Good Girl Complex: An Avalon Bay Novel

Before I can blink, Mackenzie tears her dress off.

As in, this chick is actually getting naked.

No, not naked, I realize when she doesn’t remove her bra and underwear. My disappointment over the strip show ending prematurely is dimmed by the fact that she looks pretty goddamn good in a bra and underwear.

But as she runs into the rising tide and is quickly swallowed up to her neck, the rational part of my brain kicks in.

“Mac!” I shout after her. “Get back here, damn it!”

She’s already swimming away.

Awesome. She’s gonna drown trying to get that mangy stray back to shore.

Grumbling curses under my breath, I strip out of my jeans and shoes and chase after Mackenzie, who has reached the rocks and is now climbing up to the dog. I swim hard against the current, as the waves try to throw me against the pier’s pylons or slam me into the rocks. Finally, I grab on to one of the boulders and haul myself out of the water.

“You’re crazy, you know that?” I growl.

The shivering dog sits anxiously by Mac, who’s attempting to comfort it. “We have to help her,” she tells me.

Shit. This filthy, pathetic thing is just a puppy, but there’s no way Mackenzie is swimming with it back to shore. I had a hard time myself fighting off the current, and I probably weigh twice as much as Mac.

“Give her to me,” I say with a sigh. When I reach for the dog, she hides behind Mac and almost falls in the water trying to back away from me. “Come on, damn it. It’s me or nothing.”

“It’s okay, little one, he’s not as scary as he looks,” Mac coos to the mutt. Meanwhile I stand there glaring at them both.

The dog continues to hesitate, so finally Mac picks her up and deposits the unhappy wet bundle into my waiting hands. Almost instantly, the frightened animal is clawing and kicking to get away. This is going to be a goddamn nightmare.

Mackenzie pets the dog’s soaked fur in a futile attempt to calm her. “You sure about this?” she asks me. “I can try—”

No chance. The waves would knock the dog right out of her grip and the damn thing would drown while I pulled Mac to shore. Not happening.

“Go,” I order. “I’m right behind you.”

With a nod, she dives and makes for the shore.

Standing on the rocks, I have a little pep talk with the pup. “I’m trying to help you, okay? Do not bite my face off. Let’s get along for the next few minutes. Deal?”

The animal whines and whimpers, which I suppose is the best I’m getting.

As gently as I can, I climb down into the water and hold the dog like a football above the waves as I swim with one arm. The whole time, the damn thing is freaking out thinking I’m trying to kill her or something. She barks and scratches. Tries a few times to wriggle free. With every move she makes, a little more flesh is gouged from my body. As soon as we reach the sand, I let the dog go and it runs straight for Mac, all but diving into her arms. You’re welcome, traitor.

“You okay?” Mac calls out.

“Yeah, fine.”

Both of us are breathing heavy after fighting the waves. It’s fully dark now, the only light coming from the boardwalk. Mackenzie isn’t much more than a hazy shape in front of me.

My temper gets the best of me, spilling over as I stalk up to her. “What the hell was that?”

She plants one hand on her bare hip. Her other hand protectively holds the dog. “Seriously?” she exclaims. “You’re mad that I wanted to save a helpless animal? She could have died!”

“You could have died! You feel that current, sweetheart? That shit could’ve sucked you right out to sea. At least once a year someone drowns down here because they’re a reckless dumbass.”

“I’m not your sweetheart,” she grumbles. “And did you really just call me a dumbass?”

“Act like a dumbass, get called a dumbass.” I angrily shake water out of my hair. Doesn’t escape me that the dog is currently doing the same. We’re both feral animals, I suppose.

Mackenzie tightens her hold on her new pet. “I will not apologize for having a heart. I can’t believe you were prepared to let this poor puppy die. Oh my God. I’m friends with a puppy killer.”

My jaw falls open.

Christ, this chick is turning into a handful. I’ve never worked this hard to win over a girl. And yet, despite being mauled half to death for her—and being accused of attempted dog murder—my anger dissolves into a wave of laughter. I double over, dripping seawater onto the sand as I laugh my ass off.

“Why are you laughing?” she demands.

“You called me a puppy killer,” I manage to croak between laughs. “You’re insane.”

After a second, she breaks out in giggles. The dog’s gaze shifts uncertainly between us as we stand there laughing like a pair of idiots, soaking wet and half naked.

“Fine,” she relents when her giggling fit finally subsides. “I may have been out of line. I know you were just worried for my safety. And thank you for swimming out there to help. I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.” I hike up the waistband of my jeans. My wet boxers are plastered to my crotch, making it hard to zip up the jeans. “Come on, let’s get our stuff and go back to my place. I need to get changed. You can dry off there and I can give you a ride home.”

She doesn’t say anything, staring at me.

“Yes,” I sigh, “bring the dog.”

The house is dark when we arrive. Neither Evan’s motorcycle nor Jeep are in the drive, and the front door’s locked when Mac and I step onto the wraparound porch. Thankfully, the place isn’t a mess inside. With our friends frequently using our house as a party pad and way station between bars, it tends to get tossed around a lot. Evan and I, for our lack of other social graces, try to keep our home clean, though. We’re not complete animals.

“You can use my shower,” I tell Mac, pointing toward my ground-floor bedroom after I turn on lights and get myself a beer from the fridge. I deserve a drink after my heroic dog-saving efforts. “I’ll find some clothes you can borrow.”

“Thanks.” She carries the dog with her, all cuddled and sleepy in her arms. I told her in the truck that if she wants to leave it here, I’ll take it to the shelter in the morning. Though I’m starting to wonder if I’ll be able to pry it away from her.

When Mac’s in my en suite bathroom, I dig out a clean T-shirt and a pair of jeans Heidi left here ages ago. Or maybe they’re Steph’s. The girls are always leaving their stuff lying around after a party or a day at the beach, and I’ve stopped trying to return them.

I leave the clothes in a neat pile on the bed, then strip out of my wet clothes and throw on a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. The steam rolling out from under the bathroom door is unbelievably tempting. I wonder how Mac would react if I stepped into the shower stall, eased up behind her, and reached both hands around to cup her tits.

A groan lodges in my throat. She’d probably saw my balls off with her fingernails, but it might be worth it, just to get to touch her.

“Hello, hello,” my brother calls from the front door.

“In here,” I answer as I head back to the kitchen.

Evan drops his keys on the splintered wood island. He grabs a beer and stands against the fridge. “What’s that smell?”

“Mackenzie and I rescued a stray puppy from the jetty.” Poor thing did kind of stink. Guess I do too now. Awesome.

“She’s here?” A wicked grin spreads across his face as he looks around.

“Shower.”

“Well, that was easy. I’m almost disappointed I didn’t get more time to enjoy it.”

“Not what you’re thinking,” I grunt out. “The dog was stuck out on the rocks and we had to get in the water to save it. Told Mackenzie she could come here to clean up, and then I’d take her home.”

“Take her home? Dude. This is your chance. Close the deal.” He shakes his head impatiently. “You helped her rescue a puppy, for chrissake. She is primed.”

“Don’t be a dick.” Something about the way he says that strikes a nerve with me. This scheme isn’t exactly ethical, but we don’t have to be sleazy about it.

“What?” Evan can’t pretend to hide his glee at how well this plan is working. “I’m just saying.”

“Well…” I take a swig of my beer. “Keep it to yourself.”

“Hey,” comes Mac’s hesitant voice.

She walks in, and the sight of her—in my shirt, dark wet hair combed back—brings all sorts of sinful thoughts to my head. She didn’t put on the jeans, so her legs are bare and tanned and endlessly long.

Fuck.

I want them wrapped around my waist.

“Evan,” she greets my brother, nodding at him as if she knows, somehow, he is up to no good. Unsurprisingly, she’s still carrying the sleeping puppy.

“Welp.” Evan gives her a parting smile as he grabs his beer and pushes off from the fridge. “I’m beat. You kids have fun.”

My brother has no appreciation for subtlety.

“Was it something I said?” she asks dryly.

“Nah. He thinks we’re gonna hook up.” When I lift my arm to run a hand through my damp hair, her eyes grow wide with alarm. My brow furrows. “What?”

“Cooper. You’re hurt.”

I look down, almost forgetting that her precious little pup damn near filleted me alive not an hour ago. Both my arms are covered in red scratches, and there’s a particularly nasty-looking cut on my collarbone.

“Eh. I’m fine,” I assure her. I’m no stranger to cuts and scrapes, and these ones are definitely not the worst I’ve experienced.

“No, you’re not. We need to clean those.”

With that, she marches me to the bathroom and, despite my protestations, forces my ass down on the closed lid of the toilet. The puppy is promptly deposited in my claw-foot bathtub, where she curls up and sleeps while Mackenzie rifles through my cabinets for the first aid kit.

“I can do this myself,” I tell her as she sets out a bottle of alcohol and cotton swabs.

“Are you going to be difficult?” She eyes me with a raised brow. The earnest conviction on her face is cute, in a stubborn shut up and take your medicine sort of way.

“Fine.”

“Good. Now take off your shirt.”

A grin tugs on my lips. “This was your plan all along? To get me naked?”

“Yes, Cooper. I broke into an animal shelter, stole a puppy, placed it in a perilous situation, swam out to rescue it myself—so as to not raise your suspicions that it was I, in fact, who trapped the dog on the jetty—then telepathically ordered the dog to scratch you up. All so I could see your perfect pecs.” She finishes with a snort.

“Extreme actions,” I agree. “But I get it. My pecs are perfect. They’re transcendent.”

“So’s your ego.”

I make a slow, deliberate show of removing my shirt. Despite her mocking, my bare chest elicits a response. Her breath hitches, and then she averts her gaze, pretending to focus on opening the rubbing alcohol.

I hide a smile and sit back as she begins to clean the wounds on my arm.

“Is it just the two of you here?” she asks curiously.

“Yeah. Evan and I grew up in this house. My great-grandparents built it after they got married. Grandparents lived here after them and so on.”

“It’s beautiful.”

It was. Now it’s falling apart. Roof needs replacing. Foundation is cracking from beach erosion. The siding has seen one too many storms, and the floors are worn and warped. Nothing I couldn’t fix if only I had the time and money, but isn’t that always the story? Whole damn town full of if onlys. And just like that, I remember why I’m sitting here letting some clone’s girlfriend run her hands all over my bare chest.

“There,” she says, touching my arm. “All better.”

“Thanks.” My voice sounds a bit gravelly.

“No problem.” Hers sounds slightly hoarse.

I find myself momentarily caught in her bright green eyes. Taunted by the flashes of her almost-naked body as the hem of my shirt rises on her thighs. Her warm palm against my skin. The thrumming in her neck that tells me she’s not indifferent to me either.

I could do it. Take her by the hips, coax her into straddling me. Shove my hand through her hair and pull her mouth to mine in a blistering kiss. I’m not supposed to sleep with her unless she initiates, but if the chemistry sizzling between us is any indication, I suspect she won’t stop with a kiss. It’ll be a kiss that leads to the bed that leads to getting balls deep inside her. She’ll dump Kincaid faster than you can say game over. I win. Mission accomplished.

But where’s the fun in that?

“Now,” I say, “about your friend.”

Mackenzie blinks, as if snapping out of the same lust stupor I’d fallen into.

We draw a warm bubble bath for the puppy and put her in. She’s a completely different animal all of a sudden. The drowned rat becomes a small golden retriever, splashing around and playing with a bottle of shampoo that falls into the tub. Poor thing is all skin and bones, lost or abandoned by its mother, and she didn’t have a collar when we found her. The shelter will have to figure out if she’s chipped or not.

After we scrub the dog clean and dry her off, I set out a bowl of water in the kitchen and feed her some cut up turkey franks. Not ideal, but it’s the best we have under the circumstances. While the pup eats, I leave the door open and step out to the back deck. The temperature’s cooled off, and the ocean breeze is blowing in off the water. Out on the horizon, a tiny blip of a boat’s bow lights flickers as it travels.

“You know…” Mac comes beside me.

I’m acutely aware of her, every nerve attuned in her direction. This chick barely glances at me and I’m half hard. It’s very annoying.

“I shouldn’t be here,” she finishes.

“And why’s that?”

“I think you know why.” Her voice is soft, measured. She’s testing me as much as herself.

“You don’t seem like the kind of girl who does anything she doesn’t want to.” I turn to meet her eyes. In my limited experience, Mackenzie is stubborn. Not the type to get pushed around. I’m under no illusion that she’s here because I’m so damn clever.

“You’d be surprised,” she says ruefully.

“Tell me.”

She appraises me. Doubtful. Questioning how sincere my interest is.

I raise a brow. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“I’d like to think so,” she says, wary.

“Then talk to me. Let me get to know you.”

She continues to study me. Christ. When she stares into me like this, I feel her picking me apart, working things out. I’ve never felt so exposed in front of another person before. For some reason, it doesn’t bother me as much as it probably should.

“I thought freedom was being self-sufficient,” she finally confesses. “I’m finding out that isn’t exactly true. I know this probably sounds stupid coming from me, but I feel trapped. By expectations and promises. Trying to make everyone else happy. I wish I could be selfish for once. Do what I want, when I want, how I want.”

“So why don’t you?”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Sure it is.” Rich people are always going on about how money is such a burden. That’s only because they don’t know how to use it. They get so caught up in their bullshit, they forget they don’t actually need their dumb friends and stupid country clubs. “Forget ’em. Someone’s making you miserable? Something is holding you back? Forget ’em and move on.”

Her teeth dig into her bottom lip. “I can’t.”

“Then you don’t want it bad enough.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Of course not. What’s ever been fair? People spend their whole lives complaining about things they’re unwilling to change. At a certain point, either pluck up the courage or shut up.”

Laughter sputters out of her. “Are you telling me to shut up?”

“No, I’m telling you there are plenty of ways that life and circumstances beyond our control conspire to keep us down. The least we can do is get out of our own way.”

“What about you?” She turns on me, pointing the question back in my face. “What do you want right now that you can’t have?”

“To kiss you.”

She narrows her eyes.

I should regret saying that, but I don’t. I mean, what’s stopping me from kissing her, from telling her I want to? Gotta pull the trigger on this thing at some point, right? I’ve clearly got her on the hook. If I don’t commit to this plan now, why am I wasting my time?

So I watch her, trying to discern her reaction through the stone-cold façade of indifference. This chick is implacable. But for a split second, I glimpse the flicker of heat in her gaze as she considers it. Gaming it out. One action begetting another, a cascade effect of consequences.

She licks her lips.

I lean closer. Just a little. Tempting myself. The need to touch her is almost unbearable.

“But then I’d screw up a perfectly good friendship,” I say, because I’ve lost all control of my goddamn mouth. “So I behave myself. It’s still a choice.”

What the hell am I doing? I don’t know what spooked me, but suddenly I’m giving her an out when I’m supposed to be reeling her in.

Mac turns back toward the water, resting her arms on the railing. “I admire your honesty.”

Frustration rises inside me as I look at her profile from the corner of my eye. This woman is gorgeous, she’s wearing my shirt and nothing else, and instead of pulling her into my arms and kissing her senseless, I just friend-zoned myself.

For the first time since we hatched this plan, I’m starting to wonder if I’m in over my head.