Those Heartless Boys

by E. M. Moore

  We lock gazes. He and his sparkling blues that catch just under the brim of his hat. The way he’s looking at me makes goosebumps dance over my skin. He blinks, almost like he’s ensnared in my trap as much as I’m ensnared in his. His hand moves up over my knee and onto my thigh. He squeezes, and heat floods my core. Goddamn there’s just something about Wyatt Longhorn on his knees in front of me with that cowboy hat on. I’m damn sure I’ve had a fantasy like this before.

  “You need to realize something, Dakota,” Wyatt says. “Everyone deserves nice things, but people like you deserve them most of all.” He moves his palm up, his hands coarse against my skin. “So, if I want to buy you something, I will. You didn’t see the look on your face when you tried these new boots on, but I did. And that’s a moment worth having again and again.”

  My breath hitches as we stay entranced by one another’s gazes. It isn’t until the rickety sound of wheels hits us that Wyatt stands, his face morphing back to hard lines with the brim of his hat acting like a privacy fence. “Here’s your cart,” the employee says.

  “Much obliged,” Wyatt says, dipping his hat at him, and the worker seems a little taken aback. I am too, actually. He turns back to me. “Now, Tits,” he says with a wink. “Put the other boot on and take a walk up and down here. You need to see how they feel when you’re walking, not just sitting. You know how much walking we’re going to be doing up there, and we need to protect those precious feet of yours.”

  I do as he says, slipping the other boot on and lacing them up before walking around. Unfortunately, Wyatt’s right. They pinch my feet a little when I walk. “I need a bigger size,” I grumble as I sit back down on the bench, bending over to untie the boots.

  Wyatt looks up. He opens his mouth to tell the worker to get me the next size, but instead, he’s on him in a flash. He pushes him against the rack of shoes and gets in his face. The display shakes, and some of the shoes tumble over. Once again, his hat is hiding most of his features from me, but the hard line of his jaw is unmistakable. “You looking at her rack?”

  “N-no,” the guy squeaks out, clearly scared out of his mind.

  My stomach drops. “Wyatt,” I whisper-yell as people pass by. They hurry down the aisle, but Wyatt doesn’t give a fuck. He’s not going to apologize like Stone did.

  The brim of Wyatt’s hat hits the guy in the forehead. “Just because I call her Tits doesn’t mean you get free looks, you understand me.”

  The guy swallows. “Yes, of course.”

  Wyatt steps back and shoves him toward a door that leads to the back. “Now get her a size eight in those shoes.”

  The guy hurries away, and I glare at Wyatt. “What was that about?” Embarrassment creeps up my cheeks. “You can’t just treat people that way.”

  “I can and I will,” Wyatt says, stepping up to me. “Those tits are off limits to others, and the way he was salivating over them...” A disgusted tremor rolls through him. He balls his fists at his sides and moves closer. He bends over, whispering right into my ear, making shivers run down my arms. He hovers there, and I close my eyes because I’m sure he notices the effect he has on me. “Just FYI, you can tell by the way he didn’t fight back that he’d be a terrible lay. Remember that. Boys with bite will give you everything you need and everything you think you didn’t but do. I’m sure Lucas is close to showing you, and he’s a sleeper. Trust me.”

  By the time he steps away, my knees are shaking. I already know Lucas is a sleeper. That he’s exactly what I want. I haven’t been able to forget what happened in class even though there are more pressing concerns happening around me. However, my blood boils when Wyatt is near too. He acts like an ass and then licks my wounds afterward until I just want to spread my legs to see what he can do down there when he’s like this everywhere else. I don’t doubt he’s everything and more in the bedroom.

  I’ve read about guys like him. I just thought they were all fictional.

  I go to stand, but he bites down on my earlobe. A spark of momentary pain hits. He sucks it away until I have to sit down again, my knees too weak to hold me upright. I nearly miss the bench, and Wyatt chuckles as he makes sure I land on the solid steel.

  Thankfully, a new worker comes out of the back with my size eights. Wyatt smirks as he takes the box from him and helps me slip them on. These are much better. I end up grabbing that pair and another of a different kind while Wyatt throws two bags of hiking socks in the cart along with some athletic socks. We stop at the sneakers next, and I bite my lip over all the different colors and styles. I always just wore what my father brought me home from the second-hand store. I never got to pick out anything myself, so standing here is like being a kid in a candy store. Speaking of, I’ve never been the kid in the candy store either, but I can imagine it so that’s all that matters.

  I’m deciding between two pairs when Wyatt puts them both in the cart. I start to argue with him, but he just walks away, and I have to run to catch up with his long strides. We head toward the clothing section next. At least this I can help with. I know my sizes in clothes based on my father’s shopping experience. I remember the growth spurt I went through in middle school. He had to buy me new hand-me-downs every three months and wasn’t happy.

  Wyatt shows me some women’s hiking pants, and I smile. I’ve never had pants specifically for hiking. Even though I know my size, he makes me try them on. He waits outside the fitting rooms as I change out of my old jean shorts with the rips in the hem and try the hiking pants on. While I’m pulling the new material over my hips, I find I’m actually having a good time shopping with Wyatt.

  On the other hand, of course I am. How could I not be? I’m about to get a bunch of brand new stuff. This good mood must be a shopper’s high which will probably dissipate as soon as we leave.

  I check the pants out in the mirror and decide they fit well enough. Before I can get changed back into my shorts, Wyatt says, “You better be planning on showing me those pants, Tits.”

  I cock my head. “I’m a grown woman. I don’t need to show you.”

  Instead of coming back with something sarcastic or even worse, more demands, he says, “Please?”

  My shoulders slump. Any other argument and I could’ve ignored it, but not this one. I begrudgingly open the door and step out. He leans on the cart we have and then twirls his finger in a circle, indicating for me to turn around. By the time I’m facing him again, he shakes his head. “They’re a hair too big. Here.” He holds up the same pants but in a different size.

  “These are fine, Wyatt.”

  “Actually, he’s right.” I turn to find Stone and Lucas walking toward us. “Those are too big. When you buy something new, they’ll relax over time. The first few times you wear them, they’ll be fine, but then they’ll be slipping past your ass while we’re trying to hike up the Superstitions, and we can’t have that. Can we, Wilder?”

  I take the pants from Wyatt and slip back into the fitting room. Before I can come out with them on for their inspection again, more tops and pants are thrown over the top of the fitting room door. “Try these on, Wilder.”

  I groan, but I take them anyway. There’s nothing wrong with my clothes. In fact, I’d have more clothes if Stone had grabbed everything from my dorm, but he didn’t.

  My mind gives me all those excuses, but the truth is, when I try the first shirt on, I just stare at my reflection in the mirror inside that tiny dressing room for ages. My hair is wild like normal, but my eyes seem brighter. Standing there in new clothes is like wearing different shields of armor, a luxury I’ve never had before.

  Maybe I let everyone pick on me at school because what they said was true. I was wearing someone else’s clothes. We were poor. My dad was kind of out there, and I’m sure I had my moments where I seemed out there, too. I didn’t have experiences like everyone else.

  “Dakota?” Wyatt calls through the door.

  “Yeah,” I say, and for a moment, I forget to put my solid exterior back in place b
ecause my voice cracks.

  I groan again and wipe at my eyes, but movement at my feet makes me step away. Wyatt, sans cowboy hat comes squirming in underneath my fitting room door. He stands to his full height in front of me while I fight back tears. Goddammit. I think I actually do like shopping with Wyatt Longhorn.

  A small smile flickers across his face. “I’d cry too if I saw the real me for the first time.”

  His words drop anchor into the pit of my stomach. The real me. Without someone else’s clothes that already lived through their lifetime. Without someone else’s shoes that have already walked someone else’s miles. Me. Just me.

  I don’t realize the tears have actually tracked over my cheeks until Wyatt pulls me to him. He presses my head against his shirt, and I just know I’m leaving splotchy wet marks over his t-shirt. His breaths flutter the hair at the top of my head, and I close my eyes, oddly comfortable in his arms.

  He must feel it too because after a moment, he loosens his hold, and it’s then that he’s really hugging me, arms falling before pulling me closer.

  We stay that way for too long.

  26

  I come back out a few minutes after making Wyatt leave the room so I can change back into my regular clothes. I’ve put myself together now, but when I glance over at the cart, it’s full of clothes. I frown at it, but Stone of all people gives me a threatening look that makes me keep my mouth shut. At first, I don’t think they’re all for me but when we look for other items we need, I notice the sizes they’re pulling off the racks and realize they’ve literally stocked up on brand new clothes for me. Not just hiking and treasure hunting clothes either. Normal clothes.

  I hate to admit Wyatt was right though. The clothes I’m wearing feel cheap. They’re not quite my size. They’re hanging off me, and there are dull parts or stains I’ve never been able to get out despite the fact that I do my own laundry and am very diligent about making sure every item of clothing I have is clean. If I couldn’t have new, at least I could be tidy.

  When they check out, I feel like their doll. After Wyatt and Stone fight over who’s going to pay for the sneakers, the cashier ends up ringing everything up on one bill, and even though I have a minor heart attack at the price, the guys don’t even balk.

  We head out of the parking lot with a trunk full of new shit. Nervous butterflies flutter in my stomach as Stone picks the perfect restaurant to go to, and the day keeps filling with new firsts. I’ve never been to a restaurant before. It’s kind of like going to the school cafeteria but better. The waitress is super nice, which probably has everything to do with the fact that she’s serving three hot guys and well, me, but that doesn’t count. She even has the audacity to ask if I’m their sister. The guys laugh, and Wyatt points out I actually am Stone’s stepsister.

  I cringe. I think very un-stepsister like things about him a lot. Other times, I hate him so much I can totally see how we could be stepsiblings.

  I accidentally on purpose read a romance book about stepsiblings before. Woo-ee. It was so raunchy. My blood was boiling by the end. It’s the idea that the whole relationship is on the border of being wrong that makes it so damn sexy. When Stone turned out to be my stepbrother, I put the brakes on that fantasy because he’s Stone Jacobs, and despite how good looking he is, being an asshole brings the hot points down.

  Honestly, I wish that was the case. Sometimes I wonder if it makes him that much hotter.

  When we’re back home, the guys help bring my bags to my room, including a small one that holds my new phone that I have no idea how to use. They drop my things and leave, Lucas the only one lingering for a little while until he senses I want to be alone. When he leaves me to myself, I dump the new purchases out on the bed and lie down in the pile, a huge smile on my face. I thought that I would be embarrassed that Stone paid for these clothes, but somehow, I’m not. I don’t want to think about it too much in case my brain decides to change its mind, so instead, I spend the next hour trying on all the clothes. However, they did it, the guys knew my perfect sizes, and I’m sitting on an awesome new wardrobe.

  I keep on a pair of shorts and a tank top and head out of my room. I wander, first checking Lucas’s room and finding it empty. When I walk toward the other part of the house, I find Stone outside, sitting on the half-moon bed with a plastic container at his side. He brings out a handful of paperwork and sifts through it, his brows pulling down. He must be looking at my dad’s stuff.

  The sun is going down when I slip through the glass doors, my bare feet hitting the stone walkway. The heat from the sun still lingers in the warm stone, but now that the sun is disappearing behind the mountains, it’s bearable to hang out outside. I head toward Stone, and he glances up as I approach. His gaze travels down my new clothes, but he doesn’t remark on them. “Is that my dad’s?” I ask, pointing to the wad of crumpled up papers in his hand.

  He nods. “You were right. There’s so much.”

  I gaze at all the papers he’s holding in front of him. He’s sitting upright on the half-moon bed, his legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles. He moves the paperwork that’s strewn around him, and I take the opportunity to sit on the edge to look it over with him.

  I’ve been through all this paperwork at least once. Some of the stuff I haven’t seen in years, though, and some of this stuff isn’t nearly as relevant as we wished it would be.

  “How did he even find anything in all this?” Stone asks, sighing. “They brought over ten plastic containers. This is just the first one.”

  I sense his frustration, and it reminds me of listening to my dad over the years. He always felt like he had all the pieces to find the exact location of the treasure, but he just hadn’t put them together in the right places yet. I smile. “My dad used to say that searching for treasure was seventy-five percent research, twenty-five percent actually hiking the Superstitions.”

  Stone crinkles his nose. His family doesn’t agree with that sentiment because they’ve gone all over the Superstitions with their technology. Mapping everything. Searching. Everyone knows what they do because it’s broadcasted on the news and podcasts. My father just loved to hear about the new thing they were trying so he could laugh at it, and I have to bite my tongue before I do the same thing.

  He sighs. “I just don’t know how we’re going to find it.”

  I turn my gaze toward Stone. It’s the first time I’ve heard him sound anything less than uber confident. It’s disconcerting, actually. I reach over, placing my hand on his. “We’ll find it,” I tell him, speaking to the boy who looks lost and scared over what’s going to happen to his family. I know about those same feelings where family is concerned. I’m sure we’ll find the treasure because we need to. I keep holding out hope that the note I was given is true. The guys are less convinced, but I’m not going to let go of that. Just like Stone won’t let go of finding his mother.

  Stone stares at my hand on him, and my cheeks heat. I slip it off him, not knowing why the hell I even did that, but he stops me. He drops the papers in his hand and covers my hand with his, holding me there. Our gazes connect, transferring a pulse of electricity between us. It’s like a homing beacon calling to me.

  He sits back, relaxing into a reclining position as he eyes me. Without thinking, I move forward, crawling up the crescent bed close to him. It’s like I’m caught in his orbit again. When he moves, I do. His gaze trails down my body, hitting all the places where this outfit hugs me instead of swallows me. His stomach rises with a breath, his shirt riding up to show off that peak of taut abs he’s sporting underneath. Maybe it’s the thought of that sexy stepbrother romance I’d just been thinking about, but I’m suddenly so taken by him. Enough that I have to look away. “Thank you for the clothes,” I say.

  His jaw locks. “I was brought up to take care of people I—” he cuts off. “They suit you.”

  I cock my head at him, wondering what he was going to say. The thought lingers between us still, making me bolder. I like thin
king I can get through his defenses. I like thinking that even though Stone is an asshole, I can help him not to be, too. Maybe I’m just pushing it, seeing how far I can take him. It’s like playing with the devil and people do that every day just for fun.

  “What are you doing?” Stone asks as I swing my legs over his hips, straddling him. Instead of forcing me off, he clutches my hips with a bruising grip. His eyes show that he’s grappling with a decision. He simultaneously wants to throw me off and bring me close. I know it because I feel the same way too.

  I shrug. It comes out coyly, but I only did it because I couldn’t think of anything to say. I don’t know why I’m doing this. He calls to my body, and for once, I’m letting it act on its own volition.

  He moves his hands up my arms, grazing my bare skin. A muscle jumps underneath his touch, like every part of my body is ready to get closer to him.

  “Can I ask you a question?” Stone asks, fixing his gaze on me. Like usual, he doesn’t wait for me to say yes. “What was it like growing up the way you did?”

  I close my eyes and swallow. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

  “I’ll reward you,” he says, shifting on the cushion.

  I peek at him. “What kind of reward?”

  He lifts his hips, his hard cock brushing between my thighs. “You’ll see.”

  I gasp. It’s the moment in the classroom with Lucas all over again. I must be sick because I want to see where this goes. I couldn’t get off Stone if I wanted to. I’m too intrigued.

  “How come your dad never took you out of Clary?”

  His right hand moves upward, and I can barely breathe. It’s wrong, right? But I can see the track he’s making, and I just know he’s about to touch my breast, and I want it. I want it so badly. I hold my breath. “He said Clary had everything I needed.”

  His hand closes around my waiting skin, and I fall forward into his grip, holding back a moan.