Careless (An Enemies To Lovers Novel Book 3)

by Michelle Horst

  Me: That’s where you’re wrong, Princess. Hate-fucking is so much better. There’s no need to worry about feelings getting hurt. We both get off and go our happy ways.

  Leigh: P' = P (1 + r/n) nt

  What the fuck? I don’t know if it’s a turn-on or if I’m irritated that she’s trying to beat me with her intelligence.

  Me: I’ll bite. Enlighten me, Doc.

  Leigh: P is the original principal sum (You). P' is the new principal sum (Me). r is the chances of us ever getting naked together. n is the compounding frequency at which you infuriate me. t is the overall length of time it’s taken for you to ensure we’ll never be friends. The answer resulting in me blocking your number.

  Before I can reply she blocks me. I drop the phone to the bed and start to laugh. Fuck she’s hot when she gets angry which only makes me more determined.

  I close my eyes, and it doesn’t take much of my imagination to picture her naked. I’m not a breast guy, but I bet her breasts will fit perfectly in my mouth. I want to bend her over the bed so I can watch as her ass turns red from my body slamming against hers as my cock sinks deep into her pussy. Fuck, I want to sink balls deep into her.

  I shove my shorts down and fist my cock. There’s already pre-cum gathering on the head, and it won’t take much for me to explode.

  I picture her flushed cheeks and her ass grinding back against me as she comes on my cock. Her wearing the glasses and looking at me from over her shoulder as I ride her ass.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  My cock jerks in my fist and hot cum shoots over my abdomen as a powerful orgasm surges up my balls and into my cock.

  When the last of the orgasm trickles away, I still have a clear image of her in my head. I take a quick shower before getting back into bed.

  Just before I drift off to sleep, a strange emotion swells inside my chest.

  I like Leigh Baxter.

  ∞∞∞

  LEIGH

  I sip my coffee as I stare blankly at the counter where Jaxson had me cornered yesterday.

  I should be upset with him for the things he said, but instead, I can’t stop thinking about it. I’ve never had such a strong physical reaction to a man. I keep picturing his mouth and hands on me which has my body burning with a need only he can take care of.

  It’s not like I’m waiting for Mr. Right to come along. Maybe…

  The only reason I’m still a virgin is that I’ve been working hard. There was no time to date, or even for a one night stand.

  But… there’s time now.

  I sigh, wishing I could figure out Jaxson the same way I’d figure out an equation.

  While Willow’s at classes, I spend the morning researching transplantation assist devices and robotic surgery.

  For lunch, I warm up some leftover pizza. After I finish eating, I decide to take a bath. I’m glad the headache is gone. That’s the last time I try to wear contacts.

  I pour myself a bubble bath, and when I sink down into the water, I let out a relaxing sigh. I lean my head back against the tiled wall and close my eyes, allowing the jasmine aroma to chase away the last of the tension.

  Once my skin shrivels up like a prune, I let the water drain out and dry myself. I take my time rubbing lotion over my body and get dressed in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. I skip the bra seeing as I’m not going anywhere.

  Evie gets home first, and honestly, I’m just happy I’m not alone anymore.

  “How were classes today?” I ask as I sit down on the couch.

  Evie plops down beside me. “Exhausting. I don’t know how you can study all day long.”

  “It’s different for me.”

  “Don’t you want to write my exams for me?” She makes a cute face which has me laughing. “I’ll pay you with massages.”

  I let out a burst of laughter. “Wouldn’t that be awesome? It would be a win for both of us. I get to keep busy, and you can relax.”

  “If only dreams would come true,” she says as she gives me a warm smile.

  “I’m thinking of going home. Maybe I can convince my parents to let me sit in on surgeries as an observer.”

  “You don’t have an off switch, do you?”

  I smile at her. “No. I’m bored out of my mind. I need to keep busy.”

  Evie gets up. “I’m going to shower. Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. Willow said she’s going out with Marcus so she’ll be late tonight. Her battery died so she couldn’t message you. I’m going to meet Rhett, Carter, and Logan for a drink if you want to join us.”

  With my luck, Jaxson will be there.

  “No thanks, I’ll watch a movie until Willow gets back.”

  “You have my number if you change your mind.”

  “Thanks, Evie.”

  I grab the remote for the TV and channel surf until Evie comes out of her room. She’s dressed in a tight shirt and flowing skirt which reaches all the way to her sandals.

  “You look pretty.”

  “Thanks. You sure you don’t want to come?” she asks again.

  “I’m sure.” I stretch out on the couch, making myself comfortable. “Have fun.”

  I flick through the channels until a documentary about unexplained deaths catches my attention.

  I must have dozed off because I’m woken by my phone vibrating on the coffee table as the shrill ringtone echoes through the apartment.

  I press the phone to my ear as I push strands of hair away from my face. I glance around the living room to see if there’s anything lying around that I can use to tie my hair.

  “Hello.” Sounding groggy, I clear my throat.

  “Leigh, it’s Dad.”

  “Hey, Dad. I was going to call you tomorrow.”

  I rub my eyes and suppress a yawn. Who knew doing nothing all day long could be so tiring.

  “You have to come home, sweetheart.”

  Relief washes over me. Thank God for answered prayers. Now I just have to convince them to allow me to sit in on their surgeries. They shouldn’t have a problem with it, seeing as I’ll be in the gallery.

  “That’s why I was going to call. I’m bored out of my mind. Do you think I can sit in on your surgeries as an observer? I promise I won’t get in the way.”

  A shuddering breath from Dad fills my ears. He must’ve had a long day.

  “Dad? Is everything okay?”

  “Sweetheart… it’s your mom. She had an accident.”

  I dart up from the couch as my hand flies to my mouth in shock. Worry for Mom pours through my body and settles like a rock in the pit of my stomach.

  “Is she okay? What kind of accident? How bad are her injuries? Was she taken to a hospital?” I look at the time and see that it’s already past nine pm. “I can try to get a flight out tonight still.”

  “Leigh, I want you to listen to me. I’ll book a flight for you for first thing in the morning. Stay with Willow until I collect you from the apartment.”

  “I don’t mind coming home tonight. I want to be there for Mom.”

  “She didn’t make it, sweetheart,” he rasps as his breaths falter.

  I frown, and the words don’t sink in. For the first time in my life, I can’t get my mind to understand what he’s trying to say.

  “What do you mean? She didn’t make it to the hospital yet? Are they still on route?”

  Icy fingers claw their way into my chest and grip my heart as the seconds slowly creep by. My worry morphs into panic and fear when Dad takes too long to respond.

  “Leigh, she didn’t…” His words trail away as a sob bursts from him.

  I close my eyes as a cold sensation spreads over my body until it feels as if my whole body has been submerged in ice. Pins and needles creep over my skull as the realization slams into my gut.

  “Say it, Dad,” I croak.

  My throat closes up, and I gasp like a fish as I try to force air into my lungs.

  “You have to say it. You told me it’s the first thing they taught you. You have to say the words.�
��

  A grief-stricken sound fills my ear, and it robs me of the precious air in my lungs. My chest tightens as if my ribs are trying to form a cocoon of safety around my heart, to protect it from the fateful blow that’s coming.

  “Your mom’s dead, Leigh,” he brokenly forces the words out.

  I close my eyes as I listen to Dad’s anguished cries.

  My eyes remain dry as the inevitability of what Dad just told me engulfs my mind. The shock is still too fresh. It hasn’t hit me fully yet.

  Shock and denial. Pain and guilt. Anger and bargaining. Depression. Acceptance.

  I repeat the stages of grief over and over.

  My mind stops at shock. Shock hits first before denial strikes. Shock. My mind races to retrieve everything I know about shock.

  Inability to move.

  I blink and place my free hand over my stomach.

  General pains.

  My stomach is aching. It’s a weird sensation and one I haven’t felt before. It feels like I’ve swallowed burning logs.

  I keep working through the facts as I try to keep my mind focused on substantiated data.

  Feelings of heaviness.

  That explains why I can’t make my body move faster. It feels as if time is suspended while I’m touching a live wire.

  Dad clears his throat. “Please stay with Willow. I don’t want you traveling tonight, not while you’re in shock. I’ll fly to North Carolina and meet you at the apartment. I’ll bring you home, sweetheart. Can you do that for me? Can you wait until morning?”

  “I’ll wait, Daddy,” I whisper, knowing it’s what he needs to hear. “I’ll wait here for you.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I wish I could come through right now. I need to…”

  “I understand, Daddy. You need to process your own shock. I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll be okay.” I look around the empty apartment as I lie, “Willow is here with me. I’m not alone.”

  After we’ve said goodbye, I dial Willow’s number. I need her to come home.

  When it goes straight to her answering machine, I end the call.

  I close my eyes as a devastating wave of hopeless anguish hits me.

  I need to scream, or cry. I need to let the acute agony and shock out, but I don’t know how.

  I start to pace while shoving my hands into my hair.

  Keep moving.

  “Myocarditis,” I whisper as I start to recite facts. “Inflammatory disease… ”

  I grab fistfuls of my hair as a scream builds in my throat, but no sound comes out, only a gasp of air.

  “Process it,” I whimper. “Understand what has happened.”

  Birth and death is the natural order of life.

  Death.

  Dead.

  Mom’s dead.

  My mother is dead.

  “Oh God.” I start to gasp for air as my stomach drops, leaving my heart to free-fall until it shatters at my feet.

  I need Willow. Evie said she’s with Marcus. She must be at the guys’ house. If she isn’t then maybe one of the guys can call Marcus and ask him to bring her home for me.

  I run from the apartment as I dial her number again, praying she’ll answer. I keep reaching her voicemail, and I only stop trying when I reach the house.

  Chapter 4

  JAXSON

  I know Logan talks to Mom. Just because I don’t want anything to do with her, I don’t expect him to not have contact with her. I hate that she asks him to give messages to me.

  As he ends the call, I know what’s coming.

  “Mom sends her love. She says she misses you.”

  My eyes snap to Logan. “Do you actually believe that shit?”

  Logan shoves his phone into the back pocket of his jeans, avoiding eye contact with me.

  “I think she cares,” he says.

  “Look at me and then repeat the lie,” I grind the words out.

  His eyes meet mine, and I hate that they’re filled with sadness.

  “I really believe she cares. She’ll come back.”

  I bite my bottom lip so I don’t say anything else that will upset Logan. It’s not his fault. He doesn’t know her the way I do.

  “Are you going out?” I ask, changing the subject.

  “Yeah, I’m already late. I’m meeting Rhett and Carter for a drink. You want to come?”

  “Nah, I’m just going to hang at home.”

  Opening the front door, Logan glances at me from over his shoulder.

  “I love you, Jaxson. Not because you’re my brother, but because you always look out for me. I know what Mom did. I know you protected Marcus and me. You have a right to hate her, and I’m sorry that I can’t.”

  She doesn’t deserve Logan’s love.

  “I love you, Logan. Don’t worry about that shit. What she did is between her and me.”

  He gives me a chin lift and shuts the door behind him.

  The moment I hear his car pull out of the driveway, I throw the bottle of beer I’ve been nursing. It crashes against the wall, and I watch the liquid trickle down the white paint.

  “I fucking hate you, Judy West,” I growl.

  I’m glad I’m alone at home as wave after wave of anger, wash over me. I drop to the floor and start to do sit-ups. Exercising is the only way I can calm down.

  I’m busy with push-ups when someone bangs on the door.

  “I’m coming,” I shout as the incessant hammering continues. Yanking the door open, I snap, “You don’t have to fucking break it.”

  “Willow,” Leigh forces the word out as if her throat is closing up, which immediately grabs my attention.

  Her face is ghostly pale, and she’s shivering as if she’s freezing, while it’s hot as hell tonight. I glance at the rest of her body to see if she’s hurt anywhere, and that’s when I notice she’s barefoot.

  “Willow,” she croaks.

  “She’s not here,” I say.

  I reach out to her and taking hold of her arm, I pull her inside. I shut the door and take hold of her shoulders so I can make sure she’s okay. I can feel her trembling under my hands which makes worry fuse with the anger still burning in my chest.

  “What happened?” I’m not even going to ask if she’s okay. It’s pretty clear she’s upset.

  I swallow my own rampant emotions which isn’t an easy thing to do.

  Leigh looks dazed as she stares impassively at my chest.

  “Uhm… Marcus,” she whispers. “Can you call Marcus and ask him to bring her home?”

  “Sure,” I say.

  She shakes her head, and a devastated look crosses her features.

  “Leigh,” I whisper, leaning in as I try to catch her eyes. “What happened? Is it something I can help with?”

  She shakes her head again and turns away from me. When she reaches for the door, I move fast and grab hold of her hand.

  “Where are you going?”

  “The apartment. I’ll wait there for Willow.”

  I hate the hollow sound in her voice. There’s no way I’m letting her walk back to the apartment with the state she’s in.

  Wanting her nowhere near the front door, I pull her into the living room. I frame her face with my hands, forcing her to look at me.

  “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  Her breathing hitches and she grabs hold of my wrists.

  “She had an accident,” she groans, and it sounds so painful, I feel it in my gut.

  “Who?” I ask, immediately worried about Evie and Della.

  She moves slowly as if it’s too much effort to even talk. She looks up at me, her eyes filled with devastation. It makes them look bruised, as if someone has crushed her spirit. I move closer to her, wanting to fix whatever’s wrong.

  Her nails dig into my skin and her face crumbles.

  “She’s dead, Jaxson,” she cries. The words rip through me like a hurricane.

  “Who, Doc? Who’s dead?”

  I dread hearing her say that it’s Evie or Della.

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nbsp; “My mom.” Her breathing comes in bursts as the shock hits her again. “Mom’s dead,” she groans, and her body convulses from the hurt tearing through her.

  This is the first time since Marcus that I can actually feel someone else’s pain. I felt sorry for Rhett and Mia. With Marcus, and now with Leigh, I can feel what’s happening to them.

  I feel the blow of the words as if someone punched me. I feel the hopelessness knowing there’s nothing I can do to ease her pain.

  My heart breaks under the heavy weight of her grief.

  “Fuck, Doc,” I breathe the words past the pain. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

  I pull her into my arms and press her face against my chest. I hold her tightly, wishing there was a way I could take this pain from her.

  “Jaxson,” she gasps as her hands clutch my sides. “My mom died. She’s gone, and there’s nothing I can do to bring her back.”

  I hold her tighter, pressing my lips to her hair. She must’ve just found out. She’s bouncing between shock and the horrible reality of what happened.

  “I’m sorry, Doc,” I whisper. There’s nothing else I can say that will make this any easier for her.

  For minutes her gasps of sorrow fill the air. She wraps her arms around me as another wave hits her.

  “I can’t cry,” she whispers. “I wish I could cry. It’s stuck inside of me. I feel sick.”

  Fuck, this is killing me.

  I pull back so I can frame her face again. Not knowing what to say, I press a kiss to her forehead. A raw sob escapes her lips, which makes me kiss her cheek. I rain kisses down all over her face, trying to give her some of my strength.

  This is easily one of the worst nights of my life. I’ve never felt so helpless before.

  “You were right,” she breathes. “Feelings hurt.” She grabs fistfuls of my shirt as a silent cry rips through her. She gasps for air, and I worry that she’s going to start hyperventilating.

  “It hurts.” She slams a fist against her chest as if she’s trying to ease the pressure building inside of her.

  “Jaxson,” she gasps my name.

  I can’t fucking handle seeing her like this. I slip one arm under her knees, and the other behind her back, lifting her up against my chest. I rush up the stairs to my room, and as soon as I kick the bedroom door shut behind us, I let her legs drop to the floor as my mouth crashes against hers.