17. Chapter 17
Chapter 17
F ive seconds later, a husky voice cut through Isaac’s thoughts.
“Got another one?”
He turned, half-annoyed, half-disinterested, to find a tall, hot blonde smirking at him.
She had that coastal San Diego look—tanned, toned, wearing something tiny and tight, like she knew exactly what effect she had on men.
Isaac exhaled smoke, flicking his lighter open. “Yeah, sure.”
She plucked it from his fingers, leaning in for the light. “You look like you could use a distraction.”
Isaac was about to answer—was about to give some lazy, flirty, bullshit response—
But then—
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
Rosie.
Isaac turned to see her storming out of the bar, hair falling out of her ponytail, cheeks flushed, eyes flashing.
Oh, she was pissed.
The blonde exhaled, clearly assessing the situation.
“Well,” she said, stepping back with a smirk. “Good luck with that.”
She walked off, heels clicking on the pavement.
Isaac flicked his half-smoked cigarette to the ground, watching Rosie with raised brows.
“You done?” he asked.
She scoffed, crossing her arms. “You are such a dick.”
He smirked. “Yeah, and?”
Rosie’s nostrils flared, her frustration spilling over.
Isaac let out a slow breath. “Come on, let’s go.”
“Fuck no.”
He rubbed his temple. “Rosie—”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
Isaac groaned, shoving a hand through his hair. “Your shit’s at my place.”
She shrugged. “So?”
Jesus Christ.
She was so fucking stubborn.
She wobbled on her heels, and he gritted his teeth, reaching for his phone.
“Alright, I’m done. You’re drunk. I’m getting you a cab.”
She glared. “You can’t make me get in it.”
Isaac sighed, raising a hand for the next available cab.
When it rolled up, he grabbed the door, swung it open, and turned to her.
“Rosie.”
She folded her arms. “No.”
He exhaled.
Then, with zero hesitation, he grabbed her by the waist, lifted her right the fuck up, and shoved her inside.
“Isaac!” she screeched, scrambling, glaring, but too damn drunk to fight him off properly.
He smirked, leaned in, buckled her seatbelt.
Then, just as she slapped him, Chris and Shay stumbled out of the bar just in time to catch the scene.
Chris laughed so hard he nearly choked. “Holy fuck. Did you just kidnap her?”
Isaac flipped him off and got into the cab behind her, shutting the door, giving the cab his home address.
Isaac slammed the cab door shut, exhaling hard, his pulse still racing from shoving Rosie inside like a drunk, angry little tornado.
The cab pulled away from the curb, the city lights gliding past the window, the hum of tires over pavement filling the silence.
Isaac looked over.
Rosie was fuming.
Absolutely seething.
Her arms were crossed so tight it looked painful, her jaw clenched, her gaze locked on the window like she was plotting her revenge.
Isaac smirked, poking her thigh.
“Hey. Hey, Coco.”
She didn’t move.
He poked her again. “Still mad?”
She turned her glare on him so fast it was a miracle he didn’t drop dead on the spot.
“I’m going to jump out of this fucking car.”
Isaac barked out a low laugh, shaking his head. “You’re gonna jump off the fucking bridge?”
She lifted her chin defiantly.
“Yup.”
He grinned. “That’s dramatic as hell. Even for you.”
She didn’t hesitate. She slapped him. Again.
Isaac caught her wrist, gripping tight, laughing.
“Jesus, woman, you gotta—”
And then she was on top of him.
Just like that.
Mouth crashing against his, hands twisting in his shirt, kissing him like she was trying to steal the breath right out of his lungs.
Isaac groaned, yanking her closer, his hands tight on her hips, pulling her into him, feeling every warm, soft inch of her as she straddled his lap.
The cabbie cleared his throat.
Rosie ignored him, kissed him harder.
Isaac smirked against her mouth. “You’re so mad, baby.”
“Shut the fuck up,” she growled, kissing him again, biting his bottom lip.
Isaac gripped her ass, rocked her against him, his cock already hard, already pressing into her, already needing more.
“Fuck, Rosie—”
And then—
Her head snapped up, eyes darting to the window.
They were going over the bridge.
Her glare returned.
“I’m for sure jumping out.”
Isaac groaned, tipping his head back against the seat. “Fucking Christ, woman, can you relax for two seconds?”
She ignored him.
He could see her brain working, calculating the best way to launch herself out of a moving vehicle.
Isaac grabbed her waist, yanking her back down. “You jump, I jump.”
“Not my problem.”
“Then you’ll kill us both,” he muttered.
She rolled her eyes so hard she nearly fell over.
The cab slowed to a red light, just a few blocks from his house.
Isaac took the opportunity, grabbing his wallet, flinging a handful of cash at the driver.
Before he could say anything, Rosie threw the door open and bolted.
“Fuck me sideways.”
Isaac launched out after her, slamming the door shut behind him, his boots hitting pavement hard.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
Rosie was already running, heels clicking, heading straight toward the beach like she had some master escape plan.
Isaac ran after her, long strides closing the gap fast, grabbing her arm, yanking her into the shadows at the beach edge.
Her breath was ragged, face flushed, hands fisted in his shirt again.
He smirked.
“You do realize,” he muttered, voice low, “you’re running straight to my house, right?”
Rosie froze.
Eyes wide.
Then, after a long, tense second—
“Fuck.”
Isaac laughed, gripping her tighter.
“Yeah, babe,” he whispered, dragging his lips down her jaw. “Fuck.”
The ocean wind whipped between them, the salty air tangling in her hair, biting at his skin, but Isaac barely felt it.
His blood was too hot.
His head was too fucked up.
Rosie was still struggling in his grip, still trying to yank herself free, still pissed off and running in the goddamn wrong direction.
Again.
“Rosie, fucking stop,” he snapped, tightening his hold on her wrist.
“Let me go!” she growled, spinning to face him, her cheeks flushed, her chest rising and falling fast.
“Not until you explain why you’re so goddamn mad at me!”
She let out a short, bitter laugh, eyes blazing.
“Are you fucking serious?”
“Yeah, I’m serious,” Isaac shot back. “You’ve been pissed at me for a year, Rosie. A fucking year. And then you show up back in my life and we’re—”
He stopped himself, running a rough hand through his hair, exhaling hard.
Rosie scoffed.
“And we’re what?” she pushed. “Fucking? That’s what we are now? Some easy, convenient, throwaway fuck to keep you entertained between deployments?”
Isaac’s stomach dropped.
“Jesus Christ, that’s not—”
“Then what, Isaac?” she shouted, throwing her arms up. “Because I don’t know what the fuck we’re doing! And you sure as hell don’t either!”
Isaac clenched his jaw, his hands tightening at his sides.
“That’s bullshit,” he growled.
“Oh, is it?” she snapped, stumbling slightly in the sand, her balance off from the wine and rage and whatever the fuck else was burning inside her.
“Rosie—”
“You want to know why I’m mad?” she cut in, her voice breaking, cracking under the weight of it all.
Isaac went still.
She let out a sharp exhale, shaking her head, tipping her face to the sky like she was trying not to cry.
And then, she let it loose.
“I heard you, Isaac.”
His stomach tightened.
She laughed bitterly. “A fucking year ago, I heard you.”
Isaac stared at her, his brain scrambling, trying to keep up.
“What are you talking about?”
Rosie took a step closer, jabbing a finger into his chest.
“That night, after we all went out. I came outside, and you were smoking with Chris and Shay. And Chris—drunk asshole that he is—asked if you’d ever fucked me.”
Isaac’s body went stiff.
“And you—” She let out a harsh, humorless breath, shaking her head, voice quiet now, bitter and raw.
“You laughed,” she whispered.
Isaac swallowed hard.
“You laughed,” she repeated, staring right at him, like she wanted to fucking break him. “And then you said, ‘Fucking never. Not my type. Never. No way. Never ever.’”
Her voice mimicked his own, spitting the words like venom, shoving them between his ribs.
Isaac felt like the fucking wind had been knocked out of him.
“Rosie,” he rasped.
She shook her head, her breath coming fast and uneven.
“You said it like I was disgusting,” she whispered. “Like the idea of touching me was so fucking unthinkable that it was funny.”
Isaac’s chest felt tight.
Like something was cracking apart inside him.
“Jesus, I didn’t—”
“Didn’t what?” she snapped. “Mean it? Didn’t think I’d hear? Didn’t think it would matter? That I would matter?”
“That’s not what I fucking meant, Rosie!” he snapped back, his voice sharp, his hands gripping his hair.
“THEN WHAT DID YOU MEAN?” she screamed, every inch of her shaking.
He opened his mouth—
And nothing came out.
Because fuck, he didn’t know.
Didn’t know how to say what was sitting tight in his chest, didn’t know how to fix the damage he didn’t even realize he’d done.
Rosie stared at him, eyes bright with unshed tears.
And then, without another word—
She turned on her heel and stormed away.
In the wrong direction.
Again.
“Rosie!”
“Fuck off, Isaac!”
And for the first time in his life, he didn’t know how to stop her.