Chapter 10
Steph
“Idon’t need this right now,” I murmur, finally managing to get the words out.
I don’t need this now … or ever.
Riley stares down at me with those familiar grey eyes, and a shiver rolls through me. Not the bad kind either, damn me. And damn him for still having the ability to elicit such a response from me.
I’d felt those eyes. Almost from the moment I walked in tonight. Branding me, like a physical touch.
And, now? I can’t look away. I’m trapped by his gaze, even as the memory of the last time I stared up into these eyes stabs me in the heart.
How the hell did I even get here?
Oh, right, it was that damn text from Lucy that I should have ignored.
Lucy had recently shared that she’s expecting—the result of a one-night stand with Noah Gardner.
They’d gotten drunk at Piper and Aidan’s wedding, aaaand …
one thing had led to another. She’s no stranger to an alcohol fueled hook-up, but it’s relatively unheard of for the uptight Noah. Needless to say, we were all surprised.
I’ve only ever done it once myself—the drunken hook-up thing—but once was enough. And it didn’t end up staying a one-night stand for long. Circumstances changed quickly and—
I shove the thought away.
So not the time to go there despite how often that period of my life has been on my mind lately. It was Lucy’s news that first brought it back, but Riley’s return hasn’t helped either since it was his betrayal that ultimately drove me to do what I did that night.
Ugh!
Again, I shove the thought away, going so far as to shake my head in a physical effort to dispel it.
When Lucy’s text came through earlier announcing she’d decided to keep the baby, and that she was with Piper and a few others celebrating at Aroma’s, I’d felt I had to stop by at least briefly to congratulate her.
Going to a bar was the last thing I wanted to do after a long day at work.
I’d just closed up the library, and my bath and a book had been calling my name.
But I knew Lucy had been struggling with the decision and doubting her ability to be a good mother, so I felt it was important to be there for her, to show her my support, especially given my own experience.
I figured a couple of margaritas probably wouldn’t hurt either.
And yes, I realize the irony of Lucy celebrating her pregnancy news at a bar when she can no longer drink, but only someone who didn’t know her would actually find it strange.
She’s never needed alcohol to have a good time, even if she does enjoy it, but the woman is all about dancing.
“Steph.” Riley’s low, gravelly voice pulls me back to the present.
To this moment, where the man who once destroyed me now stands before me, where I’ve backed myself up against a wall in this busy hallway of Aroma’s.
The music from the bar is muffled here, but the cacophony of women giggling and men catcalling as they pass on their way to and from the bathroom does little to soothe my raw nerves.
Riley’s hands are raised in surrender—or is it supplication?—as he stares down at me, brow furrowed with concern. “I— I don’t want to upset you,” he starts, haltingly.
I squeeze my eyes shut. I can’t look at him.
“Please, Steph. I just—” he sighs. “I just want to talk.”
“I have nothing to say to you. And if I remember correctly, you’re severely lacking in communication skills anyway.”
“That’s fair,” he admits ruefully. I keep my eyes squeezed shut, but I feel it, the moment he closes the distance between us once more.
The warmth of his body rolls over me, waking up a part of myself that I’ve pushed down, ignored, for a long time.
My body trembles—with pain for what he did to me all those years ago, with fear for what his presence back in town might mean, and, much as I’d like to deny it, with longing.
The memory of his touch washes over and through me, ratcheting up my heart rate and heating my blood. Wetness pools between my thighs.
And it’s extremely fucking inconvenient.
Reluctantly, I open my eyes. He’s effectively boxed me in, and the visual confirmation of his nearness causes my lips to part on a sharp inhale.
“I know I made a lot of mistakes back then, Sunshine—”
“Don’t call me that,” I cut him off, but it comes out breathy and unconvincing. Sunshine is the nickname he’d given me, and hearing it from his lips after all this time is unsettling, for it makes me aware of just how much I’ve missed it.
I have to get out of here.
Frustratingly, I make no move to flee, my legs refusing to cooperate with my panicky mind. I’m caught in his web, my body responding in ways I don’t want it to. I realize I’m staring at him again, frozen, my eyes locked on his broad chest.
Ohh, this is bad. So very bad, yet … still I’m unable to move. Unable to extricate myself from this alarming position, I’ve somehow managed to find myself in.
Riley’s fingers curl around my chin, tilting my head so I meet his gaze. The shock of his touch—actually feeling him after all these years—is like a jolt of lightning. It sends electricity coursing through my system to dance with my already wildly beating heart.
We both jump at the shock, wide eyes instantly finding one another.
“Nice to know the spark is still alive after all this time,” he murmurs with a faint tilt of his lips.
And it pisses. Me. Off.
“Though I never had any fucking doubt, Sunshine,” he continues.
There’s that nickname again. The nerve of this guy.
Finally finding the wherewithal to sever the connection, I scoff, pulling my chin from his grasp and breaking eye contact, but he’s not deterred.
He continues to invade my space, bracing himself against the wall so his arms frame my face.
My traitorous body winds tighter with tension.
He leans in close and runs his nose along the sensitive skin of my neck.
It causes goosebumps to spring to the surface.
He sucks in a deep lungful of air, and the low appreciative hum that follows sends shivers down my spine.
“There it is,” he murmurs.
Huh?
“Citrus.”
Comprehension dawns a moment before his lips find my collarbone.
He’s referring to the scent of my shampoo …
my body wash … But the thought is fleeting as his soft mouth presses tender kisses against my sensitive flesh.
He always did love to kiss me there. A whimper escapes me as his mouth moves, leaving a wet trail to my jaw. He sucks at the skin there.
I melt.
I … break.
My hands fly up to grip his shoulders, desperately searching for something to ground me, as our mouths collide.
The kiss is at once familiar and yet oh so very new.
There’s an assuredness to his movements I don’t remember from when we were teens, leaving absolutely no doubt that he’s a man now.
And an experienced one. The rasp of his beard feels foreign against my skin, though not unwelcome.
I find myself wondering, transiently, how it might feel against other areas of my body. More sensitive ones.
Riley’s tongue traces my lips, and I part them, allowing him to deepen our connection.
He licks eagerly into my mouth, groaning when our tongues meet.
I feel the rumble of it deep in my bones.
It obliterates all thoughts from my head.
My nipples tighten into hard, aching peaks, chafing deliciously where I’m pressed against his firm chest. He drops a hand to my waist, giving it a quick squeeze before pinning me roughly to the wall with his hips.
He groans once more, and I give him an answering moan when I feel the hardness of his cock press against my belly.
Everything around us falls away, until there’s only him. Only us.
Our tongues continue to dance, stroking, sucking.
Tasting. The yeasty tang of beer on his breath somehow only serves to ratchet up my need for him.
He slides a thigh between my legs, pressing against my now slick core, both of his hands now gripping tightly to my hips and urging me to grind against him.
And God help me, I do.
I rub my throbbing clit against his thick thigh, the friction of our clothing heightening the sensations, the building pressure. Ohhhh, it’s good. My movements become frantic as I chase that impending orgasm. It’s close. So close. I’m almost there—
But, then … he eases off, sliding his leg from between mine.
No. I nip at his bottom lip in frustration.
No.
He retreats even further, blowing out a breath and dropping his forehead to mine.
I blink.
The muffled sound of the bass abruptly returns.
The waft of cigarette smoke from the open back door and the cackling of another group of women as they exit the nearby bathroom plants me firmly back in reality.
How he did it—how he still manages to do it after all these years is beyond me, but when I’m with Riley, it feels as though we’re the only two people in the world.
Only … we’re not.
And then the panic I felt earlier rises once more, with a vengeance. I can’t believe I let him get this close. I can’t believe I let him touch me. Kiss me.
And that kiss …
It was a claiming. One I can’t allow.
I put my hands on his chest and push, attempting to reclaim some space between us. “What the fucking fuck, Riley?” I hiss.
I barely manage to move him, though my words at least cause his head to rear back. His eyes flare—at my cursing, or the sudden about-face, I’m uncertain.
“How dare you?” I continue, shoving him once more, harder this time.
He allows me to propel him backward. We’re both panting. He stares down at me, his face a mask of uncertainty, his lips wet and swollen from where I nipped him.
I bit him.
I kissed him.
I humped him like a freaking horny teenager.
A laugh bubbles up from my throat, then, as I’m struck once more by his audacity. By the sheer and utter nerve of this man to think he could show up after seventeen years without a word.
After ghosting me … using me … betraying me.
This man broke me. He shattered my heart. I can’t let him back in, for that simple reason and … others—one in particular I refuse to even think about in his vicinity.
“I hate you,” I breathe, barely above a whisper. It’s unlikely he can hear it over the background noise, but I watch the hurt flicker in his eyes as he reads the words on my lips.
Good, I tell myself as I slip past him, where he remains frozen in the hallway. He deserves it. If he feels even a modicum of the hurt and pain he’s caused me …
But it doesn’t actually feel all that good as I weave back through the crowd in the main bar in search of my friends.
I should feel relieved. Satisfied that after all these years, I finally got the chance to tell him how I feel.
And I want to hate him, after the way he broke me, I really do.
But as I make my excuses to Lucy and Piper and escape into the night, the truth repeats again and again. It echoes in my head and in my heart.
I don’t really hate him.
I never could.
And I hate that more than anything else.