No Apologies (Bomar Boys Book 2)

by Jess Bryant

  “Push away the people that care about you! You don’t have to. We’re here. I’m here! I care about you! I…” She clenched her jaw as if she’d just stopped herself from saying something and when she spoke again her tone had softened, “Why do you try so hard to make me think you’re one of the bad guys?”

  “I am one of the bad guys, Sky.”

  “No, you’re not but you sure as hell act like it with me.”

  “I’m not acting, Skylar. This is me so take a good long look. Beaten and bruised, fighting for reasons you’ll never understand, reasons I can’t explain to you. This is it. I’m a Bomar. I was born bad, baby.”

  “Don’t call me that.” She snapped.

  He blinked at the venom in her voice, “Call you what?”

  “Baby. I’m not your baby. You’ve never called me that before and you’re not about to start it now so just don’t.”

  Because he’d called her angel last night. He remembered. She’d called him out for it then and from the flash of pain on her face, it hurt her to remember that he’d been affectionate last night when all he seemed capable of being now was this bastard. Instead of commenting on any of that, he latched on to the one part of it that was sure to drive her away.

  “You’re right. You’re not my baby. You’re Treys.”

  She took a deep breath, as if she had to calm herself before she sighed, “The thing about Trey is that yes, he’s my boyfriend, at least for a few more hours, but that doesn’t change how I feel about you.” Skylar met his gaze as she took another step towards him, “I don’t think it changes how you feel about me either. We’ve both been using him as an excuse not to threaten our friendship with what we really want but we aren’t friends, Colt. Let’s just admit it. Say what we both know is true, please. We’re more than friends.”

  He gaped at her, trying to figure out what was happening. She couldn’t be calling him out. Not here, not now. Not when she’d just admitted that she still belonged to another man. She still had a boyfriend and she didn’t have the right to put him on the spot as long as that was the case.

  “We’re just friends, Skylar.”

  “No.” She shook her head, “We’re not.”

  She moved slowly, gave him enough time to stop her if he wanted, but he was too shocked by the bold stand she was taking to move away when she reached for him. She put her small hands on either side of his face, holding him softly, gently, but that electric current that was always between them flared at the moment of impact. Warmth suffused him and he could see the same reaction darken her eyes, knew if he didn’t do something, soon to stop this that he wouldn’t be able to.

  If she kept touching him, he was going to touch her back. And if he touched her, he was going to kiss her. And if he kissed her, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to push her away again.

  “We’ve never been just friends and I’m tired of doing this with you, Colt.”

  Luckily, or unluckily, he wasn’t sure because his brain was too busy short-circuiting to decide what to do next, Skylar made the decision for them. She sighed heavily and dropped her hands away. She took one step back and then another and another.

  A cold chill seeped in beneath the barriers he’d been building between them and he fought a shiver. She stepped back from him again and again, putting more and more space between them. She was leaving, just like he’d wanted her to, but he wasn’t ready to let her go. Damn it, he might never be ready.

  Amid all of that it took him a moment to catch her words and that chill he’d felt turned bitter, “What? What does that mean?”

  “It means… I don’t want to keep playing this fucked up game with you, Colt. I’m not a yo-yo. You can’t keep reeling me in closer and then shoving me away. It’s not fair. I need you to talk to me. We talk about everything else. Why won’t you just talk to me about us?”

  A surge of disbelief made him scoff, “You want to talk about games? Really? There is no us! You have a boyfriend, Skylar. You invited me into your bed last night knowing full well you belong to someone else so don’t talk to me about fair.”

  “Maybe it wasn’t fair to ask you to hold me but you didn’t hesitate, did you?”

  “It was a mistake.”

  “Is that really what you think?” Her eyes flashed pain and confusion in equal measure, “Is that why you went and stepped into that cage? Because you made a mistake? Or because, God forbid, you might have actually felt something when you were holding me and it scared you?”

  She knew him too damn well and he wanted to hate her for calling him out. Damn it, she didn’t get to talk to him about fair. He had plenty of reasons for pushing her away. The least of which was something only she could change. She had a boyfriend. It didn’t matter what he felt for her as long as that was the case. Even if he woke up tomorrow and decided he was ready, she wasn’t.

  He clenched his jaw and forced a casual sneer he wasn’t feeling, “You think awfully highly of yourself, Skylar. Not every decision I make revolves around you. You’re not that important.”

  The fire went out of her eyes and he knew then that he’d done what he needed to win. It didn’t feel like a victory though. It felt too hollow for that. This fight was too much like the one from last night. Pointless, because nobody was going to get what they wanted in the end.

  “You know, I never thought you and Cash were all that much alike until right this minute. You’re doing a damn good impression of him actually. Shutting me out, pushing me away, it’s the same bullshit he pulled with Jemma, remember?” She tilted her head and he knew she saw far more than he wanted her to in that moment, “Nothing to say to that? No. I don’t know why I thought you might talk to me. I should just go.”

  There was no other option than to shrug, feign indifference, and let her walk away, “Maybe you should.”

  She stared at him for a long moment that felt like an eternity. He could see everything she was feeling right there on her face. She was so good that she’d never had to learn how to hide her emotions. He wished she had, that she could. He didn’t want to have to see that lost look of despair on her face as she realized that he wasn’t going to stop her.

  He’d told himself when he walked out of her apartment last night that he had to put some space back between them. Nothing had changed since then. Hell, if anything, this shitty day had only confirmed it.

  He’d let her distract him from his fight and now he had a battle with Lincoln to deal with. He was even further away from paying off his debt and freeing himself of his familial responsibilities. He was even further away from the goals he’d set, the ones he’d told himself he had to meet before he could even consider trying for something with a woman like Skylar.

  Last night, he’d screwed up and this was the only way he could think of to fix it.

  Her bottom lip trembled slightly, “I’ll see you around, Colt.”

  “See ya, Skylar.”

  It wasn’t a goodbye and for that much, he was grateful. She hadn’t completely given up on him even though she should have. This was the not too close portion of his awful, terrible plan to keep her at arm’s length, the worry that pushing her away would mean losing her for good.

  She wiped at her cheek as she turned and walked away from him and he locked his knees to keep from going after her. Maybe he had made her cry before today. He didn’t doubt that it was possible. She wore her feelings on her sleeve and he’d been a bastard to her too many times to count. But he’d never had to see it for himself and all he wanted was to rush to her, pull her into his arms and apologize.

  Only, he never apologized, ever, for anything, so he wouldn’t even know where to begin.

  Chapter Six

  “Stupid goddamned men.”

  Skylar threw another shoe back into her closet when she couldn’t find its mate. Her room was a mess. She’d been throwing things for an entire twenty-four hours and she couldn’t seem to stop. Just like she couldn’t seem to put her fight with Colt out of her mind and move on the way
she should have.

  She’d been mad at him before. Oh, she’d been mad at him plenty of times throughout their friendship. But it was more than that this time. This time, she wasn’t just mad. She was also hurt and confused and so damn frustrated. She couldn’t stop obsessing over every single word he’d said, every twitch of his lips and flash of emotion in his eyes.

  There was something between them. They both knew it. But he refused to admit it, refused to do a thing about it. And when she’d all but called him out about it, he’d used Trey as a deterrent.

  Trey. Her boyfriend. The cute, kind, good guy that she was dating. The same guy that was best friends with her brother and adored by her parents. The same guy that was, even at that very moment, fishing with her family and had called to apologize that he wouldn’t be back in time to pick her up for dinner tonight. Trey, who she hadn’t had a chance to break up with yet.

  Skylar threw another shoe and cursed the men in her life again. She’d had this all planned out. She’d already told Trey that they needed to talk. She’d thought he would come over before dinner with her family tonight and they’d be able to do it nice and civil but no, of course it couldn’t be that easy.

  Instead, Trey had spent the day with her family members, bonding over beers most likely. She’d have to drive herself, sit through dinner and pretend everything was okay. She didn’t know when she’d get a chance to talk to him alone and have the important conversation that she needed to have now.

  Soon, she had to talk to him soon. She’d already put it off too long. The moment she’d realized that her heart wasn’t in it, she should have cut him loose. Her heart had never been involved in her relationship with Trey. How could it be when it already belonged to another man? A frustrating, difficult, bastard of a man had stolen her heart and despite his attempts to push her away, she didn’t want it back.

  God, she was such a mess. Involved with one man and in love with another. Wanting something she couldn’t have. Obsessed with someone that had told her time and time again that they were nothing but friends.

  But it was the things he didn’t say that kept her coming back when he shoved her away with both hands. The way he looked at her sometimes, as if he were amazed she was even standing in front of him. The way he’d touched her when she was sick, as if she were important to him. When she’d held his beautiful bruised face in her hands yesterday for just a second there she’d seen heat flash in his eyes and felt that flare of need respond inside herself.

  She hadn’t made that up, hadn’t dreamed it. There was something between them no matter what he said. If he was going to push her away until she got rid of the barriers between them, then she could get rid of the first one, her boyfriend.

  Skylar blew out a rough breath when she finally came up with the shoes she’d been looking for. As much as she loved her stilettos, wearing them out to the family land was a recipe for disaster. Between the gravel drive and the grass, she’d twisted her ankle more than once. Besides, her father and brother loved nothing more than making fun of her fancy footwear so she stowed the heels for another day and slipped on a pair of sandals.

  A last glance at the mirror confirmed all of her tattoos were covered as well. She hated hiding them but like the footwear it was simply easier to avoid the conversation. Her mother’s thin-lipped looks of disapproval were one thing but her father had voiced his condemnation loud and clear for years. She wasn’t going to win an argument with her parents about the beautiful artwork that covered her body and they would never understand what it meant to her so she’d simply stopped fighting.

  The yellow cardigan she wore covered the shoulder piece well. The flowered maxi dress she’d paired it with fell to the ground and hid the smaller ankle tattoo as well. She still looked like her, just softer, more like the girl her parents wanted her to be than the girl she actually was.

  With that depressing thought dragging her mood even further down, she grabbed her purse and headed for the door. It was probably a good thing she was driving herself because she was running late as per usual. The shoe fiasco was what she would blame but in reality she’d been slow to get dressed because she didn’t really want to go to dinner.

  She wasn’t looking forward to her parents interrogating her about her recent illness. She wasn’t looking forward to watching Owen and Trey trade inside jokes. She wasn’t looking forward to holding Trey’s hand and kissing him as if nothing was wrong.

  Not when everything in her life felt wrong all of a sudden. Ever since she woke up yesterday, she’d had the feeling she wasn’t where she was supposed to be. Like she wasn’t who she was supposed to be and hiding her tattoos only scratched at that uncomfortable itch and made it worse.

  She was in such a rush that she almost missed it when she jerked the door open. If she’d only flipped the door latch instead of stopping to turn the deadbolt behind her, she probably would have. She was in the middle of inserting her key to lock up behind her when she saw it.

  An envelope was taped to her door. Strange, but that wasn’t what caught her attention. It was her name scrawled across it in that messy, almost indecipherable script. She’d joked about his inability to write legibly a dozen times or more, asked how it was possible his writing could be so bad when his drawings were always so precise and intricate.

  Colt. It was Colt’s writing. He’d left her a note.

  Skylar smiled as she snatched it off the door, her keys all but forgotten. Her hands shook slightly as she carefully ripped it open. There was one sheet of paper inside the envelope, folded in half and when she flipped it over her breath caught in her chest.

  There were only a couple of scrawled words on the page. If she’d been expecting some big explanation for why it was he’d behaved the way he did yesterday, she would have been disappointed. Colt was the more talkative of the twins, that was for sure, but this letter wasn’t important because of the number of words but simply for the few.

  I’m sorry.

  Her bottom lip trembled and she had to bite it to hold back a whimper. Sorry. He’d said he was sorry. He’d apologized. The man that never apologized for anything had apologized to her. And if that wasn’t enough to ruin her heart forever, he’d topped it off with a gift.

  Just beneath his scrawled words, there was a drawing he’d done for her. It was the tattoo that she had mentioned she wanted to get a while back. They’d been discussing ideas over lunch and she’d commented that she thought a lace garter for her upper thigh would be sexy. She remembered it clearly because Colt had sobered instantly, said her boyfriend would love something like that and then changed the subject. Now, here it was, the sexy tattoo that only someone she was intimate with would probably ever see and Colt had drawn it for her.

  What did that mean? When had he drawn it? Why had he chosen now to give it to her? Was it supposed to tell her that he wanted to be the one to see her new tattoo? Or that she should accept that he didn’t care, that he was fine with another man seeing this tattoo on her body?

  Her eyes traced over the sketch, trying to take in all of the tiny details he had included. It was elaborate in design and she knew it must have taken hours to draw. The delicate lines were made to look like lace. The bow looked more like chains and gave it a harder edge. Small roses were even worked into the design to match her other tattoos. It was perfect.

  The sound of heavy footsteps drew her gaze up and she swallowed another whimper. Colt. He’d come out of his apartment on the other end of the building. He stopped and their eyes met across the distance. He hadn’t expected her to be standing out here, she could see that much by the way his eyes widened with surprise. It was the other thing she saw there that kept her from moving towards him.

  He looked almost… scared.

  It was a look she’d never seen on his handsome face before. He was always confident, always cocky. Colt was a fighter. He didn’t do fear and she hated seeing it there. Hated that she might be the thing that had put it there.

  Was he afra
id she was going to fight with him again? That she’d push him to admit something he clearly wasn’t ready to admit? Or was he scared that she’d finally given up on him? That he’d finally pushed her past the point of no return?

  She wasn’t sure which thought broke her heart more. That he refused to admit what was so obvious to her or that he might think she would ever give up on him. She wouldn’t. Couldn’t. They were both fighters and when he pushed, she couldn’t help but push back. It had been that way since the moment she befriended the sexy bastard.

  For every step they took forward, he pushed her two back but it was moments like this, when he opened up to her, that she knew it was all worth it. He’d apologized to her for God’s sake! That had to mean something. He cared enough about her to do something he’d sworn he would never do, apologize.

  “Hey.” He finally spoke and his voice was husky, sending chills down her spine.

  “Hey.”

  He slowly took a step towards her and she fought the urge to cover the space between them. He was still black and blue, a phrase that she’d never given much thought until she became friends with Colt Bomar. His eyes were so vivid, the bright, clear blue of a summer sky, that the bruises beneath his eyes only looked darker. God help her but she’d always thought he might be the only man alive that managed to look even sexier bruised.

  His sandy hair was spiked haphazardly, as though he’d been running his hands through it. He was due for another haircut but she didn’t dare remind him of it right now. Besides, she liked it like this with the sides shaved short and the top longer. He’d let her do whatever she wanted with his hair since she started cutting it, a level of trust he’d given her because she trusted him with her skin. He’d even let her put a flash of electric blue on the ends a few months ago but that had washed out now and it was all him again, just the way she liked it.

  His hair, the tattoos that covered both of his arms and most of his chest, it was all meant to differentiate him from his twin. She knew that. According to their DNA, he and Cash were identical and there was no denying that they did resemble.