I closed the door and stalked toward her until she was pinned up against the banister. “Be careful, dollface. That gesture means something completely different to me.”
She rolled her green eyes as her chest rose and fell. “You’re an ass. And I’m not dollface.”
I lowered my head until our lips were a half-inch apart. “What would you like to be called, then?”
“Ew, your breath is disgusting.” She flattened her small hands against my bare chest and froze, staring at my pecs.
Not caring about my morning breath, I inhaled her lilac scent, which was doing crazy things to my body.
She worried her bottom lip. “Um. Can you step away?”
“Are you sure you want me to?” Because I want to fuck your brains out.
I didn’t know what in the hot Texas sun was happening. More memories of her on my lap bombarded me. This chick had some kind of juju that jumped off her and into me.
She finally ducked under my arm. “I need you to focus.” She wound her way down the hall and into the kitchen as though she owned the house. “You need a maid and a monstrous fan to blow out the stench in here.”
The only aroma I had in my nostrils was her.
I followed her as a door upstairs opened and closed. “I need a blow job.”
She snorted. “Ask one of the many women you sleep with.”
I didn’t recall her being so feisty when she was sitting on me. But I wasn’t complaining. I dug strong women. I also loved a challenge, and Red was throwing out challenge after challenge.
When she settled at the granite island, a squeaky voice behind me laughed. “He’s rather delicious.” Beverly, who I’d forgotten was there, waltzed in, wearing a pair of shorts that could’ve passed for a thong.
Crazy me envisioned both Beverly and Red in my bed. I shook off the images.
Red narrowed her eyes at Beverly. “You’re the girl I’m looking for.”
I swung my gaze between them. Maybe Red batted for the other team and was there to give Beverly a tongue-lashing for cheating on her.
Again, images of a threesome slapped me one way then the other.
“I’m into girls,” Beverly said. “But sadly, you’re not my type.”
There went that idea.
I started a pot of coffee, but maybe I should just get a beer—the hair of the dog and all.
Footsteps slapped on the floor as Lucas appeared in the doorway, wearing boxer briefs and not caring that two women were in the kitchen.
Both girls threw their attention to him. Their eyes widened, and their lips parted.
I chuckled. Lucas was a looker. As he stood there with sleepy eyes; wild, curly hair; and a bulge in his boxer briefs, I was sure the girls were clenching their thighs together.
I went about making coffee. Caffeine was as much a necessity as booze.
“What’s all this noise?” Lucas rubbed his eyes and farted.
I busted out laughing.
The girls scrunched their noses.
“It already stinks like a dumpster in here,” Red said. “Now your shit.”
“Have you never farted?” I asked innocently.
Red snarled at me.
Lucas came over to the sink. “What’s happening?” The whites around his brown eyes were red.
“No idea, dude. What day is it?”
“Saturday,” Beverly and Red said in unison.
I filled the coffeepot with water, sighing. Coach Chapman had given us the day off.
“Did you take pictures of me dry humping Ryker last night?” Red asked Beverly.
My hand froze on the faucet. If I hadn’t been coherent, I was now. “Pictures?” I didn’t do pictures.
Lucas took over making the coffee.
I ponied up to the granite island, my attention on Red. “Explain.” I shouldn’t have been so freaked out. I’d been getting drunk night after night since the cops showed up at my door to tell me that the small private jet my family had taken to Tahoe for the weekend had crashed. Since then, I hadn’t cared about much, except hoping I could drink myself into a coma and not wake up.
Red pursed her thick lips, looking darn cute. “Do you remember me grabbing your dick last night?”
I shivered. Oh, I was remembering a lot about the night before. She’d been the first girl since that fatal night to get my libido working again.
You got an erection with Beverly.
No. I woke up with morning wood.
You keep telling yourself that. Your dick is fine.
“Why would he remember you?” Beverly piped in. “He certainly remembers my mouth on his penis a few minutes ago, though.”
Lucas choked as he set the coffeepot on the machine.
“Are you saying someone took pictures of you sitting on me?” I asked Red. We hadn’t been naked and hadn’t done anything worthy of a headline that would get me in trouble with Coach Chapman.
The coffee machine began to gurgle before the caffeine aroma floated in the air.
Lucas sat on one of the stools next to me. “What’s all the fuss about? You guys didn’t do anything that was earth shattering.” He stabbed his thumb at me. “Now this guy ramming into a tree with his car while he was drunk? That’s something he needs to worry about.”
Lucas was right. But Coach Chapman might not see it that way.
I remembered the coach’s speech verbatim. “While you’re on this team, you’ll conduct yourself in a professional manner on and off the field. And I don’t want to see stupid shit in the media. The only headlines I want are winning games.”
“Dry humping,” as Red had put it, might not be considered stupid shit to Coach. But as long as the photo didn’t get into the hands of the media, I was good.
Then something occurred to me. “Why are you so concerned, Red?” Most girls I knew salivated to get a piece of me.
She whipped her head in my direction. “It’s Haven.”
That’s right. I preferred Heaven, though.
I raised my hands. “Chill.”
Her nostrils flared as she set her gaze on Beverly. “If you so much as take any more pictures of me or follow me, I will hunt you down and make sure you’re splattered all over the news.”
Lucas and I exchanged a wide-eyed look.
Beverly jabbed a red nail into Haven’s chest. “I didn’t take the picture.”
“You fit the description,” Haven fired back.
“So do eighty percent of the girls on campus,” Beverly said in a tone that could cut ice.
“Ladies,” Lucas said in a soft tone. He was always one to referee. “No need to fight.”
Haven clutched the strap of her purse like it was her lifeline. “My threat stands,” she said to Beverly. Then she stomped out of the kitchen.
I rushed to catch up with her. “Haven, you didn’t answer my question. Why are you so upset?”
She stuck out her chin. “You should be as upset as me. Your reputation was poor to begin with, but now you have no idea what you’re in for.”
The crease in between my brows was so deep, it hurt. With the exception of ramming into a tree on campus with my car, my reputation was great. I won games, and I got any chick I wanted. “What are you talking about?”
She glided out the front door and tossed a satisfied look over her shoulder. “Shape up, Ryker James, or the only championship you’ll be bringing home will be a token from your AA meetings.”
I stood in the doorway, dumbfounded, wanting to fire off a condescending remark, but the soft hands that came around my waist jolted me out of my stupor.
“Ryker, can we finish what we started?” Beverly asked.
I peeled her hands off me. “That ship has sailed.” I guided her out of the house. “See you around.” Then I closed the door, locked it, and went back into the kitchen.
Lucas was sipping coffee with a grin the size of Texas stretched across his face.
“What?” I poured coffee into a mug then sat down across from him.
&nbs
p; “I can see Haven has you all riled up, as in you want her,” Lucas said. “But dude, I would stay away from her.”
I chugged the strong black coffee. “My memory is returning from last night. You said you would tell me who she was when I was sober. Well, I’m listening.”
A phone rang. I searched the kitchen, as did Lucas.
“It’s your phone,” he said. “Mine is upstairs in my room.”
I found my phone on the desk beside the fridge and answered it. “Yeah.”
“You sober today?” Franklin, my lawyer, asked.
I sighed. “Well, you shouldn’t show up at midnight on Friday during a party.”
The fucker had wanted to talk business at midnight while I was drunk.
“If you made it to your appointments, I wouldn’t have to track you down,” he barked. “Get your ass in my office this afternoon.”
I was tempted to be a jerk and ask, “Or else what?” But the funeral was coming up, and emotions were delicate, even for Franklin. He and my old man had been best buds in college. So I knew he was hurting too even though he didn’t show it. Regardless, he wanted to discuss the ramifications of the tree accident, which was one of the reasons he’d shown up last night.
“I’ll be there in an hour,” I said then hung up.
Lucas put his cup in the sink. “Go. We’ll talk later.”
Darn straight we would.
4
Haven
I finally let out a huge breath as I got into my car. The house stunk like a landfill on steroids, but it wasn’t the stench or Ryker’s bad breath that had left me gasping for air.
I flicked the air conditioner on high and adjusted the vents toward my face and neck. Yep, I was sweating and not from the hot Texas sun beating in through my windshield. Ryker was a class-A jerk, and a large part of me got off on his vulgar mouth, even more so when my eyes had landed on his growing erection.
Oh my word. I fanned myself with my hand.
Maybe my father was right, and I should stay away from Ryker. Yet every fiber in me was drawn to his hot body, and it didn’t help that I was horny. It had been more than a year since I’d had sex.
I started the car and got on the road. I would’ve run back to campus like I had the night before and taken care of my libido, but Father Dearest had requested my presence at home that day. I’d asked him what he wanted, but he’d just replied, “We’ll discuss it when you get here.” Regardless, he didn’t like anyone to be late for his meetings. He’d been trained in the military to always arrive fifteen minutes early.
I checked the time on my dashboard, calculating how long it would take me to get home. My father had an expansive ranch forty-five minutes north of Lakemont University. Considering that it was Saturday and traffic would be minimal on the freeway, I had about five minutes to spare.
My phone rang, shutting down the radio and automatically connecting.
“Haven.” Vicki’s voice came through loud and clear. “How did it go?”
I slowed at a stop sign and saw the freeway sign looming up ahead. “Not sure. The chick who I suspect outed me was there.”
“Who is she?”
I pressed on the gas. “Crap. I didn’t get her name.” I’d been so focused on Ryker that I hadn’t even asked who she was.
“Is she his girlfriend?”
“He doesn’t have girlfriends.” At least that was the rumor, and if my father was right about Ryker sleeping around, then the blonde was just another conquest. “I guess I’ll have to ask Ryker.” Which meant another visit. Maybe my subconscious purposely hadn’t asked her name so I could see him again.
No way.
If I did return to his house, I would give the man what he wanted.
So what? You want him, and one time wouldn’t hurt him or you.
She snickered. “Damn the bad luck.” A beat of silence ticked. “Oh, wait. Come to think of it, he’s giving a talk at the sorority meeting on Wednesday.”
I zipped onto the freeway, merging with traffic.
Ryker didn’t strike me as a guy who gave speeches. “What about?”
“According to the resident assistant of our dorm, the football team does a fundraiser every year for a local charity. And they make the rounds to get the word out. So you definitely should come with.”
I might not be available if my father locks me up.
I hadn’t given Vicki an answer when she’d asked the night before, but now I really wanted to go, more out of curiosity and the fact that I could corner Ryker in public. I didn’t trust myself alone with him.
Watch it, missy. Someone could be snapping pictures of you and him again at the sorority event.
Well, I wouldn’t be sitting on his lap, and surely just talking to the man couldn’t piss off my father.
“Okay, I’m in.”
The sound of her clapping boomed through the speakers. “Great. Good luck with your dad today. I’ll be here if you need me.”
Despite the warm feeling flooding my chest at how Vicki and I were becoming good friends, I didn’t want to involve her in my personal dealings with my dad. No one needed to be subjected to my father and his scrutiny.
“I’ll see you later.” I hit the end button, and music filled the car. I sped down the highway, passing vehicles, listening to Jason Aldean. I had to clear my head before I got home. Or rather, I had to prepare myself for the meeting with my father, and God only knew what interaction I would have with my evil stepmom. I was sure she would have something to say about the picture of Ryker and me.
My mind drifted back to Ryker and the blonde who’d barely been dressed. Why didn’t I get her name? It was so unlike me. My father had taught me at a young age to know a person’s name because it was essential to know who I was dealing with.
Pfft. I’d failed big time on that lesson. The campus was big, but considering she was tied to Ryker, I could get more info on her. Besides, I could spot her in a crowd.
I eased up on the gas as I changed lanes and headed off the freeway. After another fifteen minutes, I was pulling into Hale Ranch. Father had had the name engraved prominently on a white wooden gate at the entrance.
I slowed to ten miles an hour, looking out at the horses grazing in the distance. One of my father’s hobbies had been racing horses. He’d given up the hobby when my mom died seven years ago. She’d loved horses and the race circuit. The Kentucky Derby had been one of her favorite times of the year.
I wheeled down and around the large fountain in the circular drive then came to a stop just past the front door. I wasn’t staying long. Otherwise, I would’ve parked in my normal spot in the back, where the ten-car garage was located.
I checked myself in the mirror to make sure I appeared put together. The last thing I wanted to hear from my stepmom was how bad I looked. Then again, I could be perfectly made up, hair in place, clothes pressed and crisp, and she would still drop some derogatory comment about how I dressed or that my makeup was too much or not enough.
Why are you trying to please her? That was a question I always asked myself. But I never had a good answer. Deep down, I wanted my father’s approval, and if she approved of me, then maybe my father would pay more attention to me or at least show me he cared. The word “love” wasn’t thrown around in my house, not from my dad anyway. My mom had always told me she loved me, but my father didn’t seem to have a loving bone in his body. I wasn’t sure if he even told his wife he loved her.
Marriage to him was a contract, although I remembered pieces of my childhood when my mom was alive, he’d doted on her. I hadn’t seen him show that kind of love to his current wife, although I’d been away at boarding school since I was thirteen.
I got out of the car with my purse in hand then rolled back my shoulders. Before I ascended the stairs to the portico, the front door opened.
Arlene Long Hale, former Miss Nevada, bleach blond hair, Botox lips, fake breasts, and a scowl that would scare away a puppy. “Haven.” Her voice was sweet and salty, he
avier on the salt. “So good to see you.”
Liar.
Be nice, Haven.
I swallowed all the cuss words streaming through my brain. “Arlene.” I brushed past her and into the foyer, which reminded me of the mansion in Gone with the Wind, my mom’s favorite movie. “Where’s my dad?”
Baxter, her white Maltese, came trotting in, wagging his tail.
I went to pet him, but Arlene snagged the dog as though I were about to poison her baby. “Your father is out back, finishing up lunch. Roya will bring you some food.”
“No, thanks. I’m not staying long.” I didn’t want to be there any longer than necessary.
I started for the veranda when she said, “Your father and I can’t have any distractions with elections around the corner.”
I stiffened, not turning to look at her. “Good to know I’m a distraction.”
Her heels clicked on the shiny, white tiled floor until she was facing me. “What you were doing in that photo was inappropriate for a young lady.”
And what I found my father doing behind your back was equally inappropriate. But I dared not voice that out loud unless my father pushed me to my limit. I might not out him to the press, but I had no problem hurting Arlene.
Keep walking.
My legs came unglued as I meandered through the house. My flats pounded on the floor as I passed the palatial rooms on both sides that faced the wall of windows overlooking a stone veranda.
My father read from his iPad with a glass of whiskey on the table. The French doors were open, allowing the hot summer breeze to flow in. My father preferred the heat and humidity to an air-conditioned space, which was odd since Arlene hated the Texas heat. But my father ruled with an iron fist, and as much as Arlene came off as a hardcore bitch, she didn’t go against my father. What he wanted, he got.
I kissed my father on the cheek, set my purse down on the granite tabletop, then eased into one of the thick-cushioned chairs beside him.
He studied me as he exchanged his iPad for the whiskey. “You look good.”
I arched an eyebrow, regarding my lookalike. We both had red hair, although my father’s color was brighter than mine. He also had more freckles sprinkled across his nose and cheeks than me.
Unforgettable Page 3