Finding North

Welcome to Sugartown
(Sugartown Series #1)

Enjoy Your Stay
(Sugartown Series #2)

Greetings from Sugartown
(Sugartown Series #3)

Now Leaving Sugartown
(Sugartown Series #4)

KICK
(Savage Saints MC #1)

TANK
(Savage Saints MC #2)

REVELRY
(Taint #1)

Harley and Rose

Toward the Sound of Chaos

CLOSER
(Taint #2)

HURT
(Taint #3)

JETT
(Savage Saints MC #3)

GRIM
(Savage Saints MC #4)

KILLER
(Savage Saints MC #5)

Red Maine’s blue-collared bad boy, North Underwood, has a dirty little secret—Will Tanner.

Friends since kindergarten, North had been the one to jump first, and his fall into Will’s bed ten years ago had been no exception. Will and North had been inseparable, but things change, people grow apart, and even a blazing flame can dwindle to a dying ember over time.

The more things change the more they stay the same.

After a run in with a bottle of Bundy rum, Will and North find themselves in a compromising and all too familiar position.

Blurred lines, bad decisions, and one wrong foot after another lead these two down a spiral of sarcasm, secrets, and sex, but when North’s hetero status is called into question he can’t figure up from down. And despite Will telling himself he wouldn’t fall again, he’s head over heels and wandering without a compass.

Love is love.

Love is truth.

Love … shouldn’t be this damn hard to figure out.

“People will stare. Make it worth their while.”

–
Harry Winston

For Steve, Michael and the Sydney Boys,

because we all deserve the right to say I do.

For Troye Sivan, without your beautiful music

this book would never have happened.

“Y
ou comin’?” North says, looking back at me from the edge of the cliff. Sweat glistens on his naked torso and his blond hair is lit up like a halo by the sun. I squeeze my eyes closed, burning the image into the back of my lids. I stand as far from the edge as the rail at my back will allow. Cold ocean spray hits my face even from this high up, and even with my eyes closed I feel woozy as the sun beats down on my back and shoulders.

North’s feet thud on the sunburnt grass towards me. His hand cradles mine. Springing my eyes open wide, I stare down as he pries my fingers from their tightly fisted position at my side. My best friend threads our hands together and his gaze meets mine, and with the madness of a hundred devils written all over his face in the form of his crooked grin, white teeth, and mischievous cool blue eyes, his message is clear without ever saying a thing:
Don’t you dare let go
.

I don’t wanna let go. I don’t wanna be chicken shit. The other kids watch us from the water below, and even though all I want to do is run in the other direction, when North jumps, I follow.

I always have.

“Ready?” he asks.

“No.” My heart squeezes and skips a beat.

North runs, pulling me along with him. My feet dig into the rocky edge of the bluff, and then there’s nothing but air beneath them. I’m freefalling, his hand laced with mine. His face is a mixture of panic and joy, and I know mine is the same because both emotions war within me.

I hope I always feel like this. I want to always be right where we are now, my hand in his, freefalling. Not into the water, but into one another.

But even twelve-year-old me knows that once North finds out my secret, this feeling, these butterflies torpedoing inside my gut, will all be ripped away, replaced with thorns, fear, hatred, and ugly words.