.

The alarm may have stirred me, but I was already awake. There wasn't much sleep to be had during the night. Especially knowing that Jax Parker was right down the hall. I used half the night to wonder if he really is scary and fucked up and the other half telling myself that he's so hot that it doesn't matter. What is it about tattoos that makes me so incredibly stupid? Any other night, I would have been thinking about Kane Porter. Or I would have been completely hung up on some fictional guy from a romance novel.

"Ugh!" Courtney's hand slaps at the alarm clock a few times before making the correct contact needed to stop it from blaring.

Now I understand why you shouldn't have sleepovers on school nights. Seeing Courtney sit up and rub at her eyes, she's just as exhausted as I am. This studying and homework crap makes absolutely no sense. Stay up late to finish a project, end up tired as shit in class. We have an hour before we need to be at school and somehow, I know we will be arriving late, per my usual.

Like a zombie, Courtney slides herself out of the bed, still groaning as if the alarm was still chiming. Half of her curls are flat from being pressed to her pillow. Yesterday's eyeliner is now crusted in the corners of the eyes she can barely open. With the dried drool on the corner of her mouth, it really completes the look.

Courtney looks down to me groggily and rubs at her tired eyes. "I need Cocoa Puffs."

Well, that's a mood.

Without saying another word, she opens the door of her room and disappears to what I can only assume would be the kitchen to fulfill her need. Not wanting to be caught in the tiny pajama situation I was in last night, I reclose the door to dress quickly before joining her. When we stopped at my house yesterday for the poster board, I'd made sure to grab a change of clothes for today, and a toothbrush. I'd chosen yesterday's jeans with a Nirvana tee, and I even made sure to pack a few extra rubber bands that slide onto my wrist and give a good snap. I pull my hair into a high pony as I enter the kitchen.

"Apple Jacks, Cocoa Puffs, Lucky Charms, or Frosted Cheerios?" I find Courtney kneeling on her counters as she digs through a cabinet pulling out various boxes of cereal, appearing to be much more awake than she was ten minutes ago.

I drop myself into a seat at the kitchen table. "Apple Jacks."

"Already wanting Jax in you? I didn't even have to try that hard," a deep voice whispers beside my ear. I briefly see the grin on Jax's face before he moves to steal the Cheerios from his sister's hand.

"Changed my mind." I groan, rolling my eyes. "Lucky Charms."

In a move that does not shock me in the least, Jax takes the seat directly beside me. Now surrounded by the sunlight coming from every window of the kitchen and living areas, I'm seeing what I could just barely make out last night—defined abs covered in black, mouthwatering tattoos. It is taking everything in me not to completely turn in my seat to ogle him. I could take just a little peek in his direction while reaching for the milk...

Green eyes immediately latch to mine, even though I intended to aim my stare at a cluster of tattoos. It feels like an inferno erupts in my belly, sending a wave of heat similar to the one felt when meeting him yesterday afternoon. His lips curl upwards, and I'm quick to grab the milk and end the connection.

"Sleep well, Books?" he teased.

He knows damn well that I didn't. He also knows that I'm not about to tell his sister about last night after she told me to stay away from him. It's not like anything happened. It's also like nothing didn't happen either. He's making some sort of game out of me, and I won't be playing.

"Like a baby," I lie.

"Right." He tosses a few Cheerios into his mouth with a chuckle. "Me too. I had this crazy dream about a dehydrated blonde..."

I can't help but to shake my head and release a small laugh of my own. Am I supposed to find this guy, that clearly has a sense of humor, scary? With my giggle, we connect gazes again, and this time I cannot help myself. I move my glance to his tattoos. A flame that wraps around his entire arm and up his neck catches my attention first.

"Jax, do you actually want milk with your Cheerios, or are you just going to devour the contents of the box without it?" Courtney holds out a spoon in front of my face, ending my tattoo exploration.

"I actually don't want Cheerios," he answers, pushing them out of his way. "I'm craving something else."

She groans and picks up the box to put away. "Well, what do you want to eat then?"

Ignoring what I'm sure to be some sort of sibling quarrel, I take a bite of my Lucky Charms, starting with the purple balloons first.

"Books."

I choke on my bite and press my thighs together. Milk runs down my chin, and I'm quick to swipe it away. Not quick enough that he didn't see it. His chest shakes with laughter, which is ended by a direct blow to the head with a Cheerios cereal box, doled out by is own sister. When he laughs again, Courtney draws back the box, but this time Jax throws his arms up to block the assault.

"Fuck, Court!" his laughter booms throughout the kitchen. "She knows I'm just messing with her!"

"Act normal! Her name is Brooks, and she isn't interested in being one of your hump and dumps!"

I cackle. "A hump and dump?"

"Why, are you interested, Books?" he smirks. Another smack from his sister ensues, but this time, it's her palm that connects with the back of his head.

"Don't listen to him!" She threatens with her hand again. "And if you want to taunt his name right back, it's Jackson Al..."

"Alright!" he yells in defeat, ending her sentence midway. "I'm not staying for breakfast, anyways. I have to meet my new probation officer at nine, and it's an hour drive to town."

My attention snaps back to Jax. Probation officer?

"Scared yet?" He pops the last of the Cheerios he had kept in his hand into his mouth, eying me carefully for my next reaction.

I take a giant bite of my cereal with a smile that he was not expecting. I may not have been correct when thinking he's not scary, because yeah, now he's leaning that way. I'll make my mind up about that later. This just totally shifted to my favor though, and he doesn't even realize it.

"No, but you're about to be." I smugly swipe my chin with a napkin, knowing I have the upper hand in whatever little game he thought he'd play with me last night.

"Oh?" his brow lifts to question me. "And why should I be scared?"

"Say hello to my dad for me." I take another bite of my cereal and cover my mouth to prevent him from seeing the chewed contents. "Make sure you tell him you're interested in giving his pride and joy a hump and dump."

Jax shoots me a stern glare, not as playful as he was a few short moments ago. Any game he was willing to play with me last night, is likely nixed.

"You said your dad was a cop." He runs his tongue over his top teeth. "I have a probation meeting."

"You clearly have never lived in a small town, let alone a small county."

Jax and Courtney share a look that tells me I'm correct in that assumption. Wherever they came from, it was a lot bigger than Luxberg. Small towns do not operate the same way that big cities do. My dad may be this town's officer, but his office is in the city, in the County Sherriff's Office. Nothing happens here. We have one jail cell in the back of a library. It's nothing more than storage.

"Do you really think we have probation officers around here? No. Luxberg has one police officer, who happens to be the county sheriff. Officer Brooks is the lone correctional officer for the county. Therefore, you're under his jurisdiction."

"Lucky me." He sighs and meets the eyes of his sister once more.

Courtney offers no further explanation, keeping her mouth tightly shut, but I can tell there is some sort of sibling conversation occurring without words. It doesn't matter, because nothing stays a secret in this town. One hour-long trip into town and into my dad's office, and the news that he's some sort of criminal will travel back before he does. That's how small towns operate. I'll hear 495 versions of what he did by the end of the week.

"We just had to come to the middle of fucking nowhere and land directly across the street from my probation officer."

"You could be a normal 23-year-old and move out of your parent's house," she counters angrily. "You did not have to come with for me!"

Totally called that age gap, but I'm pretty sure my eyes still widened when I heard it. How does he even know that I'm eighteen? I am, but there's no way he knows that. Part of me wants to skip class today. I won't find it fair at all if the old ladies of town figure out the mystery of Jackson Parker before me. I don't think that my new friend would take to me digging through her brother's life though. She made it sound like he doesn't need to be here, but she does.

"You'll be fine," I offer, trying to shut my brain off. "Although, I suggest that you do not call him Officer Books. He won't find that cute. Also, if you'd like to keep him from blowing a gasket, I would suggest you don't mention knowing me."

Jax falls quiet, something that I've already learned in our short time together is a rare occurrence. His green eyes darken. He didn't find that funny. In fact, I'm sure there's invisible smoke fuming from his ears. He looks angry.

"You haven't asked what I've done to land myself at the mercy of your dad," his tone shifts to judgmental.

"I figure this could go three ways. Since I'm assuming you aren't going to be the one to tell me, I can go home and Google the hell out of you, the people of town could do that for me, or my dad will just disclose whatever information he can."

"Wrong, Books." Jax shakes his head and leans back in his chair. "None of you will find out shit, because my records are sealed. Try again."

"Jax, drop it." Courtney sighs as she rubs her darkly circled eyes. For someone who got a lot of sleep, she looks exhausted. "Please?"

"I'm honestly not as interested as you may think," I shrug. This of course is a complete lie. I'd sort of like to know what he did. I did let him push me up against a counter in the middle of the night.

He stands from the table. "I highly doubt that."

***

When the last bell rang, I couldn't get out of the school fast enough. I was down the street and standing on my porch before some kids had even gotten to their cars in the parking lot. Digging through my bag, I look for my house keys knowing that they aren't in it. I know exactly where they are—sitting on my desk in my bedroom. I used them when Courtney and I had stopped here to get my things for our sleepover yesterday afternoon.

"Shit!" I drop my head against the glass of the door, frustrated with myself for a total me-move.

To my surprise, the inside door opens. I lift my head from the storm-door glass to see my dad standing there with his eyebrows lifted high on his head. His favorite crossword is beneath his arm with his pen tucked behind his ear, still in his uniform from a day's work. I figured I was stuck out here all night. Usually he and mom both work until at least five, and Sydney is at softball practice.

"Hi." I grin pathetically. "It's me. Your eldest daughter. Locked myself out again. My bad."

He unlocks the door with an eyeroll and pushes it open. "Let's watch the language."

"Right!" I agree. "I'll work on that."

I step into the house and around him, needing to get to my bedroom immediately. I have some serious Google searching to do. I'm up the stairs and into my room before my dad can strike up a conversation. My computer is just where I left it, tucked beneath my bed from a late-night reading session. I close out of the website to bring up a new web search.

It takes all of ten minutes before my promise of working on my use of bad words is out the damn door. I use just about every curse in my vocabulary under my breath when not one search leads me back to Jackson Parker. In fact, I can't find him at all. Not that I had much to go on, I know his first and last name, that his middle name begins with AL and that he's 23. Nothing. Not so much as a graduation announcement from five years ago. My online stalker abilities are fruitless, and it was like he knew they would be.

"I will find you, Jackson Parker," I mutter to myself as I click another search result.

"Who are you talking to?"

I whip around in my chair to see my dad standing in the doorway of my room, one brow raised higher than the other. I swiftly shut the laptop, closing my search, and hope he wasn't standing there long.

"Myself." I giggle. "It's been awhile. Gabby and I needed to catch up—make sure we are on the same page and not crazy."

"Don't talk to her. She's nuts." He smiles, taking a few steps into the room.

Dad sits on the edge of my bed, connecting both of his hands in his lap. Then, he makes the face. It's one my siblings and I have come to know well over the years. It means we are about to have a serious discussion, and the time for joking has ended. It's usually some type of lecture—birds and the bees, not driving drunk, the usual parenting speeches. The last one I received is why you don't go to parties in the woods and get so drunk that you barely remember your own name. That five-minute car ride home felt like the longest ride of my life and was followed by the lengthiest talk he'd ever given, lasting days.

"Sooo..." I shift awkwardly. "You're home early."

His lips purse. That's not a good sign. The Dan Brooks look just became more intense. I have a pretty good idea what this talk is going to be about. It involves a certain tattooed criminal that lives across the road. For someone I just met less than twenty-four hours ago, Jax Parker has really become a pain in my ass.

Are you ready for it? Taylor Swift's voice chimes in my head.

"Mom said you spent the night with the new neighbors..."

Called it.

"That is correct." I nod, confirming my whereabouts. "The boy covered in tattoos and I attempted to make you beautiful grandbabies," I watch his jaw instantly drop, "but we didn't actually have sex—so, there's that."

I think dad might be having a stroke. For once, he's speechless. Eyes bulging, mouth attempting to find words, speechless. I'm not sure he found this as funny as I did. Usually, he keeps up with my sense of humor. Bad timing.

"Jesus, Dad," I mutter. "I'm kidding. He mentioned he had his first probation meeting with you today."

There's a loud exhale. With closed eyes, he circles his temples with his fingertips in what can only be assumed is an attempt to get what I just said out of his head. Sex life jokes with my dad, a no-go. Got it. "Gabby, I don't think you should be staying over there. If your friend would like to spend the night here, that's acceptable. I'd prefer you don't talk to Jackson again."

Wow. I thought maybe I'd have a quick talk about what he had done, but I've never been told to actually stay away from someone before. Around here, trouble with the law is usually driving under the influence, noise ordinance grievances, dogs not registered with the town office, maybe some illegal fireworks.

I shift uncomfortably in my seat. "What did he do, exactly?"

He presses his lips together, keeping his focus on me but unwilling to offer up the explanation that I've been attempting to locate via Google. Whatever Jax did, it makes my dad nervous, because he rubs his hand over his mouth in hesitation.

"His records are sealed, and that prevents me from saying anything further on the subject. Just," he sighs. "Promise me you'll stay away from him."

"Was it really bad?" I continue to pry. One hint could improve my search. Obviously, his sealed arrest records are out of the question.

His head nods yes. "Good intentions were taken too far. I don't know him and don't know his mentality for learning from mistakes, but he doesn't seem to want to learn from them. I really don't want you near him. What he did—it's enough that it would keep me up at night knowing you were over there."

"Okay," I agree, not questioning him further. I trust his judgement. "No grandkids. Promise."

"Thank you." He lets out another heavy breath. He stands from the bed and places his hand on the top of my head, shaking it just enough to mess up my ponytail. "It's my job to worry about my kids first, Gabs. You aged me about five years with your comment."

I watch my dad's back until he has completely left the room. My eyes fall to my closed laptop, knowing my online search is over.

Jackson Parker is officially off limits.

And now, I'm more curious than ever.