by Chelle Bliss
“Who does that kind of shit?”
“Oh, please. I’m sure you’ve been with plenty of chicks who didn’t kiss you goodbye.”
“I’ve never had anyone run away without at least saying thanks.”
My gaze moves from the red light to his face. He’s staring at me with a hardness in his eyes, fingers moving across his beard. “Thanks?”
The corner of his mouth tips up, showing the white of his teeth nestled behind his facial hair. “Why not?”
I throw my head back and laugh. “I think you would’ve been the one saying thanks to me, buddy.”
My words only make Pike laugh. God, he’s so annoying. “I figured I gave you all the thanks you needed with so many orgasms you could barely walk when you went for that fake-me-out coffee.”
I narrow my gaze on his handsome, smug face. “It’s not like you’re the only man on the planet who can give an orgasm. You’re not God’s gift to women, country boy. Hell, I can give myself an orgasm anytime.”
“Do you think about me?” His smile grows wider.
I twist my lips, staying silent as I turn my eyes back to the road. I’m thankful we’re two minutes from the burger shop because I need out of this truck and need distance between us. “Babe, when I’m touching myself, like really getting into it, fingers stroking away, and I’m craving to be filled…”
“Don’t say things like that unless you want to be flat on your back, begging for my cock, sweetheart.”
“You’re so full of yourself.” Fuck, he’s so right.
We’re trapped in the small cab of my truck, and he’s so close to me, I can smell the musky soap on his skin. All the memories from that week come flooding back to me like the naughtiest and most vivid dream, but I push them aside, staying in the present with the more annoying version of Pike.
“Tell me you haven’t thought about me once since you left Daytona, and I’ll leave you be, chalking it all up to a good time and nothing more.”
“I haven’t thought about you once,” I lie. “Have you thought about me?”
“Every. Damn. Day,” he answers quickly, and I immediately regret asking him that question.
If I were being truthful, which I’m not because I’m not giving him any ammo, I’ve thought about him every damn day too. How could I not? After a week like we had, the way we had it, I couldn’t think about anyone else but him.
He ruined me. I never thought I’d say those words, and I can barely admit them to myself sometimes. But he did. He ruined me completely.
Mallory had asked me before I met Pike if Erik was any good in bed. I said he was okay or maybe I said he was good, but now I know better. Pike did things to me that made my toes curl and my legs shake like I was having a seizure.
“We’re here.” I open the door and hop down from the truck’s cab, leaving Pike behind as soon as I shut off the engine.
I move quickly, pulling open the door to the burger shop, trying to put as much space as possible between Pike and me. But no matter how quickly I move, he isn’t far behind.
“We’re not done,” Pike says, almost plastered against my back in the impossibly busy restaurant.
I turn, glancing up and over my shoulder at him. “We are.”
He leans forward, putting his face so close to mine, I can feel his warm breath tickle my skin. “I’m calling a truce for now, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you in my bed again, lips on mine.”
I suck in a long, deep breath, feeling a little dizzy, remembering how his lips felt like velvet even with that beard. “It’s never going to happen.” Quickly, I twist my head, staring up at the menu and silently cursing myself because I very much wouldn’t mind being in his bed with his lips on mine again. “Asshole,” I mutter softly.
“Welcome to Burger, Burger, Burger,” the guy with the dopiest outfit ever says on the other side of the counter. The name is cheesy, the uniforms are even cheesier, but the burgers they make are the best in the county. “What can I get you?” he asks with a grin so large, I know it’s fake as fuck because ain’t no one that happy to be working in this joint.
“I’ll take a Double Swiss and Mushroom, a large onion ring, and a medium diet lemonade.”
“Diet?” Pike says in my ear. I elbow him because he’s close, and I don’t feel like getting into it with him in front of everyone.
“What do you want to eat, Pike?” I ask, not turning around, but instead giving the same fake-ass smile back to Jim—or at least, that’s what his name tag says.
“Besides you?” Pike whispers in my ear, which earns him a second elbow to the gut. “I’ll get what she’s having.” His voice is strained, the two good shots I got in clearly having an impact.
“For here or to go?” Jim, the cashier, asks with his smile still firmly planted on his pimply face.
“To go.”
“Here,” Pike says over me, and Jim nods. “We also do need a few other things to go.” Pike’s fingers graze my ass, and I jump but stop myself from smacking him when I see the yellow sheet of paper in his hands. He rattles off the order for everyone at the shop before handing Jim a wad of cash.
“You could’ve just asked me for the list,” I snap.
Jesus. When did I become so bitchy?
Pike brings out the worst in me. That week in Daytona, I felt more like myself. I didn’t have to be anyone else but who I was. Although I told a few lies because I didn’t know Pike at all, I was truly me. I didn’t have to put on a good face or act like some happy party girl, ready to do anything Mallory wanted so I didn’t have to listen to her shit.
“My way was more fun.” He smirks, eyes blazing as he stares at my snarled lips.
“We’ll bring it out to you when it’s ready,” Jim says because, clearly, we’re done and stopping the flow of traffic.
I stalk toward an empty table, plop down in the chair, and stare out the window.
“We can be civil,” Pike says, sliding into the chair across from me. “I want this job, and I’m not looking to get canned before I’ve barely had a chance to start. Your dad won’t fire you, but he’ll toss my ass out in a fucking heartbeat. I’m not trying to piss you off.”
“That’s news to me, Pike, and by the way, I didn’t get the job because I’m related. I’ve been working my ass off at the shop for years, earning that damn chair.”
“Your line work is amazing,” he says, complimenting me on something that isn’t sexual for the first time. “Especially with the short time you’ve been tattooing. It’s impressive, actually.”
“Thanks. My dad taught me well.”
“You’re lucky,” he says, leaning back in his chair and kicking one leg out so it’s practically touching mine. “My father didn’t teach me shit except how to be an asshole.”
“Ah, it’s genetic, then,” I tease, reaching over and pulling a handful of napkins out of the container just so I have something else to do besides stare at him.
“Ha. Ha. Very funny. I’m not an asshole.” He pauses. I risk a glance at him and quickly realize I shouldn’t have. The teasing, happy-go-lucky guy from a few moments ago is gone, and in his place is a man filled with sorrow and maybe…regret. “Well, not one like my father, at least. We’re nothing alike. Thank fuck for small miracles.”
“I’m sorry.” I can’t imagine growing up with a horrible father.
Joseph Gallo may be overbearing, but he is so damn loving that the amazing outweighs the bad. Sure, there were times I wanted to scream at him about his ridiculous rules, but I knew why he was being so over the top. He loves me. He also thought he knew better than me, which he probably did, although I’ll never admit it.
I won the lottery the day I was born. I knew that much. I have a father who adores me and a mother who is the sweetest human being on the planet. I have an entire tribe of people who are mine, looking out for me, loving me no matter what shit I pull…and there’s been a lot.
Pike shrugs one shoulder and then runs his fingers through his impossibly m
essy, yet somehow perfect, dirty-blond hair. “It is what it is. I put as much distance between him and me as possible.”
“But what about your mom?” I ask, unable to imagine not being able to go home again.
“She’s no better than him. Just a different type of asshole, but still an asshole.”
“That’s harsh.”
“If you knew them, you’d understand why I’m not being harsh enough.”
I stare at Pike, losing myself in his soulful eyes, wondering what made me the lucky one to be born into a great family, when there are others who got a shit deal the day they were born.
“Two burgers, two onion rings, and two drinks,” a girl says at the side of our table, wearing the same hideous outfit as Jim and looking no less ridiculous.
“That’s us.” I reach for the tray because she’s staring at Pike with wide eyes like a deer caught in headlights. She’s not a deer and Pike’s not a car, but she’s no less mesmerized by him.
Yeah, girl, I know.
I take the tray from her hands, placing it on the table in front of us, but she doesn’t move. She barely blinks, ignoring the fact that I’m sitting right here, like she’s stuck to the floor, frozen in place.
“Can I get you anything else?” she asks him in an almost robotic voice.
“I think we’re good,” Pike says and looks at me, pleading with me with his eyes like I’m going to be able to chase this girl away. “You need anything else, darlin’?”
“I got everything I need,” I reply, grabbing the burger from the paper basket, trying to ignore the weird girl who can’t seem to do anything other than stare at Pike.
“Well,” she says softly, blinking her eyelashes so quickly I’d think she has something stuck under her eyelid. “If you need anything, just ask for me.” She smiles and points at her name tag. “Angie.”
“Thanks, Angie,” Pike says with a big smile, tipping his head to her. “I’ll let you know if we need anything else. My girl and I are hungry.”
Her top lip curls as Pike looks over at me, breaking the happy trance she was in and reminding her that he isn’t alone. “Enjoy,” she says flatly before stalking away from our table, thankfully leaving us in peace.
“Is it hard being you?” I tease him.
“Hard because people are nice?” he asks, grabbing his burger and holding it in front of his lush, soft lips.
“Hard because women seem to throw themselves at you.”
“Sometimes it’s great, while other times, it’s a pain in the ass.” He takes a big bite, chewing slowly, staring at me across the table as I do the same.
We sit like that, chewing and not speaking, but his eyes say everything that needs to be said. I could lose myself in his eyes. The deep blue-green like the Gulf of Mexico before a storm.
“Like the night I met you, that was one of the great times.”
I’m mid-swallow, and the burger almost gets lodged in my throat, but I fight to get it down. “And when it’s not so great?” I ask, wanting to talk about anything except us.
“Fuck,” Pike mutters, burger in hand, cocky smile playing on his lips. “Who am I kidding? A face like this has its perks with very little downside.”
I grab an onion ring and playfully throw it at his face, but Pike catches it before it can connect. “You’re being an asshole again.”
“Darlin’, I’m always an asshole, but that’s why you like me,” he says with a straight face.
“Keep dreaming, buddy,” I snarl and take another bite of my burger, chewing on my food and his words.
Do I like Pike?
I liked him enough to sleep with him…repeatedly.
I was attracted to him. That much was true.
I liked Daytona Pike way more than I like Inked Pike. But Daytona Pike also had an expiration date, whereas Inked Pike seems to be ready to settle in and stick around, putting down roots in my small town.
I can’t chase him away. That would require me being open and honest with my father about what happened in Daytona and what went down between Pike and me.
Shit, my father didn’t even know I went to Daytona, and the one thing he hates most is lying. I did my fair share of that in college, though. If they knew half the shit I’d pulled… Well, it’s not like he could ground me. I don’t live under his roof anymore and can make my own rules. But that doesn’t mean my ass wouldn’t get chewed out for the danger I’d put myself in.
I can’t even imagine what he’d say about me sleeping with a stranger, let alone going to his hotel room where I could’ve been raped or murdered. I’m sure my father would immediately go to the worst-case scenario and all the ways I could’ve fucked up my life by sleeping with a stranger.
I didn’t get an STD or end up with a lifelong reminder, waking me in the middle of the night to be fed. What I did get was the best damn sex of my life—and now a constant reminder sitting in the chair across from me.
“Finish up. We have to get back. I have a client in thirty minutes,” Pike says as he glances at his phone.
I take two more bites, trying to keep my eyes on the table instead of on his muscular, ink-covered arms, flexing with each movement. When I lift my gaze to his face, he’s watching me and knows exactly what I’m staring at. I’m totally busted.
“I’m done.” I toss the burger back into the paper basket before shoving an onion ring in my mouth. “I’m ready when you are,” I say while chewing, hoping to pull off being as unsexy as possible.
I know I need to put space between us. The spark, the chemistry, the pull I felt toward him in Daytona is still there. That scares the shit out of me too. I’d never felt that invisible force pushing me toward someone when I was with Erik or Keith, but it’s so strong with Pike, I’m not sure I can escape it.
“You’re still hot,” he says like he sees through my plan. “Still give me wood, darlin’, even with that mouthful of onion rings.”
I’m out of my seat, tray in one hand and the to-go bag in the other before Pike can say another word. But I’m not alone for long. I don’t even make it to the door before I can hear his heavy footsteps and feel the warmth of his body nearby.
“Fuck my life,” I whisper into the glass door before pushing it open and stepping outside into the inferno that’s a Florida summer day.
“Next time, we take my bike,” he says, rounding the truck and opening my door before I can do it myself.
I stare up at him. “There won’t be a next time.” I stop myself from reaching out and running my fingertips along the coarse hair on his face.
Pike smiles, tipping his head and putting his face close to mine. “News flash, Gigi. Daytona was only the beginning.”
10
Pike
“Why couldn’t you move to Nashville?” my grandmother asks as I stalk around my apartment searching for my boots. “There are plenty of places to work around here, sweetheart.”
“Gram, it’s still too close. I needed to put distance between myself and that shit-ass town.”
“That mouth of yours, Pike. I know I didn’t teach you to speak like that.”
“Sorry, Gram.” I pull on my boots as soon as I find them next to the couch.
“Nashville is two hundred miles from your daddy. It’s not like you’d run into him.”
My grandmother was the only saving grace I had as a child. She still is. How she’s the same woman who raised my father, I’ll never understand. Where she’s sweet, he’s cruel. Where she’s soft, he’s hard. It’s like he decided to spite the world and do the opposite of anything Gram wanted for him.
“I know, Gram, I know.”
“Just promise you’ll come visit this old woman before I die,” she says, laying on the guilt like she always does.
The woman has been talking about her death since I was in middle school. At first, she used it as a means to control me. It worked like a fucking charm until I got smart enough to realize she wasn’t dying anytime soon. Then, she used it as a way to guilt me into doing shi
t like being around my parents when I wanted to be anywhere else in the world than breathing the same air as them.
“I promise I’ll come see you before fall.”
“That’s three months away, sweetheart. A woman of my age could meet her maker at any moment.”
“Why don’t you come here? I have a spare bedroom, and I can show you around where I live. Have you ever been to Florida, Gram?”
“No, and I have more humidity and heat than I can handle here. I don’t need to come to Florida so I can get more.”
I laugh as I step onto my patio with a cup of coffee, closing the screen door behind me because the bugs out here are ridiculous and bigger than most rats I’ve seen crawling around near the gutters of Nashville. “Don’t be dramatic.”
“I’m always dramatic.”
“From your lips to God’s ears.”
“Lydia is here to take me to the store. Call me tomorrow, and let me know how you’re settling in.”
“Okay, Gram. Tell Lydia hello.” I lean over the railing and rest the coffee mug on the top. “Talk soon. Don’t die on me today.”
“No one is promised time, Pike. Remember that,” she says, hanging up without saying goodbye like she always does.
She’d just turn me off. When I was younger, it bothered me that she never said goodbye. She was the only person I knew who never uttered those words. She said they were too final and not meant for casual conversation. That was the hard part of Gram, but everything else about the woman was soft and loving.
“Beautiful morning, isn’t it?”
I turn my head, coffee cup close to my lips, finding a buxom blonde in a silk robe. She’s leaning against the railing of her patio which touches mine, only separated by some iron spindles. Her hand is wrapped around a mug, but the robe is open, nearly exposing her breasts.