Destiny Revealed (There's Always Tomorrow Book 2)
Page 10
Mike grunts from the impact but wraps his arms around her.
“Oh god, are you okay?” Anna asks, pulling away only to cup his face.
Mike winces then gently pries her hands from his face. “I’m okay. Nothing some staples and a cast can't fix.” He smirks.
“What happened?” Anna asks, glancing around at the other guys.
Vance is sitting Indian style on his bed, one arm secured tightly to his chest. His other hand is being used as a chin rest while he stares at the gorgeous girl who is passed out in the bed next to him. Ryder is lying on his bed straight-legged, with his ankles crossed, while his whole arm is being casted from pit to wrist. And Dayne is still snoozing.
Then her eyes land on Tripp and her heart leaps in her chest. His eyes are black and blue. He has a white brace taped to his nose, obviously broken. He’s wincing and gasping in pain as the doctor checks out his very swollen knee. He’s sitting in just his boxer-briefs, an unbuttoned dress shirt with a white wife-beater underneath, and his dress socks. It’s not fair how freaking hot he is.
“It's a long story, but Vance's Expedition flipped multiple times with us in it,” Mike says.
“Shit, you guys are lucky you're not worse off,” Anna says quietly, keeping her gaze on Tripp.
Anna has had a thing for Tripp for as long as she can remember. Even when they were really young, she would always follow him around and get on his nerves. Now that they are both adults - Anna is only two years younger than he is - she is completely in love with him, and she is sure that he loves her back. But Tripp refuses to act on their mutual attraction because of Mike. Tripp’s afraid that if they get together and it doesn't last, he'd lose Mike as a friend. Mike would joke and tell her “bros before hoes, Anna.” Asshole. Her brother can be such a dick sometimes.
“Go on, he needs some TLC,” Mike says, giving her a nudge with his shoulder.
Anna gives him a skeptical look. Mike's features soften and his gaze on her turns affectionate. “Go hold his hand or something,” he murmurs and winks at her. He knows of her feelings for Tripp - everyone does - and he loves to tease her about it.
Anna bites back a smile. “Dickhead.” She giggles as she turns to go over to Tripp.
“Love you, too, sis.” Mike chuckles.
Anna saunters over to Tripp's bed. His head is digging back into the pillow, his eyes are screwed shut, and his jaw is clenched tight. He’s in obvious pain as the doctor pokes and prods his very swollen knee. The doctor must have done something extra painful because Tripp cries out as his hands fly up to grip the top of the mattress behind his head.
“Hey, breathe,” Anna murmurs softly and places her hand on his non-injured leg.
Tripp's eyes fly open to meet her concerned gaze. “Anna, what are you doing here?” he grunts in pain.
“I heard you guys were in an accident. Had to come and make sure you’re all still alive,” she says with a soft smile.
“Yeah well...ahhh! What the fuck are you doing?” Tripp shouts at the doctor, who jumps, not expecting to be yelled at.
The young resident doctor glances at Anna before looking at Tripp. “I'm going to order an MRI; there is too much swelling to really tell what’s going on,” he says.
“Go fucking do that and stop touching my knee!” Tripp snaps and glares at the doctor until he scurries away.
Anna strokes Tripp's bare thigh in an effort to soothe him. He drops his head back down to the pillow and huffs.
“Fuck, that hurt,” he groans, blinking rapidly, probably trying to fight off tears.
Anna's heart clenches. She hates seeing him in pain. The last time she saw him in this much pain was eight years ago when he was in the Navy. He was on his second tour as a SEAL in Afghanistan when his unit got ambushed. Tripp was the only one to come out alive. He'd been shot and burned, and somehow fought off his attackers until reinforcements arrived. But even though he was well enough to come home, he was in an immense amount of pain. Anna fights back tears just thinking about it. Tripp hasn’t been the same after returning from oversees. He is quieter, more reserved; it took months before Anna saw him smile after his return. And of course, he adamantly refuses to talk about what happened over there.
“Hey! Whatever you're thinking about, knock it off,” Tripp's soft command snaps her out of her memories. His eyes search hers, worry and concern etched into his handsome features.
“Sorry,” Anna shakes herself to get rid of her gloomy thoughts.
It is then that she realizes that he placed his hand over hers on his thigh. “How are the babies upstairs?” he asks warmly, a small smile curling his perfect mouth.
Anna smiles. The jerk always knows how to distract her from her random thoughts. But isn't she supposed to be the one doing the distracting?
“So perfect and beautiful and amazing.” Anna sighs. She loves babies. She wants to have a whole shitload of them whenever she gets married…preferably to and with the sexy man in front of her.
Anna really doesn't want anyone else. She had to admit to herself a long time ago that she was in love with him and probably always would be. She’s also still a virgin because she can't bear the thought of any other man touching her like that. She'll convince him eventually that they’re meant to be together, if he doesn't already know it. He is weakening; she can see it in his eyes. He wants her as much as she wants him.
“Hey, how's the coddling coming along over there?” Mike asks, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
“’Coddling?’” Tripp says dryly, slanting a glance her way.
Anna rolls her eyes at him. “You know damn well I am not coddling you.”
Tripp smirks, making Anna want to kiss him so badly; she can't stop her eyes from dropping to his full mouth. God, the things she's imagined him doing with that mouth; it makes her blood boil and things down below clench. One day, she is going to kiss him whether he wants her to or not. She has to get a least one taste of him before she dies.
“Stop looking at me like that, Anna,” Tripp murmurs, his voice going low and husky.
Anna shudders and drags her eyes back up to his. Tripp's light blue eyes are blazing with desire and want. The longing is in there, too, making Anna's heart leap excitedly in her chest.
Before Anna can reply, another nurse comes over to take Tripp to get his MRI.
“I'll see ya later, Anna,” Tripp says softly.
Anna nods. “Yup.”
They stare at each other until the nurse wheels Tripp out of sight.
“Whoa, he totally has it bad for you, Anna.” Ryder snorts.
Anna smiles. “You think so?”
“Absolutely.” Ryder nods.
Anna smiles wide, unable to hide her delight.
Melina is curled on her side in Vance's bed after getting a much-needed shower. She can't really wash her hair because of the staples, and her casted broken wrist doesn’t make it any easier. Vance had offered to help, but she wanted to be alone in the shower where she could cry and not be bothered. Now, Vance is in the bathroom, pretty much taking a sponge bath because he can't take off his harness yet, which is there to keep his arm in place after being dislocated. The doctor popped his shoulder back into place, but said that it needed to remain immobilized for about a week to help all of the muscles and tendons heal.
Melina feels bad. She feels like she should be in there helping him, but she just can't make herself move. There is no way that he can reach his back. Instead of getting up and washing it for him, she is just lying there, staring at the ceiling. Some girlfriend she’s turning out to be; one that’s too concerned with herself and her problems to help her boyfriend. Plus, this is all her fault to begin with. What a bitch.
Vance emerges out of the bathroom about 45 minutes later, further fueling Melina's downward spiral of guilty thoughts. Behind her, Vance props his pillows up against the headboard. He carefully maneuvers himself into bed and leans back against his pillows, groaning a little in discomfort.
“Fuck, I migh
t be sleeping on the recliner,” he mutters almost to himself.
The silence between them is thick as Vance shifts around to get comfortable.
“Baby, you gotta talk to me. You haven't said a word since you woke up after the sedative,” Vance says softly, “You're startin’ to freak me out.”
“You and your friends...my friends…almost got killed because of me,” Melina whispers.
Vance lets out a heavy sigh. “Melina, it's not your fault. Damien is crazy. He was always a little off, but now he’s taken it to a whole new level of insane.”
“But now he's targeting you and the guys. I could never live with myself if something happened to you or them,” Melina croaks, on the verge of tears once again.
The bed shifts behind her, and Vance grunts a couple of times. Then Melina feels his uninjured arm slip under her neck and his body nestling up behind her, his injured arm stuck in between them.
Melina gasps. “Vance, what are you doing? You’re going to hurt yourself!” She starts to turn but Vance holds her with his good arm across her chest, his hand grasping her shoulder.
“Too late, now just let me hold you,” Vance says, his voice strained, but he tucks himself in tighter, completely spooning her from head to toe. “There’s nothing we can do right now but heal. There’s an APB out for Damien.”
“What happens if they can’t find him?” she asks, shakily.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Now let me hold you and sleep.”
Vance snuggles his face into the back of Melina's neck. She can't stop the tears this time, so she just lets go, grasping Vance's forearm that is across her chest with her good hand. Melina bawls her eyes out, and Vance lets her, holding her tight. Could he be a better boyfriend? He’s putting himself in a painful position just so he can hold her. It’s just what she needs, for him to hold her and not say anything. She doesn't want to hear that everything will be fine because that would be a lie. She doesn't want soothing words. She just needs his comfort, which he is more than willing to give. Melina eventually cries herself to sleep.
Chapter 9
**Harper**
Harper really hates that she has to come to this fucking house to see Melina, but she has no choice. Melina is staying with Vance until this whole Damien thing is taken care of. After the accident that he caused, Harper can't say that she blames Melina. And that was already two weeks ago. Harper would’ve done the same and stayed with Vance and the guys, too, if it had happened to her. Well, except for Dayne. He’s a fuckwad. She'd rather not have to see him ever again.
Now, she hates him as much as she loves him. They had two amazing dates and out-of-this-world chemistry. She definitely fell in love with him that first time they met, but she won’t let him play with her heart anymore. Harper doesn't play games, and she is certainly not a pushover.
Harper rings the doorbell and waits, praying to God that Dayne doesn't answer. She can't stand the way that he looks at her. The longing in his eyes is heart wrenching. She can't stand it, but she also can’t feel bad for him. That would weaken her resolve and she can't let that happen. He had his chance, and he isn't getting another.
The door opens and it’s Dayne. Fuck. His expression changes in an instant. He was semi-smiling, but now he’s frowning. The pain in his eyes kills her. He looks away as he steps out of the doorway to let her in.
“Hey,” Harper says dryly and walks into the foyer.
“Hi,” Dayne murmurs, barely audible. He shuts the door then turns and heads up the stairs. Harper flinches when a door upstairs slams.
Boy does that grate on her nerves. He's the one who dumped her. Why is he sulking? He got his wish - he's single and doesn't have to answer to anyone. But yet he's pouting and slamming doors. Asshole! He can have his cake and eat it, too, if he just lets go of his past. The thought makes Harper so angry that she storms up the stairs.
Once in the hallway, she isn't sure which door is his. There are seven to pick from. Lucky for her, Tripp hobbles out of one of the doors on crutches. He does a double take when he sees her standing at the top of the stairs, her hands on her hips.
“Lost?” he asks, his handsome face seemingly amused.
“Yeah, I'm trying to find the asshole that dumped me,” Harper snaps.
Tripp's mouth twitches as he fights off a smile. He points to the last door on the left. “He’s in there.”
“Thanks,” Harper says and starts down the hall.
Tripp shakes his head and chuckles as she passes him, “Oh God, he's so in for it,” he mutters to himself and heads for the stairs.
Harper doesn't bother knocking, she just barges in. Dayne, who is sitting at the end of his bed, head in his hands, shoots to his feet and gapes at her.
“What the fuck, Harper?” he demands, looking around his room. Probably for anything she doesn’t want her to see, if she were to guess.
Harper slams the door shut and starts toward him. “What the hell is your problem, slamming doors like I was the one who hurt you?” she shouts then pushes at his chest in anger.
Dayne stumbles back a couple of steps, his expression turning irritated and angry. “Don’t put your hands on me like that again,” he growls through gritted teeth, his fists clenched at his sides.
“Fuck you, Dayne,” Harper sneers. “Who the hell do you think you are, walking around here for the past couple of weeks as if you’re the one who had their heart broken? Why are you getting all pissy and shit when I come over, like I was the one who dumped you? You've got some fuckin’ balls.”
“This is why you burst into my room and push me? Because I'm ‘pissy’? That's nothing new, sweetheart,” Dayne says, his tone dry.
Harper's anger flares and she lets out an aggravated scream through clenched teeth. She starts toward him again. Dayne gives her a warning look but she doesn't really care; she is so mad and hurt and upset. She lashes out and attempts to slap him hard across the face, but Dayne was a millisecond quicker.
“Bitch!” Dayne bites out, grabs her around the waist, and throws her on the bed.
Dayne covers her with his hard body, pinning her hands above her head on the bed with his. His nostrils flare as he pants, definitely from anger, but more likely from the need to take her tight little body and make it his. Harper fights to get free, knowing full well that she isn't going to succeed. He’s twice her size.
“Stop it, Harper! Just stop,” Dayne snaps, his face only an inch from hers.
Harper stills. God what is she doing? She turns her face away so she doesn't have to look at him. She should never have gotten this close to him. His scent is intoxicating, and his body covering hers has her burning with need. Dayne curses and drops his - still healing - forehead to her temple.
Dayne's hot breath tickles her cheek and neck. “I'm sorry. I get that you’re angry at me, but you don't need to hit me,” he whispers.
Dayne shifts her hands closer together so that he can hold them with one hand. The other grasps her chin and turns her face back to look at him. “I think I deserve an apology,” he says softly, his hazel eyes staring down into hers.
“Not until you admit that you care about me,” Harper says.
Dayne closes his eyes, looking physically pained. “I can't...I can't tell you something that I don't feel,” he breathes. Harper knows immediately that he’s lying.
“You're a fuckin’ liar, and a coward, and I fucking hate you. I will not apologize!” Harper cries and tries again to wrench free of his hold.
Dayne doesn't budge. He just stares at her, his eyes teeming with emotions that he probably hasn't felt in years. His jaw is locked tight and his body is tense. The tears just hit her out of nowhere and she can't stop them. They slide from her eyes, down her temples, and into her hair. She is just so pissed off and upset, and whenever she gets that way, she cries. And now, she is even more pissed that he is seeing her cry.
She is just about to tell him to let her go when his mouth covers hers. He groans. His eyes slide clo
sed as he presses more firmly against her lips with his. Harper fights it at first, keeping her lips tightly closed, but she is no match for Dayne. He coaxes her with small soft pecks, a couple of little nibbles to her bottom lip, and then a lengthier, more heated press of his lips against hers. Before she knows it, she is kissing him back. Tears continue to flow as Dayne kisses her passionately, his fingers lacing into hers where he is still holding them above her head.
**Dayne**
Dayne has lost his goddamned mind. That is the only explanation he has as to why he’s kissing Harper on his bed. Her sweet little body under his. Her small breasts pressed against his chest. His hips fitted against hers, their legs tangled together. When she started crying, it tore his heart out. He feels like a douchebag, trying to lie and say that he doesn't care about her. She hadn't bought it anyway. So he thought that he could make it better by kissing her? Idiot.
Dayne drags his mouth down to her neck. He still has her hands above her head, not exactly trusting her not to try to hit him again. Dayne likes his women feisty, but that doesn't mean he likes getting slapped around.
“Dayne,” Harper breathes, “Dayne, stop.”
Dayne sighs and brings his face up to look at her. Her crystal blue eyes are watery and bloodshot, and her lips are a darker pink now from him kissing her. She blinks and more tears flow from her eyes. Oh God, he's never felt like this. He's never had a problem seeing women cry. Other than his mother, he’s never given a shit. He’s also used to being the one that makes them cry, but it’s totally different with Harper. He doesn’t want to be the one causing her pain.
“Please, don't cry,” he whispers, releasing her hands so that he can brush away her tears.
“Why...why can't you say it?” she cries softly.
Fuck, he really doesn't want to have this conversation, but how else is she supposed to understand why he can't give her what she wants? Dayne rolls off her and lies next to her on his back. “You know I've been married before, right?” he asks, glancing over at her.