Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
brOCK
I walk out of the bar; my whole body feels like it’s being lit on fire. The back of my neck feels like you’ve stuck a million needles in it and have drained all of the blood out. I walk toward the shop, forcing my feet to go one in front of the other instead of turning around and going back into the bar.
When I walked out of the shop ten minutes ago, I was on my way to the truck when I decided to go and get a quick drink. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I would find her sitting on a stool next to Charlie. I ignored her like she didn’t even exist. Like she wasn’t sitting two feet away, and I could smell her perfume wafting through the air. My cock woke up as if he’s been in hibernation for the winter, while my heart feels like it started working again after being stuck on pause. I hate that she has this effect on me. I hate that I still let her get to me. In the past eight years, I haven’t allowed myself to admit how much I missed her because I knew if I did, it would be so overwhelming that I would be buried in the feeling, and I had Saige to think about. It wasn’t just me anymore. I had to be strong for my daughter. But now I admit how much I fucking miss her. The ache is so sharp it’s like a knife slicing into my heart and slowly being pulled out.
Slamming the truck door behind me harder than I should, the anger from letting her get to me pours over. I pull out, my eyes going to the road in front of me until the end of the street. Instead of turning right and going home, I make a left twice and then park my truck off to the side before getting out.
As I walk toward the creek, I can hear the water trickling down to the rocks toward the stream. The sound is supposed to be relaxing, but it makes me even angrier after what just happened. Why I even came here is beyond me, I wonder as I walk down to the small clearing hidden behind dense trees.
The minute I do, the memory comes back as if it’s finally being let out of the vault.
“The water is cold, baby,” I said from the blanket where I was lying down on my side, my feet crossed at the ankles as I watched her roll up her jeans and step into the little stream, “and some of the rocks might be slimy.”
“I’ll be fine,” she replied, looking over her shoulder as she stepped into it. The moonlight bounced off the top of the water as I watched her. “Fuck, it’s like ice,” she hissed as she took another step.
“Baby.” I finally sat up with my feet on the cover, the picnic basket beside me. I placed my elbows on my knees, watching her round ass take another step. “You are going to be cold for the rest of the night.”
She turned around with her ankles in the water. “Would you stop bothering me?” she retorted. With a twinkle in her eye, she lifted one leg and flicked water on me. The drops landed on me like big drops of rain. “See, it’s not that cold.”
“Don’t you dare,” I told her. She lifted her foot and splashed me again. “Someone is looking for a fight.”
“Who, me?” she asked innocently, yet there was nothing innocent about Everleigh. We had been dating for about a year, and I knew her inside and out. I knew her better than she probably knew herself. She had consumed me, body and fucking soul.
“Yeah, you.” I nodded my head and got up to stand on the blanket before I took two steps toward her. “Only you, Everleigh,” I said softly, watching her walk in the water for a bit before she finally gave up and walked out toward me.
She stood there in front of me, and my hands came up to hold the side of her neck. “I love you, baby.” The words just came out without giving me a chance to stop them.
Her face went from shock to a smile. “Is that so?” she quizzed as she stepped closer to me, putting her hands on my hips. “Took you long enough.”
I chuckled. “Is that so?” I used her words against her. “I didn’t see you dying to profess your love for me.”
“I know how macho you are”—she tried not to laugh but failed—“and big and strong. How are you going to tell everyone else I said I loved you first?” she taunted, and she only stopped talking when I slammed my mouth down on hers.
The memory kicks me in the stomach, and I have to put my hand out to stop myself from falling to my knees. The cold bark on my fingers stings as I try to steady my breathing, feeling as if I just ran here from my house instead of driving here.
The sound of twigs breaking makes me look to the side, and I think my eyes are playing tricks on me. I blink a couple of times to make sure I’m not dreaming, or I’m having another memory I don’t want to have. Her head is down as she walks through the trees right to me. I push off from the tree and turn to face her.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I hiss, scaring her because she stops in her tracks, looking up at me. One of her hands goes to the middle of her chest, the other to her stomach as she looks up at me.
“Brock.” The minute she says my name, it’s as if she puts her hand into my chest and rips my heart out, squeezing it in the palm of her hand until the blood seeps out of her fingers, and the heart stops beating in her hand, rendering it useless.
“Don’t say my fucking name,” I hiss at her. She takes a step back, and I see her shoulders get tight, and I know she’s going to come back and fight with me.
“Trust me, I don’t want to say your fucking name,” she snaps and continues her steps toward the creek. “If I never say your name again for the rest of my life, I’ll be happy.”
“I bet you fucking will.” I stand here as she comes toe to toe with me. I can smell her perfume lingering in the air. My fingers beside my leg start to tingle to come up and touch her. “Surprised you remember this place.”
“Yeah”—she folds her arms over her chest, pushing up her tits even more—“and why the fuck is that?”
“I thought you would have forgotten this place,” I bark, “just like you forgot me.” I hate myself for saying the words, but they come out so fast I can’t take them back.
“Funny coming from you,” she says. “I wasn’t the one who forgot about the other person. You sure as fuck forgot about me the minute I left town.” She unfolds her hand and points it at me. “I was just a fucking memory to you.” She leans into me, and I move back so she’s not too close. “Since you were wearing someone else’s ring less than two months after I fucking left.” Her words feel like they’re pulled from the depths of her soul. The hurt there is so evident, but she doesn’t let her guard down. “So don’t fucking pretend my leaving hurt you.”
“Way I remember it, you left me. Cut me off.” The venom in my tone isn’t falling on deaf ears. Her eyes go to slits.
“Of course, you would remember it that way.” She shakes her head and turns to leave, when my hand comes out and grasps her wrist. The heat warms the coldness that’s been in my bones since she walked away from me. I yank her to me, her other palm flat against my chest.
We stare at each other for a full minute before it happens. I don’t know if I’m the one who bends my head or she lifts on her tippy-toes, but our mouths meet, and the kiss is as angry as it could ever be. Our tongues touch for a second before she bites my lower lip. My hand drops her wrist, and I wrap it around her waist and pull her to me. Lifting her off her feet, I turn her back to the tree. “I wish I never saw your face again.” Our noses are touching, and again, it’s that tug-of-war.
Her mouth opens at the same time my tongue slides in. My eyes close, and it’s as if I’ve reached euphoria. It’s better than any high I’ve ever had. It’s better than any buzz I’ve ever had. It’s fucking heaven and hell all at the same time. I hate she still has this effect on me. I turn my head to the side, the kiss not gentle at all. Instead, it’s a kiss filled with rage and anger. I push her deeper into the tree, her hands gripping my shirt in her fingers, pushing it up before scoring me with her nails all the way down my chest. The sting of it goes straight to my cock, which is pushed deeper into her. She lifts her leg to hook over my hip as I push my cock into her even more, and I swallow her moan. My hand goes to her leg, around my hip, finding it bare. The softness from it makes me move my hand up her leg until my hand is cupping her bare ass. I squeeze my hand so hard, I’m sure she’ll have my fingerprints as a bruise, but I don’t fucking care. Let her have it, let her fucking be reminded of me every single fucking day. Just like I’m sure to have the taste of her on my tongue. The more I kiss her, the more I can admit I missed her. The more I admit that, the angrier the kiss gets. “I hate you.” She leans her head back on the tree, her fingers gripping my sides so hard her nails are cutting into my skin.
“Yeah.” I press deeper into her. “I don’t think you hate me more than I hate you,” I hiss at her. “I hate you to the depth of my soul.”
“I hate that I loved you for as long as I did.” The pain of her words makes my head feel like it’s exploded. “I hate I loved you at all,” she repeats the words in a whisper. “I will always hate you.”
“Good. So you’ll still hate me after tonight.”
“I’ll hate you for the rest of my life.” That is the last thing she says before I cover the gasp that comes out of her mouth with mine. Her legs wrap around my hips as she pushes herself into me. It’s my turn to moan as her hands move to the waist of my jeans. Her hands are frantic on the button while my hand moves from her ass around to her hip, moving her thong to the side, the smoothness of her like satin under my fingertips. I let go of her mouth so I can open my eyes and watch her face. Her eyes flutter open, and our pants drown out the sound of crickets. Our eyes look at each other as I slide my fingers into her. Her wetness and heat make me almost come in my fucking pants. Her eyes flutter closed as she puts her leg down and opens them even more.
I was wrong before. This, this right here might be my very own kryptonite. Her hands unbutton my jeans and then the zipper echoes in the darkness. “This changes nothing,” she declares when she pushes the jeans and the boxers off my hips, my cock springing free. Her hand grips my cock, and I about hiss and come in her hand. I thrust my hips into her hands, feeling her softness on me.
“This changes nothing,” I repeat the words with tightness in my stomach, moving her skirt up to her waist and then sliding my fingers out of her. “It might make me hate you more,” I admit to her, picking her leg up and throwing it over my arm. “Or at least I fucking hope it will,” I growl right before I bend my knees and slam into her.