Tomorrow
OLLIE
DECEMBER
“I’ll do anythin’ you want, Olina.”
I hated my real name. Hated how prissy and formal it sounded.
I hated even more that it had come from my mom—not that she really even deserved to be called that—not when she was more concerned about her next fix than raising me.
My grandpa had called me Ollie for the few years I was with him before I went into foster care when he died.
Almost no one used my real name, let alone knew what it was, but I’d told him that first night we fucked.
One damn time.
The way he said my name now, though… The way it floated off his tongue like a seductive little secret, like a forbidden promise… I couldn’t bring myself to hate it so much.
What was it about this man that was so different?
His eyes bored into me, the golden flecks gobbling up the evergreen depths and making them look like molten gold. My skin burned where he held me, desire pummeling through my veins like a rogue wave.
Pressing up on tiptoe, I kissed him. Intensely. Passionately. Desperately.
I was desperate. For his touch, his kisses… everything about him.
What was worse, is I didn’t care.
I didn’t care that everything about Cash Mooney threatened to bring down the walls I’d built up around my heart. I didn’t care that I knew the come down from him was going to break me—because it would, I was sure of it now.
It didn’t matter. I wanted him. Here. Now. I wanted the high I got from being in his arms.
I might not be a drug addict like my mother had been, but I’d gotten her addictive tendencies.
I craved physical touch, but not just that.
I craved the feeling of being wanted, needed.
I craved the feeling of someone falling for me.
But when things became too much, too real, too terrifying, I’d run away, only to start the cycle all over again. In a new town, with a new person.
Except things felt real and different…and right.
It felt right being with Cash.
His hand on my chin slid to my throat, and in the next moment, he had me pinned to the wall, his grip firm but not painful.
The stucco bit into the bare flesh of my back, but I barely felt it.
A growl rumbled out of him before he pressed his mouth to mine—a clash of tongues and teeth.
He kissed me with a ferocity, an intensity, that I happily matched.
Pulling back only far enough to meet his gaze, my chest rose and fell in fast, shallow breaths. “I want you, Cash.” The words tumbled out of me of their own accord.
What the hell? I hadn’t even meant to say anything. But it wasn’t a lie. I’d wanted him all damn day. Since Tuesday night, when we’d been caught by his dad. Fuck, I wanted him for more than that. Maybe for always.
He stilled beneath my touch, a flurry of emotions flickering in his golden irises—some that I knew and felt all too well when it came to him. Lust, desire, need. But hanging in the depths was something new. Something I couldn’t quite place. “Then have me,” he said softly, “I’m all yours, sugar.”
The words struck something in me, taking my desire and multiplying it tenfold. My body reacted before my brain could even fully comprehend his words. On the surface, they seemed innocent enough. But that last sentence…it felt like a statement. A declaration… an oath.
It should have terrified me. It did on some level, but it also awakened a part of me I hadn’t even known existed.
My hands tangled in his hair, pushing his cowboy hat back off his head.
It clattered to the ground, but neither of us made any attempt to grab it.
Our mouths moved in tandem, our bodies crushed against one another.
He grabbed my ass with both of his hands, squeezing to the point that the most delicious pain pricked against my skin before sliding his palms up over the curve of my waist.
“You’re so fuckin’ sexy,” he murmured against my lips before trailing a path of kisses down my jaw.
I could say the same thing about him. Somehow, that god awful christmas sweater did nothing to hide his cut body, and the soft warmth of the white christmas lights made him look like he actually glowed. The perfect golden boy. And I wanted to ruin him.
Ruin him for any other woman after me.
That had to be the lingering alcohol from the pregame shots in my veins talking. Why the hell was I thinking about the future? Why did I want him pining over me after I was gone? I wouldn’t stay here forever.
That was getting more and more hollow each time I thought about it.
What if I let him in? What if I let him tear down my walls? What if I stayed?
His mustache tickled against the sensitive skin of my neck. His only response a hum that reverberated through me, followed by the feel of one of his hands slipping beneath the fabric of my dress.
“Cash,” I whispered, my head falling back against the wall. Every inch of me burned.
“You want this, sugar?” he asked, his fingers brushing against my lacy underwear. Fuck, I wished I’d forgone those right now. My legs nearly gave out, suddenly having turned to jello.
I sure as hell wanted this. Wanted him.
I opened my mouth to respond the minute the door swung inward, a blast of warm light and loud music greeting us.
“There the fuck you ar—oh, um…sorry. I, um…” Maverick kept his bashful gaze downcast, ever respectful, as always, fumbling to find words.
“We’re gonna play, uh, cornhole. Wanted the, uh, birthday boy to go first.” He stumbled and rushed through his words, and I suspected that if he wasn’t half cast in shadow, his cheeks would be crimson.
Cash pulled away from me and I situated my dress, my heart thundering in my chest like a crazy storm.
Oh my God, I’d completely forgotten about the party.
Completely forgotten there were other people here, for that matter.
We’d almost hooked up on his porch, during his party.
Had Maverick not come out, I’m not sure how far we’d have gone.
I recovered quicker than Cash, who stood there completely at a loss for words—not an easy feat for him. Crouching down, I grabbed his tan cowboy hat and placed it atop his head before patting his chest twice. “To be continued,” I murmured as I brushed a feather-soft kiss to his lips.
He groaned as I walked away, but I didn’t turn back around. Not as I grinned at Maverick and breezed past him. Not as I made my way through his house. When I had Cash tonight—and I would—I wanted him on his knees and begging.
As the night went on, the reality of what happened on the front porch finally began to sink in, along with the fear that I’d been so content on ignoring in the moment.
I was falling for him.
Ha, understatement of the century. I hadn’t fallen, I’d leaped off the damn cliff. I’d flown too close to the sun and now I was fucked.
The familiar urge to run coiled tight in my belly for the umpteenth time tonight. But every time I tried to act on that urge…I couldn’t do it.
The first time, when we were partners in the gingerbread house contest and lost miserably, I’d only gotten a few feet away from him before he pulled me back into his arms and kissed me in front of all of his friends.
Something that friends like he and I were supposed to be, definitely didn’t do.
The second time, I’d gotten to the living room when he’d found me and slow-danced with me to Christmas carols before the twinkling Christmas tree.
The third time—this time—I made sure to sneak out when he was busy playing beer pong.
I had to go. I know he said that nothing had to change, but that was a lie.
Things were changing. The looks, the touches, the kisses…
they were longer, heavier, more intense.
And if I didn’t leave now, I might not ever.
What started out as fun and simple had turned to complicated and messy. I hated complicated. This was exactly why I hated relationships, feelings. I hated getting attached.
God, I was such a broken record. Even I was shitfull of this stupid argument…but it was ingrained in me. Second nature. I didn’t know how to just…stop being me.
I grabbed my phone out of my bra and pulled up my app to get an Uber. If I could get home without anyone seeing me, I could grab my things and leave before the others got back—I hadn’t fully unpacked since my last attempt to leave. Where I’d go, I didn’t know, but I’d figure it out.
Guilt panged in my chest as I thought of Quinn and Hux.
They’d done so much for me. Shown me so much kindness.
They’d taken a chance on me, believed in me.
Then there was Walker. God, I’d miss her and her delicious cooking.
I’d miss the ranch boys and Whit too. And Bad, Ryder, and Maverick.
My mind began to drift to a certain hazel-eyed cowboy.
Don’t. Don’t start. Wishing for an ending that just couldn’t be would only hurt my heart more.
“I was wonderin’ when you’d leave.”
My walls went up, a wave of defensiveness surging to life as I whirled to face the owner of that soft, southern voice.
Cheyenne stood just at the edge of the stone walkway leading up to the house, her turquoise eyes shining with judgement.
I wouldn’t say that she didn’t like me, she was nice enough when I came around, but I always got the feeling she didn’t trust me.
I didn’t blame her. I wouldn’t trust me either.
“What are you doing here?” I couldn’t help but snap back, crossing my arms over my chest.
“I was gonna call Violet and check on the kids.” She took a few steps forward, her cowboy boots scuffing against the concrete. “I’m guessin’ you were tryin’ to get a ride out of here.”
My gaze narrowed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She huffed, her hands coming to rest on her hips. “Sure, you don’t. You’ve been lookin’ for an opportunity to run all night.”
“It’s cute that you think you know what I’m thinking.” I shouldn’t be so defensive, so hostile, but I hated when people tried to butt into my business. I hated even more that she saw right through me.