by Tijan
His parents only helped because Stone made them. That was just the truth, and I needed to get over it. And I was trying to do that as I moved around the box, picking up the remaining dishes after everyone had left.
Cammie scooped up some of the emptied platters. “They called downstairs and could do with some help getting everything taken down. I’m taking these down. I’ll be back for another load.”
Ben was right behind her. “Me, too.” His arms were full of booze, though.
I nodded. “Got it. I’ll finish picking up.”
Both nodded, and then it was just me.
A toilet flushed.
Shit. I heard the sink in the bathroom turn on, off. The drier started. The door opened, and Colby walked out.
He stopped, scanning the room, craning his neck to look into the other section of the box.
His eyes found me after, and stark determination flared. He started for me.
I turned, reaching for more emptied dishes.
“Hey.” He stopped beside me. “Is that other girl gone?”
“Cammie?” I kept my head down.
“Yeah. She take off?”
“No. She just took a few things to the catering section.”
“Oh. Good.” He sounded relieved. “What’d you say her name was? Cammie? Does she work with you here? In the catering section?”
He was interested in Cammie.
The surprise and the relief mixed with a thread of warmth. Colby was a good guy. Cammie deserved a guy like him, but her boyfriend. I didn’t know much about her boyfriend, just that he wasn’t here and she was tight-lipped about him.
“Uh…she has a boyfriend.”
Colby laughed, snorting. “Is he a professional athlete?” I could hear his arrogant smirk. I didn’t even need to look up.
“I don’t know.” I moved around him. Most of the glasses had been picked up. I headed behind the bar. Ben was cleaning them before putting them away, so I put my bin on the counter and started emptying the small dishwasher.
Colby followed me, standing on the other side of the bar. “Look. I’m serious. I’m interested.”
“For what? A hookup?”
He was silent.
Jesus. He was.
I looked up, glaring. “Are you serious? Cammie deserves more than th—”
I messed up. Bad. Terribly.
The second I looked up, recognition flared over his face and he took a step backwards. “Holy fuck! Dusty?” He was looking me up and down, taking in my blue hair. Shock was soon replaced with concern. His eyebrows pulled together, and his face softened. “You’ve lost weight.”
Shit.
Shit.
Shit!
Chapter Thirty-Six
Shiiiiit, Colby.
“Don’t say anything.”
His eyes flashed, and he shook his head, already backing away.
“Colby!” I started after him.
He held his hand up, his phone in it. “You know I can’t keep quiet about this.” He frowned, taking me in again, and regret flaring a second. “I’m sorry, but I’d want to know if it was my girl.”
With that, he was gone.
And I was so fucked.
He was probably making the call as he left.
I didn’t have long. I needed to get out of here as soon as possible.
I finished cleaning the rest that was left, then grabbed my phone. Ben was coming back right as I was heading for the door.
“Hey…” He trailed off, seeing me. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, but I gotta go.”
What was I doing, though? Really? No. I could go back to the Quail. Stone wouldn’t remember it. He’d only hear I was working here, not there. He might not follow me, and then I really stopped myself.
It didn’t matter.
Colby would call Stone, but nothing. Nothing would happen. He might come. He might get in my face. He might issue threats about me eating, or something, but that’d be it because in the long run, he left. I spoke the words, but he was the one who utilized it. He put it into action.
So, with that decision, I stayed. I helped clean up the rest, and it was much later on when I was heading back to the Quail. Ben took the last round of dishes with Cammie, and there’d been no room in the van. It was fine. I told them I would walk. I could do with the clear air, to be honest.
And in all that time, nothing happened.
Not one text. Not one call. Not one Stone showing up in the box.
It really was done.
I was just turning the corner for the road leading to the Quail when my phone started buzzing again.
Cammie: Dude! Colby Doubard is at the Quail! Oh. Are you coming? Joe’s pissed. We told him you were walking, but he doesn’t believe us.
Cammie: OMG! Colby Doubard just asked for my number.
Cammie: OMG OMG OMG! Colby Doubard just asked me out!!! He left already, but he asked me out!!!
Cammie: Shit. Double shitter let’s all take a dump together shitter. Kyle will be so pissed.
I scrolled through the rest.
Joe: Cammie arrived ten minutes ago. Where are you?
Ten seconds later,
Joe: If you have an emergency, I need to know what it is.
Two seconds later,
Joe: Just let me know if you’re okay.
Joe: Reeves called me. You’re good.
Stone.
My heart jumped up in my throat.
Whatever Stone was doing, he wasn’t here and he was leaving me alone. That’s probably all he was doing, knowing I needed time and that I’d be fine and he was just covering for me.
Still.
Should I text him?
No. I wouldn’t. It was better to leave it alone. And with that decision made, I had five hours of shift I could still cover.
I texted Joe.
Me: I’m almost there, just walking. I’m fine.
Five minutes later, I was coming up the back alley for the Quail. I could hear all the people in the front, the line extending past where I was coming up, and I was just to the back door when a hand grabbed my wrist.
“I don’t think so.”
I was pushed against the building.
My heart stopped. I’d like to say dread filled me or panic started, but that would’ve been a lie. The first thought and emotion that flashed through me was finally!
Finally, he came for me.
Finally, he sought me out.
Finally, he remembered me.
Finally, he cared.
But here was how messed up I was because while I wanted him to be here for me, and I knew he was, I knew he was only here because Colby called him. He was here to ‘check up on me.’ I could just imagine the phone call from his teammate. Stone wasn’t here because he had feelings for me, or at least the feelings I wanted for the long term or the feelings I needed from him to even have a fighting chance.
He was here because he cared, just not enough.
Be happy with what he’s showing you. That thought flashed in my head, too, and I wanted to give into it. I wanted it so badly that my teeth were aching, tears were coming to my eyes, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. I would not survive.
He was in my face, and my God, he felt amazing. His eyes were angry. His jaw clenched. His hand had a cement hold on my arm before he shifted, placing both his hands on either side of my face. “Got a call earlier.”
“I’m sure you did.” I was resigned. He was going to go through it all, and I was already folding. If he kept at this, I’d be in his bed by tonight. And I’d hate myself for it.
Weak.
He shifted closer, lowering his head so he was peering at me eye level. “Got a call saying that the girl with the blue hair, that I hadn’t looked at her close enough.” He touched my hair. “Apparently, none of us had looked at her hard enough, but why would we? Different hair. You’ve lost weight. More pale.” He skimmed me up and down, a sneer tugging at his lip. “What the fuck have you been doing
to yourself?”
Anger surged up and I smacked his hand away. I seethed, “You don’t get to stand there and judge me.”
His eyes flashed again. Hot. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I was in his face now because fuck him.
My body was craving him.
My heart was aching for him.
But my pride, yeah, that was raging. It was like in high school when he walked past me in the hallways because I wasn’t good enough for him. Seeing his parents, him, serving them, old fucking times.
“You don’t get the right to sit up on your high horse and judge me on the ground. You don’t get that right, Mr. I’m So Fucking Talented and I have the whole fucking world at my feet. Mr. My parents’ marriage might be a sham and unhappy, but we got a house and we got land and we got money to insure we never have to go cold or hungry. You don’t have that right because you might have shitty parents, but you still have paren—”
His lips were on mine.
God.
I folded. My knees dipped. My arms wrapped around him.
I gave in, for three seconds.
One. Two. Three. So fucking heavenly, and I could’ve died and felt satisfied with life, but it was just for three seconds and then reality set in and I shoved him back.
“Get off of me!”
He was right back, his hands in fists, hitting the building beside me. He snarled, “Why? Goddammit, tell me why. One fucking good reason!”
“Because you’re not the long game.”
He flinched, as if I’d slapped him.
And to hell with it. “Because I could fall in love with you, and I know that you don’t love me. You’ll never love me. I’m a body you think fondly of, and if you care anything about me, give me that much honesty.”
He turned his head, that jaw clenching over and over again. His hands were still in fists beside me, but he wouldn’t look at me.
That. Right there. That was the truth for me.
Every word I said was real. I didn’t have to play the guessing game anymore. I didn’t need to torment myself because it was all the truth.
I spoke another truth, one I needed from him. “Let me hate you.”
A second flinch. He sucked in his breath, and his eyes closed. His head reared back.
I had to hate him. Maybe it’s why I hated him all those years before, because I had to, because if I didn’t there was just the vast hole of his rejection.
A part of me was waiting for his response, and I hated that, too.
Hated that I still needed his acceptance, that I couldn’t just walk away.
I wanted his rejection.
I was praying for it.
I could muster the strength and keep going.
I needed his rejection, because then I could walk away, once and for all.
“I served your mom today.”
He tensed, but looked at me. A wall came down over his face.
My words were soft but chiding. He knew what was coming wasn’t going to be pleasant. It wasn’t going to be healing. Oh, no. He knew. He knew what was coming next would make him hate me. Oh, yes. We were going back there.
If he wasn’t all in, then he was all out, and I was going to fucking shove him all the way out.
I was going to make him hate me.
I was going to make us enemies, once and for all.
I pushed off from the wall, an inch between us, and I taunted him with my words, “You said you didn’t look hard enough, but she did.” I raised an eyebrow. “She looked me in the face. She looked me in the eye. She saw my hair, and guess what her reaction was? She was disgusted by me.”
He drew in a shuddering breath. His head lowered, his eyes were closing.
I was right there, right in his face. “I was beneath her. I was the dirt under her shoes, the dust on her expensive furniture, and you know what’s funny? I’m so used to it, that’s what I prefer now. I can’t remember when she tried to teach us to cook. I don’t remember that woman anymore.”
“Dust.” A low warning from him.
I didn’t care. My breath was on him. I knew it was and I was doing everything I could to make him snap. “That woman back then, she hadn’t been the waste of space that she’s become now. Does she even mother you? Is she proud of you? Does she see a trophy son? Are you the reason she stays in their pathetic marriage? Drinking. Driving drunk. Lying about it. That’s just the stuff she did to destroy my family, what’d she do to destroy yours?”
His hand flashed out, wrapping around the back of my neck. “Stop it.”
I laughed, knowing I had the upper hand. “I haven’t even started.”
I felt how cruel my smile was. Good.
I was going to torture him. I would haunt him. I would say the words that he only thought, but never wanted to hear out loud. I would give him that gift, and he would goddamn loathe me for it.
“She’s an alcoholic, Stone.”
“Shut up.”
“She hates her life.”
“I said to shut up.”
“She hates your father.”
He started to look away.
I grabbed his face, holding him in place, and I leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his mouth. “Do you wonder if she stays with him for his money? Or is it really just you? If he didn’t have the money, if you didn’t have the notoriety, would she leave?”
He was rigid and still and I could feel how his body was turning against me.
I kissed the other side of his mouth. “Do you wonder if she would’ve left you with him long ago if you guys were poor? If your family would’ve changed places with mine?”
“Jesus,” he grated out, starting to pull away.
I was on him, both my hands locked behind his neck. He couldn’t get away from me. I was a leech on him now. I was sucking the will from him and I was filling it with something toxic instead. I was infusing him with poison.
“What about your father?”
“Stop.” He reached behind him, took my hands, and thrust me off of him.
I hit the wall, and I felt alive. Maybe for the first time since being in his arms. I laughed, seeing the torment clouding his face.
I leaned forward, dropping my voice to a whisper. “Be honest. You got the call from Colby and what? You couldn’t leave because of your parents? I’m right, aren’t I? You were with them, catering to them, giving them the royal treatment, and you knew if you left to come for me, your mother would have questions. She’d want to know the answers, and I bet you anything that you couldn’t come to me at the stadium because Mother Dearest would’ve had a fit. And I bet you even more that she hates that you made your father pay for my schooling, that you made them both pay for my parents’ funeral costs, that they had to pay for all of that because your mother is one twisted sick piece of fu—”
His hand wrapped around the back of my head again, this time knotting in my hair, and he jerked me to him. “I would be very careful what you’re about to say to me. Very. careful.”
Good.
He was starting to hate me.
One more shove.
It was a boulder balancing on the edge of a cliff and I was going to knock that fucker completely off.
“Did you know that your dad gave me a ride home one night my senior year?”
I was lying. I didn’t care.
His body never loosened. It remained rigid and unmoving, but I felt his hand flex on the back of my head. His eyes were growing half wild, dilating, a panicked look edging in there. I knew it because I was putting it there, because it’s the same emotion I hadn’t stopped feeling since she got cancer.
“I was working at your parents’ supermarket and my car wouldn’t start. It was the beginning of November, so temps were bad. Mom was already in Hospice by then. We knew the house was going on the market for a short sale, so I didn’t want to bother my dad. But your dad saw me walking home and he pulled over.”
“Dusty,” he clipped out. He started shaking his head. �
�If this is a lie, I swear to God…”
I kept on as if he hadn’t said a word, “He offered me a ride. Insisted on it when I refused.” I pushed against him, my body rubbing over his and I felt him hardening. “Said he’d drive behind me the whole way if I didn’t get in the car, so I got in.”
His hand was holding the back of my head captive, but I had everything else in check. Drawing a hand down between us, I grazed over his cock, feeling it jerk against his jeans at my touch.
“You know when you meet someone and they want you? But you don’t want them? It’s plain as day to you. They might not say anything to you, but it’s in their eyes. They track you everywhere you go.”
A low curse word slipped from him.
I turned my hand around, fully cupping him and he grunted, but he didn’t move away. He didn’t release his hold on me either.
I leaned into his left ear and murmured, “That’s how your father was the whole ride home. He could barely watch the street. He kept looking at me, his eyes running the length of my body. He liked what he saw. He wanted what he saw. He wanted more than what he saw. He wanted to touch me. He wanted to taste me. I can’t help but wonder now, like father, like son?”
He yanked on my hair, whipping my head back. “You are such a bitch.”
I started to smile, my hand still cupping him, and I ran my thumb down the side of him, but his mouth covered mine. I surged up, my hand going to his jeans and I started to draw his zipper down. His tongue thrust in the same time my hand snaked inside his jeans, finding the opening of his boxers and I had him in the palm of my hand.
“Hey…oh!”
Bass ripped through the air as the back door of the Quail opened.
Joe stood there, taking us both in. “Uh. Sorry.” He started to close the door, but paused and grimacing, he looked back. “I need Dusty to come in and work. We’re slammed.”
I took a breath, my chest rising against Stone’s and falling as I released it.
Play time was over. Knowing it and feeling it, Stone moved his mouth to my ear, the one closest to where Joe was standing. He spoke in a normal sounding voice, “Take your hand off my dick.”