by Shealy James
“Why didn’t he?”
“I have no idea, but I suspect it had something to do with Candace. You’d have to ask him.”
“Not going to happen.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is that I still feel about you now the way I did back then. You’re it for me, and I don’t want to make the mistake of leaving you wondering ever again.”
“Oh?” I replied dumbly.
“Yeah, oh,” he whispered just before his lips took mine. My body immediately molded to his in the familiar way that only two people who belonged together could. His hands dove in my hair and tugged to angle my head for a deeper kiss, and I didn’t refuse. A girl could get used to that kind of enthusiasm.
When he broke the kiss, he kept his forehead resting on mine. “How about I take you to dinner, then back to my place?”
“More talking?” I was sure my disappointment rang loud and clear in the tone of my voice. I was still breathing heavily. The last thing I wanted to do right then was talk.
“Not if I can help it.” That simple statement held more promise than everything else we’d said in the past twenty-four hours combined. And I craved the intention behind that promise more than I could describe. Ten years, people! It had been a decade since I had been with him.
We didn’t make it to dinner. We hardly made it to the car. Heat poured from our eyes. Desire was evident in every touch. This was going to be a night to remember.
He opened the door for me, but his muscular body quickly trapped me against the car as his lips descended on mine. Our lips opened, allowing the spark that was brewing beneath to fully light. We were in for an explosion of epic proportions if this continued. One of us was going to have to slow things down. Then his hands lowered and gripped my rear like he was holding on for dear life, and I knew, I just knew there was no slowing this train down.
He ripped his lips from mine, breathing heavily, and he gently nudged me into the car. I fell against the seat and tried to get control over my own breathing. He ran around to the driver’s side, and the next thing I knew we were speeding toward his house on the longest journey ever. Yes, the speedometer said we were over the legal limit, but I was seconds away from getting what my body so desperately desired.
Then we arrived. Things happened quickly. Before I could climb out of the car, I was in Brock’s arms. He was carrying me into his house, taking me straight to his bed. His body was hovering over mine, and his lips descended upon my neck before I could even considering slowing us down.
Every touch of his lips, every sweep of his tongue, the caress of his fingers, I could feel in my core. Never had I been able to live in the moment like this, but he consumed me. I could think of nothing but him.
“I promise we’ll slow down, but not right now,” he growled as he ripped my top from my body and started on my pants.
“No, not right now.” I sounded like I was begging, but I didn’t care. If anything it only encouraged him more. His clothes were quickly tossed to the side before he was back on me again. Feeling him against me with nothing between us was every fantasy I didn’t know I still had.
It wasn’t long, or maybe it was. Time was indeterminable then. It only felt like seconds had passed before the spark ignited the fuse. The fuse connected to the bomb, and my body exploded right along with him.
We lay there in silence, gripping each other as we caught our breath. “I thought I would never forget what that felt like, but my memories have nothing on the real thing.”
“No…I definitely don’t remember it being like that.”
“You okay? I didn’t break you, did I?”
“I don’t know yet. I can’t move.”
“That’s okay. I’m good with staying like this forever.”
And that’s what we did. Well, we stayed like that until the next morning when my bladder had other ideas. I had to peel myself off of him to sneak out of bed without waking him. Fortunately, I knew he was a heavy sleeper. Some things never change.
After I did my business and found a spare toothbrush in his bathroom, I threw on his shirt and decided to check out the contents of his kitchen. I was starving since we skipped dinner. Eggs. Bacon. Pancakes. All excellent choices. I had just poured the pancakes when he came up behind me.
“I could get used to this.”
“Which part? Me cooking in your kitchen wearing only your shirt or having someone else make you breakfast?”
“You. This is one hundred percent about you.”
I turned the stove off and turned in his arms to hug him, but before my lips could reach his, a knock sounded at the front door.
Brock frowned down at me. “You expecting someone?”
“Uh. No. I don’t live here, remember?”
“Too bad. We should change that.”
“Stop it.” I wasn’t sure if he was joking. But one should know not to tease a potentially homeless girl with a newly-sparked libido. It was dangerous territory.
The knock interrupted again, so Brock finally pulled away to answer it while I plated our breakfast. The second I heard the voice I froze. Yes, I was holding a pancake. No, I didn’t realize it at the time.
“Hey baby!” A woman’s voice squealed.
That was bad enough, but when I heard Brock say, “Hailey?” like he recognized her, I had to go see who was at the door.
It was a sight to make me wish I hadn’t though. Déjà vu washed over me, but it wasn’t Candace Wood this time. There, hanging on Brock like a baby monkey, was a blonde model with legs as long as the Amazon and a face that I was sure had been on the cover of magazines. Brock held her up with his hands under her tanned thighs, which had my blood boiling considering I knew exactly where those hands had been all night. When he saw me standing there, he quickly dropped his grip on her. She took the hint, unwrapping her legs from his waist, but she kept one arm resting on his shoulder.
“Reagan,” Brock started, but my hand flew in the air to cut him off.
The woman turned to me and frowned. “Who are you?” she asked while keeping her arm looped through Brock’s. He didn’t flinch, but he was watching me. His eyes were wide like he was waiting for me to react. It only took a moment for everything to sink in, and when it did, it felt like I had been hit by a harpoon. Anger. Hurt. It all flooded me at once.
I had just told him how I felt about the whole Candace situation less than twenty-four hours before, and here we were. He couldn’t have planned it any better if he had tried. If he was getting me back for leaving him, if he was trying to hurt me as revenge, then mission accomplished.
My blood boiling was second to the fact that I was about to cry. I never cried, and I certainly wasn’t about to start, but he had fooled me. I believed that he came here for me. I fell for his lines, but for what? Why would he bother with me after so much time? I couldn’t figure out what it was all for if he had his model waiting for him. It was just like Brock, and I should have known better. He always had a blonde waiting in the wings. She was just another Candace Wood.
I glanced at the table right inside the door. The keys to his truck were sitting there just within reach. I grabbed them as I threw open the front door. I was getting the hell out of there, not even bothering to find my clothes or shoes. I was pretty sure my purse was in his truck at least, but right then I really didn’t care. I just needed to get away from him.
“Reagan!” he called after me, but I had surprised him and was able to make it to the car without him catching me. I slammed the door just as he reached it, and I was able to get away before the tears started to fall.
I angrily wiped them with the back of my hands, refusing to let even one sob escape. This was why I stayed away. This was why I let no one in. No matter how much you want to trust someone, no one is every really honest. He had someone else, and I let him pull me back in again.
A frustrated scream tore from my throat as a red light slowed down my escape. I just wanted to get to my car and get home. I didn’t want this;
that was for sure.
Chapter Twenty-One
Now
After running by the store to pick up my car, I headed home, still fuming from my morning with Brock and his blonde model. Yet another freaking yellow-haired girl! What was with him?
Jordan was standing at the counter when I threw the door open to the house. He had a banana halfway in his mouth in what could have been taken as a compromising position, but I wasn’t even in the frame of mind to make fun of him. It was a missed opportunity for certain.
Instead of enjoying his pleasure in the phallic-looking fruit, I threw Brock’s keys at him. “Brock will be coming by for these. I’m going to the gym. You tell him where I am, and that banana is the last thing you’ll ever eat.” His eyes widened, but the banana didn’t leave his mouth. He understood my mood.
I ran up to my room and changed into my workout gear before leaving the house again less than two minutes later. My favorite trainer was at the gym. She was a female boxer and one of the scariest women I have ever met. Her and her husband owned the gym, and combined I think they had two percent body fat.
As soon as Glenda—yes, as in the good witch—saw me, she was headed my way. “Been missing you around here, Reagan.”
“Sorry. I’ve been busy, but I need a tough work out today.”
“Then get your ass on that treadmill and warm up.” Yeah, she was a mega bitch when I needed her to be.
By the time I left the gym, my arms were so wobbly that I could hardly drive. Gripping the steering wheel was a small torture, but the good news was that Brock was the furthest thing from my mind…mostly because all my brain could process was pain.
I slowly made my way to my room, where I filled the tub with hot water and bubbles. I took my shoes off but climbed in with the rest of my clothes on. I was pretty sure my sports bra was now attached to my body anyway. With my head resting on the side, I let the water do its thing to soothe my aching muscles. I tried not to let my thoughts wander, but I unfortunately had little control over my thoughts.
There he was in my imagination. I could see him standing there clear as day with that girl hanging on him. I could imagine him over the years with every girl that came between us. A zebra never changes his stripes, or whatever that dumb saying was. I should have known better this time. Freaking nostalgia. It had me all confused. It was time to go back to waving at Restaurant Guy. He was safe considering I didn’t even know his name.
“Reagan!” A very male voice was shouting my name, and it didn’t belong to my brother. “Reagan.” He was much closer now, but I didn’t even bother to lift my head. Surely, he would respect my privacy in the bathroom. “This door better be unlocked, because I’m coming through it either way,” he warned, letting me know just in time that he no longer cared about bathroom etiquette.
The second the door flew open, his presence filled my bathroom. I kept my head resting on the side of the tub. “Go home, Brock. You’re barking up the wrong tree.”
“Are you taking a bath in your clothes?”
“Is that why you came barging in here? To see what I was wearing?”
“Very funny, Rea. You know why I’m here.”
“I do, and I don’t see any point. I don’t care if she means nothing. I don’t care if she’s just a friend. I don’t care, Brock. I have heard it all before from you. I knew better than to let myself believe you, and I did it anyway. I won’t make the same mistake again.”
“No, Reagan. That’s not going to fly anymore. I’m not sitting here waiting for you to go all-in. That girl was my ex. We lived together in Seattle up until I moved here. She wanted to get married, and I told her long ago I would never marry her. I told her that she was temporary. I never lied about you, and finding you was always part of the plan.”
I snorted rudely and shifted in the tub. I would not fall for this crap.
“I didn’t actually expect to still feel this way about you. There was always a chance that we would see each other and realize we were always supposed to be friends, but that’s not what happened, and you know it. You feel it just as much as I do. Hailey wasn’t ready to let go, but she knows all about you. Don’t you dare let her ruin what we have just because you’re scared.”
“I’m not scared, Brock,” I snapped. “I’m just not putting up with anyone’s bullshit anymore.”
“No, you’re hiding, Reagan, and I’m going to prove to you that you have nothing to be afraid of. You’re eventually going to have to give in to all those feelings you keep trapped in that steel vault.” Then he stormed out of the bathroom, slamming the door on the way out.
I was still for a moment, processing his words, before I quickly climbed out of the tub and ran to the door. “Brock! Brock, wait. What does that mean? What are you going to do?” I yelled loudly enough for him to hear me down the hall.
“You’ll see!” was the last thing I heard before the front door slammed.
Jordan appeared on the stairs and took one look at me before saying, “I guess this is a bad time to tell you that Dad is coming to dinner.”
“Go to hell, Jordan!” I snapped and turned back in my room to slam the door once more.
Finally, I peeled off my soaking wet clothes and cleaned up the water from the floor while I let my mind reel, trying to figure out what Brock had in store for me.
To be honest, I was a little afraid of what was to come. He was a conniving little bastard, but he had an advantage this time that he never had before—my dumbass brother. Jordan liked Brock, and Jordan also thought I needed to face both Brock and my father. Apparently, he wanted me to do it all in one day. I really needed to move out quickly. Time was not on my side.
Instead of sticking around to face the impending doom, I went to the store to do inventory and to shelve some new books. Screw them. When I decided I was hungry, I invited Melanie to come hang out. I even agreed to go to Restaurant Guy when she said that was the only way she’d come up there. I needed girl time—
Huh, I was pretty sure I had never said that before.
“So?” Melanie started once we were seated. “I have heard reports that a tall, muscular, and very attractive male between the ages of thirty and thirty five has been coming up to the store around closing.”
“From who?”
“I also heard that there may have been some serious parking lot kissing last night.”
“Who is your spy?”
“And that your car spent the night here…”
“Seriously. Someone needs to get a life.”
“Or you could just dish. What’s going on? Who’s the guy?”
“Good evening, ladies.” And just like that he was standing a foot away from me. He was even hotter up close. His blue eyes sparkled a little as he glanced my way with a small grin on his face. Restaurant Guy knew exactly who I was. He was tan and lean, and I definitely thought he was attractive, but there was nothing. No zip. No zing. No electricity. I felt absolutely nothing for him. Huge downer. At least he was nice to look at, though.
He took our drink orders and left with one last smile in my direction. When he was gone, I turned back to Melanie, who was staring at me expectantly. “Well?” she asked.
“Well what?”
“Your first interaction…how’d it feel?”
“Like I ordered a drink and want him to hurry up, so I can order some food.”
“Seriously, Reagan. You might be hopeless.”
“You might be right.”
After dinner, I finished a few things up at the bookstore to kill time. My dad wasn’t likely to stay late, so I figured I could safely arrive home somewhere around his ten o’clock bedtime. I was wrong. My street always has a lot of cars parked on it, so I didn’t notice exactly what cars were there until I walked into the house and heard laughter. I tried to turn and sneak back out, but Zoe caught me. “There you are, Reagan.”
For the first time since I had met her, I decided that I hated Zoe.
Everyone else’s heads started appearing
through the doorway. First it was Jordan, then Meyer. Of course my dad and Clara were still there, but the big surprise came when Brock broke through the crowd at the doorway to come kiss my cheek. “Hey, Rea. You’re just in time. We’re starting another round of bowling.”
“Bowling?” I stupidly asked, still trying to figure out why all these people were in my house.
“On the Wii,” Meyer explained. “You love this game.”
It was true. I did, but I didn’t want to play with my dad, let alone Brock. I didn’t even want them in my space.
“I’m good tonight. I’m just going to head to bed. You guys have fun, though.”
“Reagan.” My name had turned into multiple groans. Clearly, I was a huge let down.
Still, I stuck to my guns. “Sorry. Have fun without me.”
Just as I was about to close my bedroom door, a black-booted foot stopped me. Brock.
“What do you want?” I remained blocking the door until he crowded my space so I would either be pressed against him or forced to back up. I backed up but quickly questioned that choice when his presence once again filled the room.
“I thought we could talk for a minute.”
“No.”
“Okay, I’ll talk. You listen.”
“No.”
“Well, I’m going to talk. You can carry on with whatever it was you were going to do.”
I was going to get ready for bed, which entailed changing my clothes. I couldn’t nonchalantly do that in front of him. I chose to go hide in the bathroom, but he unsurprisingly followed me in there. At least with the water running while I washed my face and brushed my teeth, I couldn’t hear him speak. Unfortunately, he waited until I was finished to start speaking.
“Your dad said something interesting tonight.”
He waited for me to respond, but I went about picking up my dirty clothes and throwing them in my laundry, refusing to acknowledge him.
“He regrets what he did to you. I believe the words were, ‘Not a day goes by that I don’t regret destroying my relationship with my daughter.’ I believed him, you know. Jordan indicated he has been asking how to get back in your good grace for years, but you wouldn’t give him the time of day.”