Page 3 of Knuckles (Dragon Riders MC 4)
It wasn’t until I found her baby blue doe eyes staring back at me that my suspicions were confirmed.
“Simone?” I asked.
She grinned. “Justin Oberre. It’s taken me a while to track you down.”
And as she walked up to me, her graceful hips swaying softly with every step, I lost myself in those bright blue eyes. I lost myself in the loving familiarity of her voice. I lost myself in the scent of her perfume as her heels clicked in my direction.
I hadn’t seen my foster sister in years.
So, what the hell was she doing tracking me down?2SimoneI had my cab driver drop me off down the block so I could walk up to his house. But the closer I got to it, the more I wondered if it was abandoned. The place was pretty shabby on the outside. The white vinyl siding needed to be pressure-washed in a bad way. Some of the shingles on the rooftop had been torn away, possibly by a storm. The concrete driveway was cracked to all hell, with weeds growing up and taking over. Not to mention, the front lawn was covered in clovers.
The telltale sign of weed intrusion.
I saw him when he came out of his house and I stopped. That leather jacket pulled tautly over his broad shoulders. His dark-wash jeans clinging to those long legs he’d always had. He was so grown up, stacked with muscles he lacked greatly as a child. And when he waved to that little girl and her mother from his porch, it melted my heart a bit.
Justin always did have a heart of gold stuffed down in that black soul of his.
I drew in a deep breath and steeled myself, though. Even though I was panicking on the inside, I had to keep up appearances. I couldn’t simply rush up to Justin and start blabbering on about my problems. I mean we hadn’t seen one another since we both went off to college.
Well, I went off to college.
After our foster parents kicked us out when we were eighteen because they couldn't collect checks any longer, I applied to every scholarship I could. I scraped money by and ended up at a community college a couple of hours away, studying medical transcription, of all things. I enjoyed the idea of working from home and never having to abide by traditional work hours. I enjoyed the idea of having a home office and being able to take extra-long lunch breaks if I so chose.
Life didn’t always pan out the way we wanted, though.
And now, I needed Justin’s help.
So, with a grin on my face, I swayed my hips and rolled my shoulders back. Trying to portray a type of confidence I hadn’t had for years.
“Justin Oberre. It’s taken me a while to track you down.”
When his eyes met mine, my heart stilled. Damn it, those eyes of his had always gotten to me. Brooding, with a soft inner part that always weakened my knees. My heels felt a bit too high in that moment. My heart slammed a little too hard against my chest. It had been years since I’d looked into the eyes of my foster brother, and I didn’t want the moment to end.
I had missed him ever since that fight he had with our foster parents.
“I kept all of those postcards, you know,” I said.
But still, all he did was stare at me.
“You know, the ones you sent me whenever you were on the road?”
And yet again, all he did was stare.
“Aren’t you gonna say something?” I asked.
He let the backpack on his back slide all the way down to the ground. “Simone.”
I smiled. “You’ve already said that, Hoss.”
His eye twitched. “Don’t call me that.”
“So, I see you aren’t on speaking terms with our parents, either.”
His eyes raked down my body. “How the hell did you find me?”
His question caught me off-guard, because it implied that he didn’t want to be found. Was he in trouble, too? I found myself unable to answer his question, but mostly because I couldn't believe how much Justin had changed. Sure, that look in his eye was the same. But he really had filled out well. Arms, chiseled, which I could tell even beneath his leather jacket. His thighs, strong and sturdy, which I could see even behind his jeans. His jawline was more cut than I’d ever seen it, and his cheekbones threatened to cut glass.
His hair was the same, though. That disheveled black hair that always looked a bit too wind-blown for our foster mother’s tastes.
That boy could still stop me in my tracks.
Justin cleared his throat. “How did you find me, Simone?”
His hardened voice pulled me from my trance. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not excited to see me?”
He took a step toward me. “I just want to know where you got my address.”
