Rogue Affair Read online

  Rogue Affair

  Cedarwood Beach 3

  Rhys Everly

  Rogue Affair, Cedarwood Beach Book 3

  Copyright © 2020 by Rhys Everly

  Cover Design by Ethereal Designs

  Editing & Proofreading by Alphabitz Editing

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Trigger Warnings

  1. Nathan

  2. Hudson

  3. Nathan

  4. Hudson

  5. Nathan

  6. Hudson

  7. Nathan

  8. Hudson

  9. Nathan

  10. Hudson

  11. Nathan

  12. Hudson

  13. Nathan

  14. Hudson

  15. Hudson

  16. Nathan

  17. Hudson

  18. Nathan

  19. Hudson

  20. Hudson

  21. Nathan

  22. Hudson

  23. Nathan

  24. Nathan

  25. Hudson

  26. Nathan

  27. Hudson

  28. Nathan

  29. Hudson

  30. Nathan

  31. Hudson

  32. Nathan

  33. Hudson

  34. Nathan

  35. Hudson

  36. Nathan

  37. Hudson

  38. Nathan

  Epilogue

  A Letter from Rhys

  Also by Rhys

  Audiobooks

  About the Author

  Trigger Warnings

  Contains scenes of homophobia, transphobia, racism, and threats of animal abuse by secondary characters. None of those scenes are used in a positive light.

  This book was a real labor of love and I couldn’t have done it without the precious help of three amazing ladies.

  Ana. Always the voice of reason.

  And Lisa and Tanya with their positive attitude. Their swooning. Their feedback. Their tears (which I’ve locked in a jar, by the way).

  This book may or may not have been fueled by that jar of tears and the motivation from these awesome women.

  Thank you.

  One

  Nathan

  “O-M-G! You can have some alone time with your worst enemy. Hate sex is so hot!” Kyle said as we walked toward the campus café for a much needed iced coffee.

  “Kyle, it’s a school reunion. Not a televised version of Fuck, Marry, Kill,” I informed him. For the hundredth time.

  My best friend didn’t seem to get it. School was a nightmare for me. Not anything pleasant by a long shot.

  “Oh, that would be so much fun, though, wouldn’t it?” He cheered.

  I rolled my eyes and puffed.

  “I honestly don’t get why they’ve decided to do a school reunion now. Aren’t those supposed to happen when we’re old? Like thirty or forty, or something stupid like that?”

  Kyle shrugged, but then gasped and stopped in his tracks.

  “Maybe it’s a setup to get you and your secret admirer in the same room,” he said.

  I turned around to knock on Kyle’s head, and he rubbed the spot with a grimace.

  “Kyle, wake up. No one is setting up anything for me. I didn’t and don’t have secret admirers. No one liked me at school. And it’s not like we went to school in New York. It was in Cedarwood Beach. I know pretty much where everyone is and what everyone is doing,” I said, trying real hard not to think about Derek. Or Hudson. Especially Hudson.

  Thinking back to school was an ugly discourse, and it brought out the worst in me.

  “Jeez, chill your jams, Lady Marmalade. I was just kidding. No need to attack your X-tina,” Kyle said, wearing his silly face and making me laugh.

  I didn’t know what I’d do without him.

  Out of the entire population of Cedarwood Beach and New Harlow combined, he was the only person my age who understood me and put up with both me and my mood swings. Other than my family, of course.

  We started walking again and entered Espresso Blues, joining the line to the register.

  “So, what are you going to wear?” he asked.

  I rolled my eyes.

  “I’m not going, so… nothing.”

  “Oh come on, princess. Are you seriously gonna let whoever and whoever win? What do you think not showing up will tell them? That they were right and you are indeed a loser not worth their time. No. You need to go and show them how wrong they were to mess with you,” Kyle said.

  “I’m not going,” I repeated. “And did you just imply I’m a loser?”

  “I’ll be your plus one,” Kyle said, ignoring my question.

  “Kyle, I am not going,” I said. Again.

  “Duuuude!”

  “Duuuude back!” I cut him off. “I have no energy to see any of those people’s faces ever again. Especially that douchecake Derek who made my life a living misery.” Or Hudson, who followed Derek’s instructions like a good puppet. Or any of that asshole’s lackeys. “Can we just get chocolate brownie ice cream and watch all the Disney classics instead? I’ll probably want to feel like a princess that night.”

  “Fine. I’ve still got another couple of weeks to convince you. Thankfully,” was Kyle’s response, and then he turned around to the barista and ordered our whipped cream salted caramel lattes.

  “How’s the dating going, anyway? Found Mr. Right yet?” Kyle asked when we sat down at one of the outside tables and enjoyed as much of the sunshine as possible while it was still around.

  I cocked my head in a way that said, “has the alien invasion happened yet?” and Kyle laughed.

  “Well, maybe if you went on a date without your stupid list, you’d find someone to dust off the cobwebs down there,” he said, and I punched his arm.

  “I don’t go to dates with the list,” I said.

  “Do you or do you not have a list on your phone with tick boxes, and do you or do you not tick those boxes when and if the guy matches them?” Kyle asked.

  “I don’t do it in front of them.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Do you or do you not check the boxes when the guy goes to the restroom? Details. I forgot about them. Isn’t that one of your list items?”

  Kyle tried to snatch my phone out of my hands, but I managed to save it from his ruthless grasp at the last minute.

  “Attentive, thank you very much. I can live without a perfectionist, but they have to pay attention to my needs,” I said.

  Maybe I was crazy, or maybe I knew what I wanted in a man. I liked to call it the latter.

  Was it weird that I had a list of the attributes I wanted in a boyfriend?

  Maybe a little.

  Would that stop me from cross-checking every guy with my list?

  Probably not.

  “You. Are. A. Psycho,” Kyle shouted and sucked on his straw.

  “Am not,” I shouted back.

  “Psycho alert!” Kyle retaliated but choked on his coffee, and I ended up with his spattering in my face.

  “Lord help me. You’re dead,” I growled and attacked Kyle with the tickle claws.

  He did not like the tickle claws.

  “Stahp!” Kyle screeched, garnering the attention of those students who weren’t already staring at us. “Nathan Karagiannis. Stop this very moment.”

  I put my hands up in surrender. Being full-named was a serious matter, and I’d be a real dick if I didn’t obey.

  “See? Psycho. I can’t believe I’m friends with one.” He tutted and look
ed around us, telling everyone there was nothing to see here.

  “Do you want a repeat?” I asked him when he kept calling me a psycho. “Because I ain’t scared of ya.”

  Kyle put his fingers on my lips to shush me and then wiped some cream from my eyebrow.

  “As punishment for what you just did to me, you will go to your reunion and I will be joining you so we can shut those bullies up,” he said.

  “But—” I started to protest, but Kyle was having none of it.

  He used the tips of his fingers to squeeze my lips shut, and I ended up looking like a stupid duck in front of my classmates.

  “There we go. See? It wasn’t that hard, sweetie,” he said just as a bulky guy in a blue apron approached the table with a dish box.

  “Are those done?” he grumbled, and both Kyle and I turned to look at the guy.

  Was he being serious? The ice in our drinks hadn’t even melted yet.

  I almost had a heart attack when I looked up at him—and Kyle’s fingers were still on my lips. I pushed his hand away with whatever sense I had left while I tried to stay unfazed by the man standing in front of me.

  He was six-foot-something with thick arms, a thick neck, and a thick chest.

  In short, he was thick. Everywhere.

  With blonde hair and grey eyes that made me salivate. If only I didn’t loathe the sight of him.

  Had he always been this big? Or had he grown in size since high school?

  And damn if those veins showing on his arms didn’t make me want to lick across their length.

  Too bad I hated him and that would never happen, regardless of the fact.

  “Oh, darling, we ain’t even started yet.” Kyle batted his lashes at Hudson and picked up his coffee cup to suck on the straw very suggestively.

  He had no clue what he was doing and to whom he was doing it, and I had no idea what the fuck this douchebag was even doing here, but I’d be damned if I let Kyle become his next victim.

  I put my hand out and lowered Kyle’s drink while I stared at Hudson with all my might.

  “Why are you still here?” I asked him when he didn’t budge. “It’s obvious we’re not done yet.”

  “Nate. Why are you being ugly to this gorgeous m—”

  “Shut up, Kyle,” I said, not looking away from Hudson. “Do you need something?”

  Hudson shook his head reluctantly and backtracked toward the café, and only when he disappeared did my heart resume its normal beating.

  “What the fuck just happened?” Kyle asked.

  I let out a deep breath I didn’t know I was holding and turned to my friend.

  “I have no fucking clue, man. What I do know is that fate is playing a real ugly game,” I said.

  “Huh? Are you sure there’s no rum in your coffee?” Kyle asked and tried to take a sip off my drink. “Because momma needs some of whatever you’re on.”

  “That was… uhm… Hudson. He used to be my best friend in elementary school,” I said.

  “Wait! That is the Hudson? The dude that turned on you in high school?” Kyle gasped and looked back at the direction Hudson had fled to.

  “The one and only. My best friend who turned into a bastard and helped make my life a living hell. For no reason whatsoever.”

  “Holy Crapiola. I did not see that coming,” Kyle said and punched my arm.

  “What was that for?”

  “That was for not telling me he was such a hunk of meat.”

  I raised an eyebrow and gave him the “are you serious” look.

  “You wouldn’t be saying that if you’d gone to high school with him,” I said. “He used to be so sweet—”

  “Ahem, he still is,” Kyle interrupted. “Sweet ass.”

  “He is an ass. But he used to be so good. And then when I told him I was gay,” I said and snapped my fingers to make my point, “he turned on me just like that. Cut me out of his life, putting an end to our friendship.”

  Kyle cooed at me and got up to give me a hug.

  “Aw, honey. I was just kidding. I know he’s an asshole.”

  He was indeed.

  And yet I couldn’t get him off my mind.

  Even though I tried.

  I really did.

  Had he always looked this handsome? Or had Kyle’s spattering caused a concussion?

  Two

  Hudson

  “Hudson!” His voice boomed across the house even though there was a floor and a half separating us. “Get your stupid mutt under control or I’ll take it out back and shoot it in the head.”

  I didn’t even hear half the things he shouted in my rush to get down. I stormed down the attic stairs and barreled down to the first floor, coming face-to-face with the wrath of my dad.

  He was holding his boots in his hand, the wet on the rubber clear as day. I looked around the room for the culprit and found him cowering away behind the couch.

  “I told you mongrels are trouble. You better control that stupid dog, or I’ll make him into compost for the crops,” Dad shouted, and the urge to punch him was strong.

  Very strong.

  “Don’t you dare touch Romeo,” I shouted back. I approached the couch and got to my knees. “Hey, buddy. What did I say about peeing in the house?”

  My chocolate bulldog stared at me, his tail between his legs, tongue sagging from his mouth, his sniffles echoing across the room.

  I reached out to him and gave him the attention he craved. As soon as I rubbed between his ears, his tail shot up and wagged again.

  “Romeo! What kind of sissy name is Romeo? He needs a manly name.”

  “His name is fine, Dad. Do you want anything else? Because I’ve got work,” I shouted when I picked Romeo up, his tail slapping my hip with his enthusiasm.

  “You watch that tone with me boy. I told you to get your dog under control or he’s not allowed in the house anymore. He can sleep in the barn with the rest of the animals,” he said and threw his shoes across the room. “Look what he’s done to my boots. He pissed all over them. This is his last strike.”

  “His last strike? He’s a dog, Dad. He doesn’t understand your shouting. If anything, it scares him,” I said.

  “Another reason to get rid of him. What kind of male dog is afraid of a little shouting?”

  “The puppy kind. Give him a break. He’s only two,” I said.

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass how old he is. Make him behave, or he’s out of the house.”

  I hugged Romeo tighter to reassure him that I wasn’t going to let Dad touch him—if he could even understand the threats Dad was throwing at him—and climbed the stairs back to my room.

  I jumped in the shower and rinsed my body quickly. I didn’t want to miss the bus, so I threw on whatever I found around the room.

  A pair of jeans that still smelled okay and a rank white t-shirt I’d worn a couple days ago when I was out in the crops, which I sprayed with lots of deodorant and reminded myself to do the laundry tonight.

  Before I left the house, I walked Romeo around the house outside so he could do his business and then checked to make sure his food and water bowl were full before I locked him in my room with the window open.

  I would have left him with the other dogs, but after this morning, I wasn’t so sure Dad wouldn’t turn him into compost, so my room would have to do.

  With my backpack on my back and my shoes on but the laces undone, I left the farm and ran to the bus stop just as the New Harlow bus arrived.

  Thank God I left at the time I did; otherwise, I’d have to wait for the next bus, which wouldn’t be for another half hour, and then I’d definitely be late for work.

  And I couldn’t be late on my first week at the new job.

  I collapsed on one of the seats in the back and put my headphones on, trying to get the events of this morning out of my head. And catch my breath. And do my laces.

  God, I was such a mess. No wonder my life was a minefield. Starting with the man I had to share a house with.


  He always got me worked up for nothing. He was infuriating and always angry at everything and everyone, especially me.

  It took all my willpower not to be as angry as him twenty-four seven. ‘Cause I needed a better life. I needed to get out of that house and start my own life.

  I was twenty-fucking-one, and not only did I not have a job, but I had no future.

  I wasn’t the best person in the world and probably deserved everything that had ever happened to me, but if only I could catch a little break.

  Just a small one. I didn’t care for a million dollars or anything.

  I just needed a break so I could finally graduate and get out of this rotten town where everyone hated me.

  And because everyone in Cedarwood Beach hated me, I had to find a job in another fucking town. Because no one would give me an opportunity. Because they all thought I was like my dad. Or worse, actually.

  They all thought I was a nobody. A loser.

  A troublemaker.

  No matter what I said or what I did, my reputation preceded me.

  I kicked the seat in front of me, and the man that was occupying it turned to look at me, offering me his deepest frown.

  “Sorry,” I said.

  I shouldn’t have given in to the pressure back then. I should have held my head high, finished school, and graduated.

  Instead, I dropped out to avoid everyone. And that had cost me.

  My bad luck followed me everywhere I went. In my daily life, my friendships—or lack thereof—and my prospects.