Burnout (The Holland Brothers Book 1)

Colter’s birthday falls on Saturday night. The guys got back sometime this afternoon, according to Quinn.

When I walk into The Tipsy Rose, I already know Knox is here. Aside from seeing his truck outside, Quinn texted ten minutes ago to inform me my “hang out buddy” was here. She meant it as an excited warning, also probably trying to hurry me up.

Coach Weaver cleared me to work on vault yesterday, and I’m desperate to make up for lost time. I needed a long soak in the ice bath before I could function enough to get ready for a night out.

Nerves I don’t want to acknowledge swirl in my stomach. I’m excited to see him, but it’s more than that. I’m giddy. That make-out session the other night was…there are no words. We’ve been texting on and off since then, but mostly just gymnastics stuff or flirty, silly things.

I spot the birthday boy first. He’s sitting on a stool in front of the bar. Quinn is perched on his lap. I keep my eyes down to push through the crowd. This bar and one down the street are favorites with Valley U students, but tonight it’s a mixture of us and a slightly older crowd. I see people I recognize from school, but none I know well enough to approach.

A group of guys in riding jackets eye me as I angle my body to step past them.

Quinn slides off her boyfriend’s lap to greet me when she sees me approaching.

“You made it.” She throws her arms around my neck and squeezes me while leaning side to side.

“Hi,” I say, laughing a little. “Miss me?”

“Always,” she returns without missing a beat, then pulls back and guides me with a firm grip on my hand to the bar.

“Happy birthday,” I say to Colter.

“Thanks, Avery.”

Then I see him. He’s a few seats down, lifting a glass to his lips while talking to the bartender. Knox has already seen me, and it feels like I’ve given him the upper hand somehow. His gaze burns hot, and I feel a flush as he swallows and sets his drink down without ever taking his eyes off me.

“What do you want to drink?” Quinn asks me, dragging my attention away from Knox.

“Sprite, I guess.”

Colter orders it for me and before it’s arrived, Knox has made his way over.

“Princess,” he says by way of greeting.

I roll my eyes at the nickname that is apparently not going to die. Then say his name in the same mocking tone, “Knox.”

We smile at each other. I’d like to think his mind is back in that parking lot with his hand up my dress because that’s where mine is as I stare at the way his fingers wrap around the glass.

Someone jostles me from behind and I’m shoved toward him. Knox reaches forward and steadies me with his free hand. Those strong fingers I was just staring at wrap around my upper arm, and I narrowly avoid face-planting into his chest.

He smells good. He looks good too. Dark gray T-shirt, jeans, black boots.

Quinn squeals, breaking the spell I’m under. “A-babe, it’s our song!”

It takes a moment for the music to register, but by that time she’s already grabbed my hand and is pulling me to the other side of the bar where the band is playing a remixed version of “Good 4 U.”

It’s really her song. Don’t get me wrong, I like singing and dancing to it, but it’s Quinn who considers it her personal anthem. She loves Olivia Rodrigo.

“Don’t worry. He’s still staring,” she shouts.

“Who?”

“Knox. I knew pulling you away would drive him crazy.”

I shake my head at her. “I can’t decide if you’re a genius or evil.”

“A little bit of both.” She grins.

People have gathered in front of the stage. Most are standing around watching and drinking, not really dancing. One of the great things about Quinn is she doesn’t worry a lot about what other people think. She doesn’t need other people to dance for her to throw her hands over her head and wiggle her hips to the beat.

And I easily fall into step with her. We cut loose for the remainder of the song, singing the lyrics along with the band.

I don’t forget about Knox, but I can’t see him.

The next song is slower. We turn and stare toward the stage, swaying to the beat.

“Knox looks good,” Quinn says, still a little out of breath.

I hum my agreement.

“What’s going on with you two? Are you planning on hooking up on the regular or was it a one-time thing?”

“I don’t know. I forgot to ask him when he was making me orgasm in the empty parking lot.”

She fights to hold in a laugh. I smile right back at her. Did I immediately tell her every detail when I got home the other night? Of course, I did. I needed to tell someone so I could relive it.

Colter comes up behind Quinn and wraps his arms around her waist. He drops a kiss on her cheek. “Hey, babe. I need my darts partner.”

She looks at me for permission.

“Go. Have fun. I’m going to dance some more,” I tell her with a wave of my hand.

“Come watch.” She leans back into her boyfriend without moving.

“Yeah, Quinn does better with an audience.” Colter drops another kiss onto her cheek.

She nods her agreement. “I do love when people are watching me beat up on unsuspecting men who assume it’s my first time playing.”

Yeah, that sounds like her. I follow them into a back area where there are billiards, pool, and some arcade games. This room is a little more closed off from the rest of the bar, which drowns out some of the noise from the band.

I park myself on an empty stool against the wall next to the dart boards. Quinn and Colter are playing with two of his riding buddies, Oak and Shane. I glance around for Knox but he must still be at the bar.

While I’m cheering on Quinn and giving her the audience she craves, another one of Colter’s friends comes over to me.

“Hey.” He drops his head to catch my gaze. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“No thanks.” I never did grab my Sprite from the bar, but I don’t want to give this guy the wrong idea by letting him buy me another drink.

“I’m Mitch,” he says.

“Avery.”

He tips his head toward Colter. “How do you know the birthday boy?”

I point toward my best friend as she raises her hands overhead in victory. I don’t follow darts that closely, but I guess that was a good shot. “Quinn is my roommate.”

“Ah.” He moves closer and rests one side up against the wall. He’s a tall guy, broad, mid-twenties, I think. He has a short beard that makes it hard to accurately guess his age. At youngest, twenty-four. At oldest maybe early thirties. He’s good-looking. Striking eyes and chin-length hair that’s tucked behind his ears. Objectively, I should be attracted to him, but right now I have a singularly focused addiction in the form of Knox Holland.

Mitch is about to say something else when my addiction walks into the back area. One side of his mouth pulls into a tiny smile as he approaches. I hate the way I want to squirm in my seat from the butterflies swooping low in my stomach.

Mitch stands tall and offers him a hand. “Holland. Good to see you.”

“You too,” Knox says.

Mitch is oblivious to Knox’s intent in coming over. He thinks he’s there for him, but I know better. Even if he isn’t looking at me, I can feel the pull between us.

“How’ve you been?” Mitch asks. “I was sorry to hear about Thorne.”

A flash of emotion crosses Knox’s face, but he smooths it out so fast I doubt Mitch notices. “Thanks. I’m good.”

“You always did land on your feet.” Mitch looks back to me, angling his body to include me in their conversation. “I was just chatting with…”

Am I surprised he’s already forgotten my name? Yes, yes, I am. My face flushes hot as Mitch’s eyes grow wide.

Knox’s smile grows bigger and mocking as he watches his friend flounder to remember my name.

“Amanda, right?” Knox takes a step closer. “I think we’ve met.”

“Right. Amanda!” Mitch grins sheepishly.

I wasn’t exactly feeling him, but ouch.

“My friends call me Mandy,” I say to Knox, making my voice sugary sweet. “Have we met? I don’t seem to remember.”

“Oh, no?” His voice is low and skims over my skin like gravel. “I could have sworn we had run into each other once or twice. I can’t put my fingers on it at the moment.”

My face has to be red, but I smirk right back at him. I’m not backing down. “Must not have been very memorable.”

Mitch’s gaze is ping-ponging between us. I stand, legs a little shaky from bantering with Knox.

“Excuse me. I need to talk with my roommate.” I make a beeline for an excited Quinn. She and Colter have won their game. She throws her arms around me and I congratulate her. Then she convinces me to play with her. I happily oblige so I can avoid Mitch and him calling me Amanda.

Colter grabs Knox, who is still standing nearby, and the four of us start the game. I’m not very good at getting the dart to go where I aim, but I’m confident Quinn will carry us, or at least keep us from being creamed.

“Mandy, huh?” Knox drawls.

“Only to my friends.”

He leans in closer and drops his voice. “What about guys you let feel you up occasionally?”

My pulse ticks faster. “You can call me Amanda.”

“Sure thing, princess.” He laughs.

We don’t talk a lot during the game, which we win (thank you, Quinn), but as soon as it’s over, my best friend and her boyfriend head out to the dance floor.

“You look bored,” Knox observes when we’re alone. “I have a few ideas how to help with that.”

“I’m not bored. I just don’t really know anyone here except Quinn and Colter.”

“And me.”

“And you.”

That cocky smirk stays on his face. Someone calls out to him, and he briefly glances away, nods to whoever spoke, and then refocuses.

“You don’t need to hang around to keep me company. Quinn and Colter will be back soon.”

“Is that your prissy way of telling me to fuck off?”

“What? No. I⁠—”

His laughter cuts off my reply. “Come on, princess. You can slum it with me until your friend returns.”

On the farthest wall, several arcade games are set up. There’s a football-throwing game, an old school Donkey Kong game, and two driving games. One is a car and the other is a motorcycle.

I’m not surprised in the least when he walks straight to the motorcycle game.

“How lucky that they have a game especially for you.”

He taps the seat. “Hop on.”

I arch a brow.

He takes my hand and pulls me toward it. I don’t object any further. At least tonight I’m in jeans instead of a dress. I sit on the red motorcycle. It’s attached to a base, but still moves side to side. There’s a large screen in front of it.

I run a hand along the top of the motorcycle then wrap my fingers around the handle. “I’ve never driven a motorcycle before.”

He inserts money into the game and then presses a few buttons on the screen. I watch him more than what he selects.

“You want to watch me pretend to ride a motorcycle?” I ask.

He leans toward me and whispers, “I’d rather have you on the back of mine again, but this will do for now.”

His lips are so close I could tip my head up and our mouths would meet. I consider it, but then he moves back and presses the big green button and the game comes alive.

My competitiveness sparks and I try out the gas and brake to get a feel for it. The other riders in the game are flying past me as I get my bearings.

“The idea is to be the first person to cross the finish line,” he says, voice laced with humor.

“Shut up. I’ve got this,” I tell him, even though I definitely don’t have this. I spend more time trying to keep myself on the track than anything else.

I lose focus of Knox and concentrate solely on the game. I do not want to come in dead last and I’m frustrated that I keep running off the damn road.

I startle when I feel his body behind me. His chest is flush against my back and his arms come up on either side of me, hands draping over mine. He controls the bike and I’m able to speed up a little more. I come in twelfth place.

We both lean back in the seat when the race is over. I glance over my shoulder. “I had it. I didn’t need your help.”

“Sorry. I couldn’t help it. Watching you swerve across the track was too much for me.” He brushes my hair back over my shoulder. “Wanna get out of here for a bit?”

“I can’t.” Goosebumps rise where his fingers graze my skin.

“Why not?”

“It’s Colter’s birthday.”

“So?”

I laugh and shake my head. “Tonight is about him.”

“I already bought his drinks and told him happy birthday,” he says, but he’s grinning like he knows as well as I do that he needs to stick around.

“When is your birthday?”

“September fifth. Yours?”

“August second.” I turn around to face him, placing both legs on one side of the bike. A beat of silence hangs between us. It isn’t uncomfortable but I still hurry to disrupt it. “How was your week?”

He bites his bottom lip as he leans closer. “Had promise mid-week, but the past couple of days have been underwhelming.”

The blatant flirting is a surprise. I came tonight hoping to kiss him again, but he seems so certain that he’s already won me over that I can’t help but enjoy playing hard to get.

“Miss me?” I ask, but I don’t wait for him to reply. “Or miss my awesome workouts?”

His eyes light up with amusement as he laughs.

“I hope you enjoyed your days off. I have some ideas for next week.”

“Can’t wait.” Sarcasm coats his words, but his eyes defy his disinterest. Maybe he’s not looking forward to working out, but he’s excited about something.

“Do you want something to drink?” He scoots backward off the bike, and it leans to the right without his weight.

I stand too. “Water.”

We go to the bar where Knox gets the attention of the bartender right away even though there are other people waiting. Her expression is familiar and friendly. I stare daggers at her as she takes his order and calls him by name. He hands me my water and then accepts a bottled beer with a thanks. Leaning one hip on the bar, he angles his body toward me. “Your friend is looking for you.”

“Quinn?” I ask as I turn. Sure enough, I find her standing at the edge of the dance area, scanning the bar. As soon as she sees me, her gaze slides to Knox and then she smiles.

“I was afraid you left,” she says as soon as she makes her way over. She fans her face and eyes my water.

I hand it over without her asking.

“Excuse me for a minute,” Knox says, gripping me by the waist before he steps away.

When I glance over, he’s sliding behind the bar to help the bartender with something. He looks so comfortable there, like maybe it isn’t the first time he’s helped her out. The two of them are talking back and forth but I can’t make out either of their words.

“I would never leave without telling you,” I say to Quinn. “But I am thinking it’s going to be a short night. I barely know anyone here.”

“You know Colter and he knows everyone.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“What about you and…” She tips her head in the direction Knox disappeared.

I glance back at the bar. He’s no longer standing there, and neither is the bartender. My stomach twists with jealousy and embarrassment. Knox and I are not a thing. He asked me to leave with him and I said no. What did I really expect but for him to find someone else?

“I don’t know.”

She makes a short sound of disapproval, then perks up. “I saw one of Tristan’s neighbors at a table with some other golf guys.”

“You don’t need to play matchmaker to con me into staying,” I tell my best friend with a laugh. “I’m not leaving yet, but soon.”

“Good. I have longer to convince you to stay out all night. After the bar, people are going over to Colter and Brooklyn’s house.”

Colter and some of his friends have pulled together three tables. Quinn takes a seat next to her boyfriend and I sit beside her. The guys are telling stories and talking about bikes. I don’t understand a lot of it and find my mind wandering.

Knox appears at some point. I don’t see him take a seat, but the next time I search for him, he’s seated at the far end. And when I let myself glance at him again, a pretty girl with jet black hair and stunning colorful tattoos is sitting in his lap. He’s leaned back, but she has her arms around his neck, and I don’t need to hear the conversation to know she’s hitting on him. Or vice versa. I’d be impressed that he’s already found two girls to replace me in less than an hour if it didn’t also make me so jealous. I force myself to look away when she threads her fingers through his hair.

I stay longer than I intend, but when Colter says they’re going to head over to his place, I’m ready to go home.

“Are you sure?” Quinn asks, giving me wide, hopeful eyes. I know she can tell I’m upset, but I can’t bring myself to say it. Knox doesn’t owe me anything. So, we hooked up once. So what?

“Positive. Go have fun with your man. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Okay.” She hugs me, squeezing tightly.

The group disperses quickly. A lot of the guys have already left by the time I also hug Colter and wish him one last happy birthday.

At some point Knox disentangled himself from the girl that was in his lap and he hangs back clearly waiting for me. I walk over to say goodbye to him too. I don’t want to leave tonight with there being any awkward feelings between us.

“See you at Colter’s place?” he asks.

“No, I don’t think so.”

Part of me thinks he’ll try to change my mind, but then his name is called from behind the bar. It’s the guy bartender this time with his hands cupped around his mouth. When Knox glances back, the guy motions for him to come over. Then I see him squeeze the girl bartender’s shoulder like he’s reassuring her. She smiles at Knox then looks at me like she hopes I burst into flames.

I had pretty much already put it together that Knox had hooked up with her before, but the whole encounter feels icky somehow. I don’t get into catfights with girls over guys. That’s so not me. And Knox seems to have a flock of women ready to throw down for his attention.

“Looks like another one of your friends wants to hang out.” I purposely use his phrasing so he knows I’m not an idiot. With a wave, I step back. “See you on Monday.”