I stand over them and slam the glass bottles down on the table so hard, half of the alcohol spills.
The fucker’s little beady eyes look at the drinks and then at me. “Can I help you?” he asks.
“Yeah, you can fuck off.”
“Kent!” Savannah chastises.
Is she fucking serious?
“What are you doing?”
The guy shifts in his seat. “Is this your boyfriend?”
Savannah snaps, “No.”
He holds his hand up. “I’m not looking to get in the middle of anything.”
Neither Savannah nor I look at the prick as he gets up and walks off; we’re too busy glaring at each other.
“You spilled the drinks,” she says.
I laugh, but there’s no humour behind it. I don’t care about the fucking drinks. “That’s all you have to say?”
Slipping out of the booth, she puts her hands on her hips. “I don’t know what your problem is, but you need to back off.”
“My problem? You’re the one coming around my fingers and practically fucking me on the dance floor and against the bar, and then I come back to find you with that dickhead!”
“I was not nearly fucking you, and you’re the one with the massive head, assuming I want you like everyone else.”
“Savannah, you admitted it.”
“Oh my God, you’re so annoying!”
“Are you drunk?”
“No!” she snaps.
“Suffer from severe short-term memory loss?”
She growls, and her face turns red. “Fuck off, Kent!”
“You fuck off.”
“Oh, good one.”
Jesus, what the hell is her problem? My chest burns, temper ready to bust. “You know what, Savannah? Go back and find that guy.”
Dismissively waving her good hand at me, she replies, “Maybe I will, and you go find someone nice and easy to sleep with tonight. Big tits at the bar seemed up for it.”
“I will.”
“Have fun with your syphilis.”
I turn around, burning with anger, and scan the crowd. Fucking syphilis. I can’t deny that her comeback was much better than mine, but I’m sure as hell not going to admit it to her.
Ignoring whatever she’s doing behind me—I don’t care anyway—I head over to a woman at the bar. She was eyeing me earlier, so she’s the easiest bet tonight.
Smiling as I lean on the bar beside her, I say, “That dress is really working for me.”
She turns to the side and smiles. I know I’ve got her. “Is that right?”
I drag my eyes down her body. “Oh, yeah.”
All I can think is how much better Savannah’s dress and her body work for me.
Well, she can get the fuck off my mind.
What am I thinking? If she was easy to expel from my head, I would have done it a long time ago.
I’m so over Savannah. This new chick is coming home with me.
15
Savannah
My head hurts. The previous night’s events come flooding back the second I open my eyes in the morning.
I pull my legs into my stomach and groan. What the hell was I thinking with Kent last night? Well, he asked me to dance, and he was being nice and flirty, so I thought we were getting on. He was the one coming on to me. Until I told him where to go, and he moved on to another woman, that is. Though he left alone.
I got jealous, and we argued like a damn married couple.
Oh my God, can the ground swallow me up, please?
How am I supposed to face seeing him at Heidi’s birthday barbeque today?
Maybe I can pretend I’m sick. Heidi wasn’t around to see my argument with Kent last night, so she won’t know I’m lying.
Kent will though. But I’m firmly back to not caring what he thinks.
I reach for my phone to text Heidi and warn her that I’m not well, so I might not make it today. I’ll give her the gift I bought when I see her at work on Monday.
Unlocking my phone, I see three missed calls from an unknown number.
My finger hovers above the screen to ring it back. Unknown numbers always make me nervous since I left my parents’ house.
I should just ignore it and call Kent. There’s some damage control that I should work on since I’ve become friends with his whole family. A part of me wants to do that. I want to call him and say everything that’s on my mind, but the other part doesn’t ever want to see him again. I’m so stupid for thinking he actually liked me, that our rocky start was over.
I always run from confrontation. I keep to myself, so I can’t be hurt again. I’ve become a shadow of my old self because of my past. I don’t want to keep running. I want to be strong again.
The old me wouldn’t take any crap.
Jesus, I can’t believe I’m doing this.
With a deep breath that has my heart thumping, I call the landline number I’d missed.
“Savannah?”
I drop the phone like it’s on fire, and my hand flies to my throat.
“Sav?” My name is quieter this time because my phone is facedown on my bed, but his voice is unmistakable.
Simon.
How did he get my number?
No.
My heart drops.
I flip it over and end the call.
When I ran away, I changed my number. I’m going to have to do that again. Heidi is going to ask why, so I’m going to have to tell another lie.
My phone starts ringing again, so I flick it on silent.
This is just fucking fabulous.
My doorbell rings. I rub my temples.
Whoever it is needs to go away. It’s Sunday, and after last night, I don’t want to see another human for at least twenty-four hours.
Everything can go to hell.
Fuck Simon.
Tears sting my eyes. He wasn’t supposed to find me. I can’t have him calling.
The bell rings again.
Sighing sharply, I shove the quilt off me and get up, leaving my phone flashing with another call from Simon.
Not happening, arsehole.
I stomp through my apartment like a kid having a tantrum and yank my door open.
Kent looks up, and apparently, I can’t catch a fucking break.
“Yes?” I say as a greeting. I’m on edge, my hands shaking from the shock of hearing Simon’s voice.
Kent doesn’t speak. His eyes trail down my body.
I’m still wearing an oversize T-shirt. I’m wearing only an oversize T-shirt.
Perfect.
Folding my arms over my chest, I glare. “What do you want, Kent?”
His eyes find mine again. “I wanted to see how you were.”
“Why?”
He shrugs.
“I’m fine. Take care.”
I grip the edge of the door and close it, but Kent shoves his arm in the way. He slides through the gap, and he’s in my apartment.
“I’d kill for a coffee.”
“If you don’t leave, the only thing being killed will be you.”
“Your place is nice,” he says, looking around, ignoring me.
I want to be madder at him than I already am, but I can’t. He doesn’t look out of place in my living room.
I slam the door shut. “I’m putting shorts on. You make the coffee.”
“I don’t know where everything is.”
“You’re a big boy. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” The very second the words leave my mouth, I know I’ve messed up.
Kent laughs. “Yes, I am, baby.”
I roll my eyes as I walk away from him and into my bedroom. I’d love to kick him out, and I will, but I do want to hear what he’s got to say first. Kent doesn’t seem like the kind of person to go apologising to a woman, so this, whatever it is, will be interesting.
I throw on a pair of shorts and dash into my bathroom to brush my teeth. My reflection in the mirror is awful. Hair is a wild mess, matted at the side, and I didn’
t properly remove my makeup because I have two thin black lines under my eyes from my mascara.
Excellent.
At least Kent was too fixed on my semi-naked body to notice my face.
Dragging a brush through my long hair, I manage to tame it, so it looks somewhat decent. I don’t care about dressing up in front of Kent though, so I take a wipe and run it under my eyes. I’m not putting makeup on today.
Closing my eyes, I grip the edge of the sink. Keep calm. Everything is going to be okay.
Unlocking my bathroom door, I walk through my bedroom and into the kitchen/living area.
Kent is pouring boiling water into two mugs when I make my way over.
“You have milk and no sugar, right?” he asks.
It’s such a weird and domesticated question, which sounds odd, coming from him.
“Milk, no sugar, yeah.”
What are we doing?
I stop beside him and watch him tip a spoonful of sugar into his mug. He glances at me, his eyes drinking me in.
Why does he have to be so good-looking? I’ve not been this attracted to a man in … forever. Physically attracted. Beyond skin deep, I just think he’s a massive twat.
“You’re staring, Savannah.”
“I’ve not seen you look away yet, Kent.”
His eyebrow rises, and the corner of his lip quirks. “You’re fun in the morning.”
“Just finish the coffee, so you can be on your way.” I turn away and go sit on my sofa.
I don’t like him being here. He’s too close to my life, being in my apartment. Heidi has only been here a couple of times.
Although he went off and spoke to a woman, he didn’t actually do anything. He calmed down, said good-bye to Heidi and his friends, and left alone. Toby didn’t say anything, but he was the one to witness our argument. Heidi had been dancing with a guy, and Max had taken off with a woman he’d met.
Kent joins me and puts the drinks on the coffee table. “Hungover?” he asks.
“Nope.”
“You’re angry. Why are you angry?”
Is he for real?
“I’m not angry. I’m annoyed.”
Annoyed at Kent for leading me on, annoyed at myself for falling for it, and annoyed at Simon for being such a massive prick. My phone is in the bedroom, and I don’t dare look at it yet. Simon is forcing me to change my number. I don’t know who he’ll tell, but my parents haven’t tried to get ahold of me yet, so he must have kept it to himself. Unless, of course, my parents aren’t really that interested in contacting me.
“Why are you annoyed?”
“You woke me up,” I quip, lying through my teeth.
“That’s it?” He shifts his body, and his leg presses against mine. “I’m sorry about last night.”
“You have nothing to apologise for.”
“I don’t?” he asks.
I nod my head, diverting my eyes. “Nope. Most of the time, you can barely stand me, so I really don’t know why you feel the need to say sorry.”
He’s not even voiced what he’s saying sorry for.
“Savannah,” he whispers.
Defiantly, I ignore his plea and reach for my coffee. I cannot wait to get this damn splint off. This morning, the restricted movement is proper pissing me off.
“I don’t dislike you.”
Rolling my head, I look up at him. “You don’t?” My words are sarcastic because he certainly does dislike me.
“No. You irritate the fuck out of me, but I don’t dislike you.”
I get the impression he silently added anymore on the end there.
“Why do I irritate you?”
“Because you’re not being you. I see you hold back so much that you want to say.”
How the hell does he see that?
I clench my teeth.
“Why are you holding back?” he asks.
Fuck off.
“I’m not holding back. I just have very little patience for bullshit, so I prefer to keep to myself.” That is true. Since Simon, I have no time for most people.
He watches me for a minute. I’m not sure if he’s going to push the matter or let it go.
“All right.” He nods. “So, if we’re not arguing, I’ll get the real Savannah? Like the first part of last night.”
Ah, the part before we argued in the middle of the club.
“Maybe. If you can manage not to piss me off.”
Chuckling, he throws his arm over the back of my sofa. The tension in his muscles is gone. I think he believes me.
He smirks. “I’ll try my best. Do you want to talk about me getting you off with my fingers or us almost having sex on the dance floor?”
My back stiffens. “No.”
What the fuck? Who brings that up? Well, Kent does.
“Are you sure? I’m trying not to piss you off, so to do that, we should talk about what happened.”
“You know nothing about women! That’s the exact opposite of what will not piss me off.”
How is an intelligent man, who is also a successful business owner, so fucking stupid?
“I wanted to take you home, too,” he says.
“Oh my God, Kent, stop.” I don’t need his pity. This whole thing is humiliating enough as it is.
“What’s your problem? Why don’t you want to discuss this? I don’t like holding back. I hate secrets and fucking lies.”
The venom in his words makes my heart slow. What?
“Are you still talking about last night?” I didn’t lie last night.
His chest caves with a sharp intake of breath. He slowly breathes out. “No, I just … I’m sorry. I prefer to have everything out in the open.”
Yeah, that worked amazingly the last time I had everything out in the open …
Can’t say I’m loving out in the open.
“We both had a few drinks, and it happened. Or didn’t happen. Whatever. It’s done, so don’t worry.”
“Don’t worry?” he asks.
I nod. “Yep. Let’s forget it.”
Kent frowns. “All right.”
“Good. It’s forgotten then,” I confirm.
Kent’s eyes linger on mine.
Nothing is forgotten.
16
Kent
Forget. Savannah wants us to forget. I know we probably should since things go from inferno to ice cold with us in a nanosecond, and that’s not good with her being my sister’s friend, but I can’t—not the part where we were dancing and flirting, and it felt as natural as breathing. Everything was going well, and we were getting on. I got to see that side of her that made me genuinely like her and not just her body.
Of course it wasn’t going to last.
We fucked things up. I fucked things up.
“So, is that all you came here for?” she asks.
I came here to pick up where we’d left off before I made a mess of things. But I can’t tell her that. She wants to forget it.
“I wanted to clear the air before Heidi’s barbeque.”
She kicks her legs up underneath her. “Yeah, I’m not sure if I’m going to go.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not feeling well.”
She just looked me square in the eye and lied.
My hand tightens around the handle on the mug, and I resist the urge to snap. It’s a white lie, one she feels she has to make because of my behaviour last night. I might hate lying, but I can’t hold this one against her, not when it’s me she wants to escape.
“Really? You didn’t have that much to drink last night.”
“It’s not alcohol-induced. I’m just not feeling great.”
I sigh, closing my eyes. “We’re cool now, Savannah.”
“Yeah, I know. This has nothing to do with you.”
When I open my eyes again, she’s nervously biting her lip.
“Bullshit.” I take a sip of my coffee.
Savannah glares at me, her naked face impossibly beautiful, even when she’s angry. “I
t’s not bullshit.”
“Heidi really wants you there. So does Brooke and my mum.”
“I’ll invite them out to lunch one day.”
Fuck, she’s impossible.
“It wouldn’t suck for me to have you there either.”
There, I said it.
Jesus. I like Savannah. Despite knowing very little about her and only seeing her true personality a couple of times, though she’s always herself in messages, I like her. And not just in a wanting-to-get-her-naked way. I just wish she would drop the false side of her that she was so determined to show the world. It’s like, if she portrays herself as someone in the background, she won’t be bothered.
After everything I’ve been through, I still know I don’t want to live a lie.
“Why? So, you can come on to me all night and then leave with one of Heidi’s friends?”
“Yes, to the first part, and, well, you’re the only friend going, so yes to that, too.”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re not coming home with me.”
“I’m home with you right now.”
“You know what I mean, dickhead!” she says, nudging my arm.
“Can we call a truce again? No more arguing.”
“That sounds easy.” The sarcastic tone in her voice makes me laugh. “It’s not worked the other times we’ve tried.”
“Yeah, we’re not good at that.”
She lifts her eyebrow. “Perhaps because you keep bringing up screwing each other’s brains out every five minutes.”
I hold my hand up. “Sorry, it’s hard not to when you constantly make me hard.”
“Didn’t we just say we’re not going to do that?”
“Sorry.” I grin.
“I’ll come to Heidi’s barbeque,” she concedes. “You’d better be on your best behaviour, Lawson!”
With a salute, I reply, “I’ll be like a Boy Scout. Or a monk.”
“I’m surprised you even know what a monk is.”
“Come on, I’m not that bad.”
“Have you only ever had one girlfriend?”
Why is she bringing this up?
“Yeah. Why?”
“Just wondering if there’s a reason for the man-whoring or if you’re a genuine one.”
Laughing, I tip my head back. “A genuine one?”
“You know, one who just likes lots of sex and isn’t trying to get back at anyone or the memory of someone.”
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