.

I toss my backpack to the floor of Courtney's hot-pink bedroom and take in my surroundings, attempting to learn a little more about my new friend and neighbor. It's a bit disheveled. Everything is still in boxes from their move, but she does have band posters plastered to her walls—good ones.

She really does have awesome taste in music, I think to myself, continuing my nosy scan of her personal space.

"Sorry, haven't had time to unpack." She moves a cardboard box from her desk chair to her floor.

I begin pointing to the posters that I like the most. "Against Me!, Jimmy Eat World, Foo Fighters, Modest Mouse...such good bands. And they are all signed."

"My brother and I used to go to a lot of concerts." She smiles and pulls out her textbooks.

"Used to?"

I swivel around to view her, wondering why they would stop. I can't imagine it was because they had a bad time. I wish I had seen these concerts. The only one I've seen live is Against Me! with Felix and Kane. It took a lot of convincing to get them to allow me to tag along, but the three of us had a blast. The show was an amazing experience. They weren't as well-known back then, and we were able to get the tickets cheap. We were up against the stage the entire night. They started my love of tattooed sleeves on musicians.

"A lot has changed the last few years. He's...different," she refers to her brother with a roll of her green eyes.

Realizing she doesn't seem to want to stick to the brother subject, I grab my bag to begin our night of studying. I take my place on the edge of her bed and pull out my book, flipping it to the correct page for our assignment. I cross my legs like a pretzel to make myself more comfortable, knowing we are in for a long night. I'm foolishly pretending as if studying is something I actually do on a regular basis. My parents would never allow me to have a sleepover with Morgan on a school night, especially when grounded. One mention of the word "study" and my mom practically shoved me out the door, saying she'd talk to dad about it when he got home.

We already decided that tonight we would be making a poster on the scientific method. We stopped at my house to pick up the poster board, and Courtney had assured me she had plenty of construction paper and stickers to last us a lifetime. She was not lying. As I sit here on her bed, I watch her open a box the size of a kitchen sink filled to the brim with stickers.

"Childhood obsessions really do come in handy." She giggles, pulling out multiple packs of tiny stars. Every color of the rainbow is accounted for, and I can see as she begins sorting that we are not limited to just the shape of stars. "My mom wanted me to throw them away when we were packing. I haven't used them since I was a kid, but I just couldn't get rid of them."

I select a pack of large, multicolored, glittered circles that would make our poster look snazzy and place them beside me before digging into the box further. "These are perfect!"

"Me and you tonight, snot." Courtney's bedroom door swings open, causing me to turn to the deep, masculine voice over my left shoulder. I could self-combust from the heat wave the hits me when I do. "What are we eating?"

My lungs stop functioning at the sight of the mystery guy who has entered Courtney's room—a man with tattooed sleeves that stop at the knuckles of his fingers and travel up his neck. His hair is a light shade of brown, cut short to a military-style, with a bit of stubble forming a shadow on his face. A light gray tee clings to his abs—leaving nothing to my imagination—with tight, ripped, black jeans and... black, high-top Chuck Taylors.

My eyes become glued to his shoes, ones that match the ones I was wearing up until about ten minutes ago when we entered the Parker house. I'll be keeping my eyes right here, because I'm on the verge of melting if I see the tattoos again. He can't be that hot, right? Guys like that don't exist, especially not in Luxberg. Talking myself out of my current libido spike, I bring myself to look up again. The stranger's attention shifts to the unknown girl sitting on his sister's bed, causing goosebumps to lift from my skin in reaction. Piercing green eyes—like Courtney's but a deeper shade, appearing almost haunted—connect with mine. Courtney's voice dwindles in the background. I catch something about pizza, but I'm still caught in this weird connection that has my head dizzy and my stomach launching itself into a series of flips. As hard as I try not to, my breathing becomes erratic, making it way too obvious that it was him that impacted it.

"Dumbass! Did you hear me?" Fingers snap, causing his gaze to follow the sound. "I said there's three of us tonight. We have a biology project to do, and my new friend is sleeping over." Courtney's attention shifts to me instead of the guy at the door. "Gabby, do you like pizza?"

My face has got to match her hot pink walls by now, knowing it could give Morgan's earlier tinted cheeks a run for their money. I stupidly look to him, then back to her, nodding my head to the question. Pizza, yes. I like pizza. Where the hell did my ability to speak go? Is this how Morgan feels whenever she sees Cole? Christ, I feel like I can't function at the sight of a boy.

He's not a boy though.

Unable to even stop myself, I turn to view him again. He doesn't look like any of the guys we go to school with, or even my brother's friends. He is definitely older than us.

"And who is Gabby?" he asks, his deep voice causing a second flooding of goosebumps to erupt across my skin. His head slowly cocks to the side as he surveys me. Leaning himself against the doorway, his arms cross over his chest while he awaits an answer.

How do I telepathically tell him that my mouth is so full of drool that I cannot answer?

"She lives across the street in the yellow Victorian," Courtney thankfully answers for me. "Her dad is a cop."

His eyes snap back to her and then land back on me. Someone did not like that answer.

Pretty sure he didn't ask what my dad did for a living, but okay.

"Lucky you," he says in a dark, sarcastic tone. His green eyes narrow, now seeming to size me up because of my dad's profession.

It's easy to see that he's not a fan of my dad's career choice. Doesn't matter. I'm about five seconds away from writing Gabby Parker on my notebooks with little hearts—that is so not me. I don't even know his name yet. Again, he cocks his head and smirks at me, like he knows exactly what I'm thinking.

"This is Jackson. He's my older, annoying brother." Courtney rolls her eyes at him before turning back to the computer screen. She's already over this encounter. Do most girls act like this when introduced to her brother? It's completely understandable, if they do.

"Jax," he corrects her.

"Gabby Brooks," I reply, finally able to make words.

"Pizza, Jax. Order it."

It's her way of telling her brother to take a hike. Jax does just that before I can even look at those amazing tattooed sleeves one more time, leaving me practically a puddle that's melting into Courtney's white comforter. His missing presence makes me want to sulk—I could have stared at him all night.

"Don't even think about it," I feel her eyes burning into the side of my head. My attention shifts back to hers, heeding her warning. "Every girl wants him, and he takes advantage of it. He will play with you and destroy you when he gets bored. He's fucked up."

Well, there goes that thought of marriage. Tattooed and fucked up—that's my luck.

"What makes him 'fucked up' exactly?" I look back to the door with the hope that Jax reappears.

She sighs deeply, looking to the empty doorway that I can barely look away from. She seems upset, opening and closing her mouth to speak as if she wants to tell me something but can't. This doesn't seem like the same girl who spoke her mind and put Tyler Porter in his place today at school. She's flustered. The warmth in my cheeks dwindles away with her silence. I really don't want to start off on a bad foot with her, and she would know her brother better than anyone. He's clearly way older, and I was already dumb enough to be thinking invisible me would have a chance.

"Just don't. Stay away from him," she warns, ending the discussion. The stickers she chose earlier are picked up and ripped open with her teeth. "Trust me."

***

Why did I agree to this?

Leaning myself upwards to view the clock above me on Courtney's nightstand, I groan at the sight of it only being one in the morning. I've never been one to sleep well at someone else's house. We stayed up until almost eleven working on our project—which turned out nothing short of amazing. Courtney was able to fall right to sleep in the comfort of her own bed after a very brief discussion about Cole and Morgan's lacking love life. Giggles turned into her snoring and me wishing that I'd just gone across the street to my own bedroom at the end of the night. The floor is uncomfortable, I'm too warm and tossed all my covers off hours ago, and I am dying of thirst. I take a lot of shit for the number of empty water bottles beside my bed every morning, but this is the reason.

Knowing myself, that I will not be falling asleep anytime soon, I lift myself off of the floor and back to two feet. Courtney continues to snore beside me, completely covered by her comforter with the exception of wild blonde curls peeking from beneath it. As quietly as I possibly can, I turn the knob of her bedroom door until it clicks free from its wooden doorframe. The house is pitch black, but I remember the way to her kitchen enough that I don't stumble over my own feet. Thankfully, there's enough light from the streetlights outside coming through the glass of their front door that I'm able to see the refrigerator's water dispenser. That's one battle down. Now, which cabinet has a glass?

Starting with the cabinetry furthest to the left, I work my way around the room until I finally find one holding various sizes and shapes of glassware. I pick the first one on the bottom shelf, shut the cabinet, and turn just in time to let out a screech and jump out of my own skin when I see the outline of Jax directly behind me. My hand releases the glass to clutch my chest, but he manages to catch it before it could connect with the wooden floors below.

"Can't sleep, Books?" He grins from a kneeling position and offers the glass back to me.

"Brooks," I correct him, accepting the glass and feeling like my rapidly beating heart is ready to burst from my chest. "My name is Gabby Brooks, and you scared the shit out of me. Do you always sneak up on girls in the middle of the night?"

Jax stands, retaining his smile that I can barely make out with the lack of the light. Even like this, I can't help but to give him my undivided attention. After the pizza showed up, I saw him for a brief, few seconds when he took a few slices for himself and disappeared from Courtney's room. I practically drowned in my own drool right then. Now, he's standing here in nothing but a pair of pajama pants, showing me that those tattoos were not limited to his arms and neck. As far as looks go, this guy is seriously too good to be true.

"There's not usually anyone to scare this early in the morning." He points out, taking a small step in my direction. It takes up what little space was left between the two of us. "I'm the only night owl that lives here."

Courtney's earlier warning of her brother is now front and center in my mind, causing me to take a step backwards. My lower back connects to the countertop behind me. Personal space seems to not be a thing for him, and again, this guy is a complete stranger. Here I am, in the middle of the night, in one of Courtney's tank tops and a pair of shorts, with the guy she says is "fucked up" backing me into a corner. I really should have made her elaborate on what made him fucked up.

Jax gives a small laugh, leaning himself forward enough that I suck in my breath. Firm abs press against my front until he flips on the light above their sink. A small pool of light surrounds the two of us. There's a brief moment when he takes a step back where my eyes close, and I exhale in relief. That's until his skin brushes against mine. My skin betrays me, heating every part of me and rouging my cheeks.

Jax halts from taking the backward step he was about to make and drops his face closer to mine. "I can be scary, if you'd like," he whispers. "Surprised Courtney didn't warn you."

"She told me to stay away from you." I look up at him, finding the smallest bit of courage.

I was not expecting to see his lips form a straight line as he nods his head to agree. That sends a chill that straightens my spine. I will admit that when I first saw him standing in Courtney's doorway tonight, I would have enjoyed this encounter more. He's hot, but right now he is equally terrifying. My dad warning ten-year-old me about stranger danger, which I laughed about at the time, has me more panicked than normal. Still, there's something about the way his bright green eyes watch me that has me questioning if this is some sort of front with him.

"She also said you're fucked up. Care to explain?"

There's another laugh, and Jax finally takes another step back with it. "Fucked up and scary." He grins and rolls his eyes. "That's me."

"She also called you a player."

"And again, she would be correct." Jax leans his own back into the island of the kitchen, making himself more comfortable while giving us more distance. I can breathe now, even if his stare is refusing to let up. His arms cross over his bare chest, causing the muscle in his arms to expand. "Do you intend to befriend my little sister?"

"Uhh." I squeeze the glass in my hand, confused by the question. "I think I already did?"

His jaw tightens, eyes narrowing once more. "Then I guess you'll find out."

"Find out what?"

Letting up on his lean, Jax quickly slips the light off behind me, bringing the room back to darkness. My eyes attempt to adjust to the change. The presence of him standing right beside me again is not lost on me.

"Just how fucked up and scary I am."

Maybe that sentence was supposed to tip me over the edge and send me back to his sister's room. Maybe it was supposed to scare me enough to retort back to my own house. The way he said it though...I could swear he said it with a frown. One hidden by our light being taken away. I'm left watching his back as he makes his way towards the hallway leading to the bedrooms of their home.

"And that means what?" I call out to him before he exits the kitchen.

"That I think I'm going to make a game out of you."

"What kind of game?" I question too loud, risking waking my new friend.

"In due time." Jax laughs. "You're going to be fun, Books."