“No. Coop’s not like you.”
“Like me?” he asks, his brows shooting upward in surprise. “The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”
“You just fucked Sherry-Lyn on our longue room floor, right where you knew I’d find you.”
“Yeah, kinda forgetting one thing here; you and I aren’t together.”
“As if that would matter, even if we were together and you wanted it bad enough. You’d do it. And it would still cut me all to pieces just like it did tonight. Just like you knew it would. You looked right at me as you ground her arse down on your hips and fucked her harder.”
“You chose him!” He slams the bottle down on the table hard enough to make me jump. He staggers to his feet, and takes the two long strides to get to me. “You chose him over me.”
“Yeah, and you let me go. The night Snickers died. I saw it in your eyes, Jack, so don’t you dare put all this on me.” He stares down at me like I just dealt him a physical blow. “Coop’s the father of my child. Of course I chose him.”
“Bullshit, that’s not why you did it, and you and I both know it. You chose him because it means you don’t have to feel your way through this shit. You chose him because it means your fucking soul won’t be crushed when he leaves you. You chose him because you don’t love him. Not the way you love me,” he says and threads his hand into my hair and pulls me toward him, smashing his lips to mine. He tastes like booze and Sherry-Lyn’s cherry lip-gloss, and I want to gag and tear at him with my hands and nails and hurt him as badly as he’s hurt me.
I shove and slap, rake my nails down his hard chest. Jack stumbles back a half-step, his crystalline gaze spearing me with a warning. A beat passes between us, and then his huge body is engulfing mine. His mouth covers mine, his tongue slashes my lips and pushes inside. I open completely for him. I moan and lick and kiss, just as brutally as him. Jack pushes his jean-clad cock against my stomach. He slides his hand between us, skirting my swollen abdomen, and mercilessly drives it between my legs. The nightie I’m wearing offers no defence against his expert hands. He glides his fingers over me and plunges them into my wetness. Hooking them from the inside, and wiggling back and forth.
“Christ you’re tight, darlin’,” he mutters, and I feel myself clamping down on him even more. Jack slides his fingers out of me almost all the way, and then he shoves three inside me, as far as they will go. It’s punishing and painful, and it hurts in that way that pleasure sometimes can. He strokes his thumb across my clit, and I come undone. I lean my head back against the kitchen cabinet as my pussy clenches around him. My eyes never leave his as I come hard against his hand, and his name falls from my mouth. Jack wears his smug satisfaction like a crown.
“Does he fuck your sweet cunt as well as I do, Holly?” he whispers.
My whole body goes rigid. My stupidity slaps me in the face again. Of course this was just a game. Every moment with Jack can be boiled down to games, and taunts, and who is coming while coming out on top. For the first time since we met, I no longer want to play.
“You win,” I whisper, and shove him away from me.
He stumbles back, into the table, but rights himself before his drunken arse can fall over. “What the fuck, Hols?”
“You know just how to get beneath my skin, don’t you? You always know just how to fuck me over, Jack. ”
“You didn’t seem like you minded me beneath your skin a second ago.” He lifts his hand and licks my arousal clean from his fingers. “Still tastes as fucking edible as ever, Hols.”
“Holly?” Coop’s voice startles me, but I’m guessing Jack already knew he was there. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Nothing,” I say, too quickly.
Jack laughs. “Right, nothing. Just telling Hols she still tastes as sweet as ever.” He licks his lips, and smirks at me. “Just like old times, huh?”
I glare, unable to believe he just said that.
“The fuck did you just say?” Coop demands and edges towards us.
“He’s joking. Right, Jack?”
“I never joke about your perfect cunt, Hols, you oughtta know that by now.” Jack mocks. Coop flies forward in a rage, wrapping his hand around Jack’s throat. He slams Jack’s head back into the cabinet. Coop’s fist meets his face, and Jackson’s head rocks to the side. He doesn’t even try to fight back or defend himself. Coop hits him again, and this time blood flies from Jack’s mouth and his eyes roll back. He’s blind drunk, and so full of bitter sorrow that it’s pathetic. The Jackson Rowe I know has never been pathetic a day in his life. Coop pulls his fist back again, and I scream for him to stop. He drops his arm to his side and backs away.
Jack sinks down on the kitchen floor, slumped against the counter, his lip bleeding, his words slurred almost beyond comprehension. “Ouch, rock-sssstar finally learned how to punch.”
“Rock-star learned a lot of tricks these last few months. Keep your hands off my woman.”
“Your woman?” Jack laughs, “That it, Hols? You his ‘woman’?”
“Jack, for once in your life would you shut up, please?”
“You give your heart to him as well as your pussy, Hols? Or do I still own the both of them?”
“Fuck you,” I spit.
“You already did, sweetheart, you fucked me over well and truly. Any beating this tool can dish out ain’t got nothing on the one you gave me.”
Coop lunges for Jack again, but Elijah comes from out of nowhere and blocks his path. Coop’s fist collides with Elijah’s abdomen. Elijah grunts, his face turning about seven different shades of pissed off.
“Hey, hey, hey!” Elijah pushes Coop back, and then shoves him towards the door. “Back the fuck off, man. You need to cool your fucking head, and get your shit together before your woman and baby get hurt.”
Ana’s at my side, her arm wrapped around my shoulder, but I can’t draw my eyes away from the boys in front of me—and they are boys, because surely men have more sense and maturity than this? Surely.
“You sure that baby’s his, Hols?” Jack sneers from the floor. He’s blinded with alcohol and bitterness. I know that. I can see how cut up he is over this whole situation, and I know that’s why he fucked that whore in our lounge room tonight, but it doesn’t excuse this. “I mean, there’s a fifty-fifty chance.”
There’s no possibility of this kid being his, and he knows it. Apparently Coop doesn’t know that, though. I stare at him, and shake my head. Jack chuckles, and then my rage takes me over the edge. I make a leap for him, but Ana and Elijah both hold me back.
“Cut it out, Jack,” Ana scolds. She takes my face in her hands, attempting to make me see her through my fury. “Hols, you gotta calm down. Walk away, honey.”
“Yeah, honey,” Jack says. “Walk away from the fucked-up, bastard flatmate who never gave you anything but the fuck of the century.”
“That true, Hols?” Coop seethes.
“Yeah, Hols? You tell him you never had it so good? You tell him how all I have to do is look at you sideways and you’re chomping at the fucking bit? Begging me to fuck you harder, deeper, faster? You tell him how many times you come when you’re with me?”
“Keep talking, arsehole, and I’m gonna put my boot through your face,” Coop says.
“Did you tell him how I gave you head the other night while your boyfriend here watched a movie in the next room, and how I fingered you just now and you cried my name?”
Coop’s questioning gaze locks on mine. They might enjoy talking smack to one another, but one look at my guilty face and he knows. I don’t know where else to look.
“For Christ’s sake, Jack, shut up,” Elijah says as he kicks his mate in the ribs to get him to close his mouth.
Jack lets out an oomph, and then he wheezes, “’S’all good, I got nothing left to say, anyway.”
“Yeah, me neither.” Coop shakes his head. His gaze leaves mine, and then he stalks out.
“Coop, wait.” I waddle after him, but he’s already out the
front door and taking off down the drive before I can even make it to the veranda. I watch the tail-lights get further away before the darkness swallows them completely and then I scream, and yell, and curse Jackson-fucking-Rowe so much I’m sure I just hexed his bloodline for all eternity. I storm back inside and prepare to take his arse to task, but instead I walk in on Elijah giving him the third degree.
“Think about this, man. Use your fucking head. Stop driving the knife in deeper. She chose him? Fine. Either put up and shut up, or pull your balls outta ya arse and win her back. You want her, you gotta play your cards right,” he says and stands up, and then he backhands Jackson across the face.
“Ah! Fuck, Cade! What the hell was that for?”
“You fucking talk that way about her again, and I’ll be the one to punch your lights out. That’s the woman you love, arsehole, not one of your sluts. Don’t fucking forget it!”
Jack slams his head back against the cupboard. His eyes meet mine, and my heart lurches within my chest. His gaze is full of remorse.
“I hope you’re fucking happy, you bastard. You just chased away any shot of happiness I might have had.”
He narrows his eyes, steels his jaw. “It’s not happiness if you have to pretend, Hols. That fuck-stick can’t make you happy, not like I can.
“Bullshit. The only person you know how to make happy is yourself,” I scream and storm out the front door.
Ana calls out after me, but I hear Elijah tell her to leave me be. I jump in my car, and take off after Coop. I don’t care that I look like a raving loon, barefoot and pregnant, and driving around Sugartown in only a nightie. I have one shot at this, and waiting until morning, until he’s had too much time to think about it, means I’ll miss out. I screech the car to a stop at the front of the Sugartown Hotel, and I pound on the door that leads to the tenant rooms. When no one comes to let me in, I run back to the road and start screaming Coop’s name. He opens the window overlooking the street. “Go home, Holly.”
“No. I’m not going home until you talk to me.”
Dave the publican pokes his head through the third-storey apartment he shares with his Golden Retriever and says, “Mate, if you don’t let her in, I will. Some of us would like to get some sleep tonight. You remember the seven am deliveries, right?”
Coop sticks his head further out the window and looks up at Dave on the floor above him. “Thank you, Dave, That’s really helping.”
“I don’t give two shits if it’s helping or not, mate, shut that bloody harpy up or I’m gonna kick you out on your arse.”
I smile up, and give Dave the two-fingered salute. “Fuck you very much, Dave.”
Coop points at me. “Get your arse in the car, Holly. You shouldn’t be out on the road with my baby in the middle of the night.”
“No. I’m not going anywhere. Now open the door, and let me in.”
“Goddamn it,” he yells, and moves away from the window. A few seconds later, he opens the door, and stands with his arms folded in front of his chest.
“Are you going to let me in, or should I stay out here on the road all night with your baby?” I mock.
“You drive me fucking crazy,” he mutters and stalks back up the stairs. I follow, for fear that I’ll get left behind.
He opens the door to his room and steps inside, walking over to the bed and plonking himself down. He leaves me standing awkwardly in the doorway. I wish I had something to say to erase his anger. I wish I could erase the hurt. I wish I could erase Jackson Rowe.
I close the door behind me, and then I lean back against it and wring my hands together as I mumble, “I don’t really know where to start—”
“How about with the fact that he gave you head the other night? Let’s start there, shall we?”
“I didn’t know it was him,” I say, and tears sting my eyes. I pinch the bridge of my nose to stop them falling, but they slide down my cheeks anyway. “I swear. I didn’t. I was asleep, I woke up and he was—” Coop holds his hand up to stop me.
“I don’t wanna know the details.”
“I thought it was you, Coop.” My heart pounds within my chest. I’m sick to my stomach because for too long now I’ve been avoiding this moment, avoiding coming clean, and avoiding having to see him hurt this way. And I know that’s selfish. I know it’s wrong, and it’s so much worse that he found out this way, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him.
“And when did you figure out it wasn’t me?” His voice falters over that last word. My breath catches in my throat, because I can’t answer knowing what it will do to him. Coop shakes his head. “How long, Holly? Did you come with his mouth on you, knowing it wasn’t mine?”
I stumble over to the bed, and sit down hard on the edge. “Yes,” I whisper, and close my eyes against the onslaught of tears.
He sits up, resting against the headboard. He slams his head back against it. “Fuck!”
I flinch, hating that I’m the one to hurt him this way. He might’ve made mistakes in our past, but Coop deserves better than what I could ever give him, though I’m not selfless enough to give him up. “I couldn’t push him away. I’m sorry.”
“Why the fuck not? Huh, Hols? What is he to you that you can’t pull away from him? That’s my baby you’re carrying. I love you! I’d fucking give up everything for you, I have given up everything, to be here, for you, and it’s still not enough.”
“It is enough. That’s what I came here to tell you. You’re enough for me, Cooper.”
He shakes his head. “Bullshit. If I were enough, you wouldn’t be running to him every chance you get. You wouldn’t let him eat you out, or finger-fuck you in the kitchen while I’m asleep in the next room.”
I reach out and touch his hand, but he shrugs me off, gets up from the bed and begins pacing the tiny room.
“I’m an arsehole,” I say. “I’m a fucking horrible person. I’m a bitch. I don’t deserve you— ”
“You’re right, you don’t fucking deserve me,” he yells. “You know what you deserve, Holly?” I shake my head, afraid to speak for fear I’ll just anger him more. “Him. Jackson Rowe. You both fucking deserve one another.”
“I don’t want him. I want you.”
“Would you just …” Coop pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales loudly. “Just stop talking, Holly. You’re only digging the hole deeper. Just be honest for once, with me, yourself … with him.”
“Okay fine, you know what? I do want him. I want him so fucking much it hurts, but I don’t wanna hurt any more, and that’s all Jackson’s ever good at: hurting. Does that make you feel better, Coop? To hear me say it out loud?”
“Better?” He shakes his head. “No. Not even fucking close, not even a little bit, but at least we’re finally getting somewhere.”
“I want to try this with you,” I whisper.
Coop throws his head back, and runs his hands down over his face. “Why?” he asks, without looking at me.
“Because I want us to be a real family.”
“We can’t do that with him around.” He lets out a shaky breath. “I want you to move to Sydney with me.”
For a moment I just stare at him. All the promises we made to one another once upon a time, all the pain and heartache, and all the love that we once had between us is reflected there in his eyes.
“I love you, Holly. I wanna give our baby a real home. Just the three of us.”
I swallow the lump in my throat, and push back the sting of fresh tears. “Okay.”
Coop narrows his eyes, searching my face. “Okay? Okay you’ll move to Sydney with me?”
“Yes, I’ll move to Sydney with you.”
His responding smile is so wide I’m sure I can see every one of his perfect rock-star teeth. “You’re really serious?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
Cooper takes a few short strides towards me, catches my hand up in his calloused one and kneels down, wedging himself between my legs. He cups my face in his hands. “You have no id
ea how happy you just made me.”
I smile as he places a chaste kiss to my lips, but inside my heart is cracking open. So why say yes? Why agree to move over seven hundred kilometres away from my home, from my family, from Jack? Because my heart told me to stay, and I’ve never had anything good come from listening to that motherfucker. I’m also finally discovering that my life is no longer just about me. The most important thing in my life is the baby I’m about to bring into the world, and the best thing for him is that we become a family, so even though my heart is breaking, I kiss Cooper back. I shut down the part of me that tells me to stop, silence the voice in my head that says this is wrong.
He climbs onto the bed and pulls me down beside him. For a long time we lay there, talking about what our future might hold, and then when I can’t keep my eyes open any longer he tucks my back into his front, his hand cradling my stomach and he hums to me Otis Redding’s I’ve Been Loving You Too Long, a song he always sang to me because I loved when his smooth voice would become gravely over all the right notes and I could practically feel my ovaries exploding. Before I can fall asleep he whispers, “I’m gonna make you happy, baby. You’ll see.”
“I know,” I whisper back. “I know you will.”
And I want so badly to believe it. I want it to be true, even though I know it’s a lie. I know Coop will try with everything within his power to make it happen, and if it were anyone else it might be true, but for me, there’s only one man who can make me feel that way, and right now his heart is probably just as shattered as mine.
THE NEXT morning, it feels like I’ve gone three rounds in the ring with a jackhammer. I wake up on the floor of the tool shed, with the remains of Snickers’ kennel serving as a pillow. Damn dog, I think as I shove the broken boards away from me and slowly sit up. I stagger to my feet and immediately fall back down on my arse again, taking half of the contents of the workbench with me.
Enjoy Your Stay Page 18