Get to me (8th sin series, book 1)

Slam

Day after day we bond. Week after week we get even closer. Jackson and I. Ryker and I. I've created two totally different relationships, and I don't want to get out of either one. Two perfect souls in two perfect human beings. What one has, the other one rivals. What one doesn't give me, the other one does.

Nobody can tell me that I'm doing wrong, and I wouldn't care if they did.

Jackson is content; Ryker is fine. We're all spinning around in our circles of lust—or is it love--I'm not really sure.

I like when I'm with Jackson. I miss Ryker when he's away, and he makes me crazy when he's here.

I'm Ryker's biggest fan. I sit in the crowd while he's skateboarding or backstage at an event when he's in town. I worry he's going to break his neck.

When I work alongside Jackson, I put my all into everything he asks of me. I support his ambition; I push him into getting things done when he grows bored or tired. We complement each other.

I am Ryker's shoulder to vent, his sex buddy, his best friend.

"What are you making?" I ask, coming into Jackson's enormous kitchen. It's truly impressive.

"The only thing I can make," he says pointing to the empty macaroni and cheese boxes on the counter.

"Yum." I take a seat at the counter.

We still haven't slept together. We've come close a few times, but we don't want to give in to our desires until it's right.

My stomach clenches with lust as he backs away from the stove wearing nothing more than dark gray sweatpants. He's perfectly sculpted in all the right places.

"After we eat we can hit up the shelter. I have a few things I want to check on." He lifts the big spoon and gives the pasta a stir.

"Sounds good." I frown staring at my phone and Jackson notices.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." I shake my head. "Just my brother. He keeps bugging me to help with my parents' anniversary." It wasn't that I didn't want to help. We did the same thing every year, and I was bored. I couldn't imagine they weren't.

"You know," he says. "It's not often people our age can even say their parents are still together. It's kind of nice."

"Your parents are together," I point out so he can stop telling me that I am so unique because my parents haven't killed or divorced each other yet.

He shakes his head. "My father remarried when my mother died."

"I'm sorry." I sigh. "I thought with the way you two were the other day she was your mother. And she looks like you."

Jackson smirks. "No. My mother died when I was fifteen. Diane did all she could to take her place."

"That's sweet."

"That's noble. Not too many women would take on two teenage boys. But she did, and I think that's what saved me from becoming the big asshole that I otherwise might have been." He makes a face, his dark eyebrows lifting.

"I don't think you could ever be an asshole."

He takes the pot off the stove. "I think I am getting used to all of these compliments."

He finishes the macaroni and cheese and makes two bowls. I take mine. "I don't even notice anymore. Maybe it's your eyes."

He looks down, trailing his spoon across the top of his mac and cheese. "These old things." He smirks.