“Will do, sir,” I tell him with a little salute, then hit the button to slide the window closed. “Let’s go, Jens.”
She starts the car and we’re soon back on the road, me giving her directions to my house since she doesn’t remember how to get there. When she pulls the car into the garage, she shuts it off, turning to look at me. “I should text Savannah so she can pick me up.”
“You could—” Stay with me.
I can tell by the look on her face doesn’t want to stay.
“No.” She shakes her head and reaches for her purse, pulling her phone out. “I need to go, Rhett. I can’t stay here.”
With you.
She didn’t say the words, but I know what she means.
We sit in the car in silence as she taps on her phone, sending a text to her mean friend. Frustration rips through me and I climb out of the car, still shirtless, and slam the door with all my might.
Jensen follows after me, wearing only my shirt and her shoes, the buttons done up wrong so I can catch a glimpse of one of her breasts. It’s practically falling out. “What, are you seriously mad at me right now?”
“No.” I spit the word out. “I’m fucking frustrated.”
“Why?”
“We just had sex in my car and now you’re bailing on me. Again.” I am not having this fight with her in my garage with the door wide open so we can wake up my neighbors. It’s a quiet neighborhood. Nothing ever happens around here. I’m not about to put on a show.
I head for the door that leads into the house and I open it, glancing over my shoulder to see Jensen is still standing in the same place I left her. She’s clutching her purse strap in one hand, her phone in the other. Her makeup is a little smudged, her hair is a mess, and those long, slender legs are on full display. She’s naked under my shirt and she’s sexy as hell.
All I have to do is look at her, and it’s like I can’t resist her.
“You going to come inside? Or wait out here for your friend?” I ask quietly. I still sound pissed, though.
Because I am.
If she chooses to wait outside for Savannah to come and rescue her, she’s ridiculous. And I’m ridiculous for thinking we could work.
Actually, if I’m being honest with myself, I need to face facts. Jensen and I will most likely never work. She lies. She’s lied to me constantly, and she’s probably lying to me right now. Is she really texting Savannah? Or is she texting someone else? A guy? For all I know, she might have a boyfriend.
Jealousy ripples through me, and I try to contain it.
She sinks her teeth into her lower lip and shifts from foot to foot, checking her phone with a quick glance. “She hasn’t responded yet.”
Maybe she is telling the truth. I let the door shut and cross my arms, impassive. “She’s probably asleep.”
Jensen nods. Checks her phone again.
“She’s probably not going to answer you,” I tell her.
Another nod. Yet another phone check, like she can will Savannah to respond.
“You can stay in my guest room,” I start, but she shakes her head, a sarcastic laugh escaping her.
“You know that won’t happen.” When I remain quiet, she sighs. “I’ll end up in your bed, Rhett.”
“Then stay the night in my bed.”
Another sigh leaves her, and then she’s walking toward me. I open the door and she slips inside. I shut the garage and lock up, then lead her toward my bedroom.
“This means nothing,” she tells me when we’re in my bed minutes later.
“I agree,” I say, staring up at the ceiling.
We’re both naked. I can smell her. Feel her warmth reaching out to me, and I try to resist it. Resist her. We’re quiet for so long, I think she might be falling asleep, and I’m envious. I was so tired earlier, but now that’s gone. All I can do is think. Think about the girl in my bed, lying next to me. She’s bad for me. I know she is. If I continue down this road, she’s going to fuck me over. Fuck me up.
Again and again and again.
She slides closer, her naked body nestled to my side, her breasts pressing against my arm, her hand on my dick. I remain still, thinking I can trick her into believing I’m asleep.
But you can’t trick someone like Jensen. My cock stiffens as she strokes it. She kisses my chest, her damp lips making me crazy. I still don’t touch her, don’t react, and then she slips beneath the covers, slides down the mattress, her mouth right there. Sucking me deep.
This means nothing.
Those three words rattle through my brain on repeat. Jensen’s right. It means nothing. It should mean nothing.
So why does being with her feel like it has the potential to mean everything?
“It’s your sister’s birthday Wednesday. Don’t forget to text her,” Dad reminds me, like I’m a dumbass who doesn’t keep track of a calendar.
I’m at home on a Sunday by myself. Chad still isn’t back from his brother’s. Jensen left first thing this morning, Savannah showing up to drive her home before I was fully awake.
At least Jensen told me she was leaving. That’s progress.
“I know it’s her birthday,” I tell him. How can I forget Addie’s birthday, since it’s the same day my mother died?
You don’t forget those sort of things. No matter how hard you try.
“We’re having a party for her this Saturday.” Dad pauses, and I can hear someone talking to him. A woman’s voice, one I don’t recognize. Probably one of his mistresses. Can’t be a secretary since he doesn’t work on Sundays. His wife won’t let him. “You’re expected to attend.”
I bristle at his demand. I planned on going anyway, but when my father commands me to do shit, my automatic instinct is to rebel. But I won’t do that.
I love Addie too damn much to disappoint her.
“I’ll be there. You know that.” Now it’s my turn to pause, wondering if I should ask the question on the tip of my tongue.
Fuck it. I’m asking.
“Is Park going?” My older brother’s automatic reaction to our father’s demands is to rebel against them too. Only he actually goes through with it. He has the balls to defy our father on a constant basis. He just doesn’t give a fuck.
“He says he is. We’ll see.” The disappointment in Dad’s voice is obvious. They argue all the time. Funny thing is, they don’t realize they’re exactly alike. Exactly the same. That’s why they butt heads.
“I’ll text Addie and ask her what she wants for her birthday.”
“She wants a car.”
I laugh. Of course she does. They didn’t get her one last year, even though she was so hopeful. She cried that night, after everyone left her party and the two of us were alone. I held her in my arms as she bitterly complained that our stepmom hated her, and that’s why she didn’t get a car. Two weeks before that, our father bought his wife a brand-new Ferrari. Just because, he said.
Sometimes my father does really stupid things.
“Are you getting her one this year?”
“Already purchased,” he snaps. “It’ll be in the driveway the morning of her actual birthday, with a giant pink bow on top.”
“What kind of car?”
“A white Jeep Wrangler.”
Her dream car. “She’ll like that.”
“Diane’s not pleased. Says they’re not safe.”
“What the fuck ever, Dad. You could buy Addie the safest car on the planet and Diane would still find a way to bitch about it,” I say.
“Watch your mouth,” he warns me. I can tell he’s walking, moving to another room so he won’t talk about the wife in front of the other woman, I assume. “You can’t speak to me like that about your mother.”
“Jesus, Dad, really? That woman isn’t my mother.” He constantly tries to convince us otherwise, and I don’t know why he wastes his breath.
“She’s raised you since you were six.”
Five and a half, but who’s counting? Diane moved in so fast on my
dad. The dirt was still fresh on our mother’s grave and she magically appeared by his side one night, the balm to heal Dad’s wounds after losing his wife in such a tragic way.
She moved in when Addie was six months old. She immediately hired a team of nannies to “take care of the baby’s every need”. Right before Addie’s first birthday, Dad and Diane went on a tour of Europe. Diane had never been before, Dad told me and Park right before they left. He wanted to treat her right and show her the world.
They missed Addie’s first birthday. The nannies held a small party for her, and Park and I were there to watch her smash the chocolate cake with pink frosting and chocolate crumbs coating her tiny fingers. I will never forget that day. How Park and I cried for our dad, our mom, who we still had a hard time believing was dead.
I think that was the last time I ever saw my older brother cry.
“I don’t want to talk about her,” I tell Dad, and from the tone of my voice, I know he understands I mean it. Nothing good ever comes out of talking about Diane. No matter how much he tries to convince us we’re one big happy family.
We’re not.
“Will you go to dinner with us on Addie’s birthday?” he asks, deftly changing the subject.
“Who’s going?”
“Addie insists on bringing her boyfriend.” Dad hates that kid, but I like Trent. He’s good to my sister, and that’s all that matters. “Diane and I will be there, of course. And hopefully you.”
“I’d like to bring someone.” Shit. I have no idea if I can convince Jensen to go to an awkward family dinner for my little sister’s birthday, but I’d like to try.
I’m a sucker for punishment, I guess.
“Of course. Who is it? Someone we know?” He’s hoping it’s a daughter of one of his associates, or neighbor, or golf buddy.
“I met her on campus.”
“What’s her name?”
“Jensen.”
“Jensen what?”
That I don’t know. And I don’t really want to admit that fact either. “You don’t know her.”
“You’d be surprised. I know a lot of women.” He chuckles, the bastard.
“She’s too young for you.”
“They’re never too young, son. Trust me on that.” His laughter grows.
Sometimes my dad is a sexist asshole. I wonder why Diane tolerates his cheating and constant bullshit. He hasn’t been faithful to her in years.
Wait, I know why. Because he has more money than God and she likes to spend it.
“I’m bringing her,” I say, my voice determined. “Where are we going?”
Now he sounds truly annoyed. “Your sister insists on going to the Cheesecake Factory.”
It’s my turn to laugh. That is so beneath Dad and Diane it’s fucking hilarious. “When was the last time you went there?”
“When your mother was still alive. She loved that place.” His voice is wistful, and despite all the crap my father has done over the last twenty-plus years, I know without a doubt, he still misses our mother.
“Then it makes sense that Addie loves it too,” I say firmly. “Give her what she wants.”
“I am. I always do.” I start to say something and he cuts me off. “I try to, at least.”
I want to tell him to try harder, but I keep my mouth shut.
We end the call, and within minutes Chad is strolling through the front door and collapsing on the couch, a weary look on his face.
“Where have you been?” I ask.
“We went out to breakfast. Bridezilla wanted to talk wedding plans.” Chad covers his face with both hands and groans.
“With you? Why?”
He drops his hands. “I’m the best man, so she has certain expectations of what I’m supposed to do. I told her I already met those expectations by hosting the bachelor party, and she got pissed at me.”
“What else does she expect from you?”
“The list is too long to go into, bro. Pray your brother doesn’t get married to a total bitch, Rhett. Bitches suck.” Chad shakes his head, a gleam suddenly shining in his eyes. “Hey, whatever happened to that hot waitress?”
I tense up. I do not want to talk about Jensen, especially with Chad. “What do you mean?”
“You went back into the strip club looking for your phone.” Chad grins. “You sure that wasn’t some ploy to chat up our waitress?”
“No, I legitimately left my phone in the club.”
“To talk to the hottie?” Chad peers at me. “Is it true you really fucked her?”
I don’t have to answer him. It’s none of his business.
Chad’s eyes go wide when I remain silent. “You did. Holy hell, I can’t believe it! That chick is hot. But you’ve always been able to pull hos.”
“Don’t call her a ho,” I bite out. “Don’t insult her.”
“Relax, relax.” Chad shakes his head, chuckling. “So were you lying when you told me you’ve never been to the strip club before?”
“I wasn’t lying.”
“So where did you meet her?”
“On campus. Actually, no. At a bar. And then I kept seeing her on campus, and I finally convinced her to go on a couple of dates with me,” I explain.
“And you had sex with her.”
I nod.
“So is it serious?”
“No,” I immediately say. “It’s definitely not serious.”
“Is she good in bed?”
“I’m not going to answer you.”
“Which means she’s fucking unbelievable in bed. Any girl who can walk around so casually with her tits out has to be pretty open to anything.”
She’s definitely open to lots of things. Last night in the car was…interesting. And mind-blowing, no denying that. I felt like she was pushing me. And I was pushing her. It was a turn-on. She’s a turn-on.
I want to see her again.
“I’m jealous, man. Not going to lie.” Chad stands, stretches his arms above his head. “I’m gonna go take a shower and then crash out. I’m finished with this weekend. Swear to God I’m still hungover.”
The moment he walks out of the living room I’m on my phone, sending a text to Jensen.
Can you see this?
I unblocked you, she immediately answers.
I have a question for you.
What?
I want to ask you in person.
She doesn’t reply for a few minutes, making me anxious. Maybe that’s not such a good idea.
My heart sinks. Why not?
If we keep seeing each other, I’ll end up hurting you in the end.
That’s something a guy would say to get in a girl’s pants. Hell, I’ve said that before to some poor, innocent girl. Yeah, I’m not proud of some of the things I’ve done, but I’m trying to change my ways.
You can’t hurt me. I have zero expectations.
You’re a liar.
She’s right. I am a liar. The more this girl resists, the more I want her.
Let me come get you, I tell her.
Why?
I want to see you.
How about I come see you? I’ll take an Uber.
I can pick you up.
No. I’ll come over there.
My roommate is here. I don’t want Chad to see her. I don’t want to hear his big mouth.
Oh. Maybe some other time then.
He’s gonna lock himself up in his room after he takes a shower. Then you can come over.
It takes her a while to respond again. I’m pretty sure I’ve blown it. When five minutes tick by, I’m certain I’ve blown it.
But long minutes later, Jensen finally responds. Am I your dirty little secret, Rhett?
If I admit that she is, does that make me an asshole?
She sends another text. Because you’re definitely mine. ;)
All right. So we’re on the same page.
Come over, I tell her.
Okay :)
I roll over on my back, my breathing heavy, my heart rac
ing. Closing my eyes, I swallow hard, trying to calm my overstimulated body. I hear the rustle of sheets, the comforter falling onto the floor softly. Turning my head, I crack open my eyes to see Jensen lying beside me, her golden body glowing with a faint sheen of sweat, her feet moving, kicking everything off the bed.
Reaching over, I slide my hand over her smooth ass, my fingers lingering. “Hot?”
She says nothing, just shifts closer to press her ultra-warm body against mine. I kiss her, my overused dick stirring to attention despite my bone-deep exhaustion, but I break away from her swollen mouth before it turns into something else.
With Jensen, it’s guaranteed to turn into something else.
“You’re insatiable,” she murmurs against my lips, her fingers slipping down, down until they’re curled around my cock.
“So are you,” I tell her.
We’ve been fucking around for hours. I don’t even know what time it is since I haven’t check my phone since Jensen walked in the door. All I know is that it’s dark outside, and the house is quiet. It feels like there’s no one else in the world right now. Just me and Jensen, doing the most primal, basic thing a man and woman can do.
Her stomach growls. Loudly. She coughs, maybe trying to cover up the sound, who knows, and then she’s moving away, rolling over on her side so her back is to me. “I should probably go,” she tells the wall.
I grab her shoulder and gently flip her over so she’s facing me again. “I can feed you if you’re hungry.”
“I’m not hungry.” Her stomach growls again.
“Really.” My voice is flat, because—yet again—she’s lying. About the stupidest thing possible.
She sighs. “I hate it when you look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like…” She hesitates, pressing her lips together. “I don’t know, like you’re disappointed in me.”
I say nothing, since that’s exactly how I feel.
“Yeah, like that.” She crawls out of bed and is on the floor, no doubt searching for her clothes. “I don’t want you to act like you’re my dad, Rhett.”
“What the hell do you mean?” I spring to my feet, annoyed. She does this a lot. Gets defensive, purposely starts arguing with me.
Maybe this girl is too much trouble. Maybe she won’t be worth the heartache.
His Wasted Heart Page 4