Forever Craving You

by Nia Arthurs

  “Huh?”

  “You ever think that he knows your preference is rich guys? Maybe he doesn’t want to get rejected.” She tilts her head. “And the fact that you’re going on a date with his brother probably isn’t helping.”

  “Trust me. It’s not that.”

  I made my intentions very clear when he came to fix my pipe.

  Ollie’s the one who pushed me off. Not the other way around.

  “I’m just glad you’re finally giving a real man a chance.”

  “Teale drives a Jag.”

  Cobie smacks her forehead. “Oh my gosh. He’s rich too?”

  I laugh at her reaction.

  Just because I’m temporarily obsessed with Ollie doesn’t mean I’ve changed.

  “Never trust a man without money, Chandra. Or you’ll end up just like me.” Mom’s voice echoes in my head.

  I don’t have feelings for Ollie.

  I refuse to.

  As soon as I get him out of my system, everything will go back to normal and I’ll go back to enjoying the finer things in life.

  That’s a promise.

  11 Ollie

  There’s nothing I enjoy more than weightlifting. Except maybe a red velvet cupcake. And the owner of the bakery that sells said cupcake.

  But I don’t think about that.

  Sweat drips down my face.

  Muscles bunch as I struggle through one last curl.

  Grit my teeth.

  Up. Down.

  With a groan, I shove the bar back to the clamps and stretch my fingers out. They’re stiff.

  I overdid it today.

  But that’s nothing new.

  A towel flaps toward me.

  Instinctively, I reach out and catch it.

  “You training for a competition or something?” Griffin’s voice sails into my ears, full of mischief.

  I wipe my face with the towel. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” He sets his duffel at his feet. Brown eyes regard me intently. “I talked to Jenine at the front desk. She said you’ve been pushing yourself hard these past few days.”

  “Not more than usual.”

  “What’s up?” He pauses. “Are you still upset about that postcard?”

  “I don’t think about it.” Grabbing my jug of water, I guzzle it back.

  Griffin plucks at his jersey.

  Looks at it.

  Tilts his head.

  A corner of my lip inches up. “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to see if I’ve got the word ‘moron’ on my shirt.”

  I laugh. Press the towel to my cheek. “Fine. Yeah. The postcard is one of the things that’s been bothering me.”

  “One of them?” He arches an eyebrow. “Let me guess. The other is Chandra?”

  I shrug.

  “That a yes or a no?”

  “It’s a mind your own business.”

  He rounds the bench. Grabs a weight. “Cobie’s been asking questions about you lately.”

  “About me?”

  Griff nods. “She thinks she’s being slick, but I can see right through her.”

  “Why? Does she think I’m a bad influence?”

  “It’s not that. I have a feeling Chandra put her up to it.”

  “So?”

  “So…” He grins. “She’s investigating you. That means she’s into you, man.”

  I swipe my face with the towel again, unmoved.

  I could have told him that.

  “Did you hear me?” Griff insists.

  “Are you going to keep talking?” I jerk my chin in the direction of the weights. “Get to work. You’ve been slacking off ever since you started dating Cobie.”

  Griff sighs. “You don’t seem surprised.”

  “Figured it out myself. Chandra wasn’t exactly subtle.”

  Griff frowns. Out of patience. “You turned her down?”

  “You expected anything else?”

  “Teale’s right. You are an idiot.”

  I glare at him. “Don’t you start too. You and my brother know more than anyone why I can’t have what I want.”

  “And what do you want, Ollie?”

  Easy enough to answer.

  I want Chandra. I want her glaring at me when I’m slow on the uptake. Want her smiling at me—not the fake one, the one that reaches her eyes—when she’s happy.

  I want her on Brew Drop’s counter.

  Dress pooled at her ankles.

  Her mouth against mine.

  Her legs wrapped around me.

  “Hello?” Griff smirks knowingly.

  Man, he’s annoying.

  “She—”

  “Likes you. Not some rich guy that can buy her fancy purses and a new bakery. You.”

  “It won’t last.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  Griff scoffs. “Neither do you, man.”

  Right then, a trio of girls sashay past. They’re in tight sports bras and even tighter yoga pants glued to trim rears.

  The one at the front wiggles her fingers. “Bye, Ollie.”

  “Nice set, ladies. See you next week.”

  They clutch their bags.

  Giggle.

  The one at the front—the blonde with the nice rack—lingers.

  I know she’s about to ask me out.

  “What time does the gym close again?” she asks.

  I point to the wall. “It’s right there on the sign.”

  Undeterred, she tosses her hair over her shoulder. “Are you free tonight?”

  “No. Sorry.” I leave it there.

  Blondy keeps standing in my space.

  Staring at me.

  As if she expects me to say something more.

  Or change my mind.

  I turn to them. Expression flat. “Need something else?”

  “No...” The word is drawn out.

  Brown eyes catch mine.

  Red lips sink down.

  She looks me over.

  Calculating if I’m worth pursuing.

  Concluding that I’m not.

  With a swish of her hair, she leaves with her friends.

  Griff laughs. “That was painful to watch.”

  “For them or for me?”

  “For me. I remember when Cobie flipped me off for rejecting someone else in front of her.” He scratches his neck. “That woman…”

  “Did she want you to accept the offer?”

  “She wanted me to be nice about it.” Griff shrugs. “Like I hadn’t tried that.” He turns to me. Smirks. Gestures to the girls disappearing through the door. “How often does that happen?”

  I keep quiet.

  Often enough.

  I’m tall, burly, inked and ‘mysterious’. I have girls hitting on me twenty-four-seven.

  That’s not a boast. That’s a fact.

  If I wanted women to take home, have a good time with, and never see again, I’d have my fill of them.

  I look like a bad boy.

  I act like a gentleman.

  It’s female catnip.

  But none of the women who’ve flung themselves at me have made me waver as much as Chandra has.

  Griffin steps back.

  Starts to lift.

  I move away, knowing it’s best not to distract a guy who’s trying to concentrate.

  The bar clangs loudly back into place.

  I glance over my shoulder. Find Griff staring at me.

  Turn. Face him. “What?”

  “Teale’s taking Chandra out tonight,” he says.

  My feet freeze.

  Glue me to the floor.

  Griff studies my expression like he’s trying to read my mind. “Cobie told me last night. Said not to tell you. Which I think was her sneaky way of ensuring the information got to the right party.”

  My heart thuds darkly. Forebodingly.

  One word thrums through my brain. Mine.

  “When?”

  “Cobie told me last night. We were—” He blushes. Drops his arms. Shakes his h
ead. “It was about ten, I think…?”

  “When’s. The. Date.” I growl.

  “Oh.” He blinks innocently. Checks his watch. “They’re meeting after the bakery closes. Which is right about now.”

  I swerve.

  Sprint for the door.

  I don’t know why the hell I’m running. Fists pumping at my sides. Heart thrumming.

  I look like one of those pathetic guys in the romantic films Mom used to force us to watch.

  I should slow down.

  Get ahold of myself.

  Teale and Chandra’s date is not my concern.

  It has nothing to do with me.

  The mantra pounds through my head as I jump into my car.

  Start the engine.

  Speed toward Brew Drop.

  I don’t have a plan.

  Hell, I don’t even have a reason.

  I just know what my heart is telling me. Chandra can’t go on that date.

  Not if I have anything to say about it.

  12 Chandra

  John Legend’s crooning pours from the speakers. The singer is breaking my heart and putting it back together all at the same time.

  Listening to love songs is the closest I can get to the real thing.

  Whenever I’m feeling particularly lonely—which always seems to happen before a first date, weirdly—my boy John has my back.

  “Love your… mmm, mm, mm.” I hum the lyrics.

  I’ve listened to this song a thousand times.

  You’d think I’d know the words by now.

  No matter.

  The sentiment is written on my heart.

  I straighten, pressing a hand to my neck that’s strained from bending over to wipe down all the tables.

  The kitchen door flaps.

  Zania pokes her head through. “I’m heading out now, Chandra.”

  “Yeah. Go ahead.”

  She stays in place. “I can stay back to help you clean up.”

  “Go.” I slant her a look. “Your gran’s waiting for you.”

  “Thanks.” She slants me a bright smile and disappears.

  I upturn the last chair and trot to the front door to change the sign when I see a dusty SUV roar into the parking lot.

  “What the…?”

  The door pops open.

  The driver streaks out.

  My hand goes for the lock instinctively.

  My head screams ‘danger’.

  Oh no, buddy. I worked too damn long and too damn hard to be robbed today.

  The lock clicks.

  A hand dives for my phone.

  I’m calling the cops.

  The guy marches toward Brew Drop.

  My hand slows. Wait… his build is familiar.

  So is his urgent stride.

  In the late evening sunshine, I squint.

  Is that Ollie?

  He stops in front of the door. Rattles the knob. The sound of metal scraping and turning jars me out of my shock. I reach out. Unlock the door. Step back.

  His overwhelming presence fills my space.

  Stormy blue eyes settle on my lips.

  “Ollie, what are you…?”

  He swoops in.

  Grabs my jaw.

  Kisses me.

  My eyes pop open.

  Hands splay out in the air like I’m miming a plane.

  Ollie’s lips are warm. Soft. Urgent.

  John reaches the climax of his song.

  The soaring melody meshes with the frantic pounding of my heart.

  I’m pretty sure I’m dreaming.

  This is right around the time I’d wake up.

  My fingers rise hesitantly. Settle on the side of Ollie’s T-shirt. Hard muscle. Contracting abs.

  Warmth.

  He’s real.

  Oh Lord.

  He’s real.

  My body trembles with exhilaration.

  I close my eyes.

  Settle my arms around him.

  Kiss him back.

  Heat. Swirling lust. Hazy desire.

  He’s everything…

  I…

  Ollie’s untangling me.

  My toes curl in my heels.

  Knees knock together.

  I can hardly stand.

  He wraps his arms around my waist. Slants his head to deepen the kiss. Presses his body harder against mine.

  I can feel him.

  So damn hot.

  Any sense of calm or composure I had evaporates like mist.

  Every nerve, every atom in my body begs: More. More. More. I suck and nip, drinking deeply of him. Getting drunk on him. Run my hands along the hills and valleys of his shoulders. His arms. The design of his ink.

  I take a step backward.

  He follows me.

  Lips colliding.

  Breaths mingling.

  Tongues dancing together.

  Now he’s pushing me backward. Guiding me. His fingers tangle in my hair. Tugs gently on my weave. Yanks my head back, exposing my neck. His lips dive in skillfully. Ollie’s mouth sucks the life from the pulse at my throat. Moves up. Takes the underside of my jaw. My ear.

  I can’t breathe.

  I’m about to explode.

  I’m dying.

  I’m alive.

  His hands are rough.

  My butt hits the counter.

  The glass is cold.

  My skirt rides up.

  His fingers brush my bare skin.

  A tantalizing exploration.

  Heat spreads where he touches.

  My pulse races.

  My thighs ache.

  There’s a part of me that still thinks this is a dream.

  Please don’t wake up.

  I have questions.

  Why?

  How?

  None of it matters.

  I’m drowning in the chaotic, frantic passion engulfing my heart and my body.

  John’s love song ends.

  But the silence is filled by my racing heartbeat.

  The rasp of Ollie’s stubble against my sensitive jaw.

  The rustle of fabric, tugging, tumbling, tripping over fingers.

  Skin rubbing together.

  Panting.

  Shuttered breaths.

  Our embrace becomes its own song.

  Until a new instrument that doesn’t belong splinters the moment.

  “Stealing my date, bro? That’s low.”

  Ollie stops.

  I do too.

  That voice.

  It takes a minute for my hazy mind to place it, but when I do, my entire body stiffens.

  Teale’s here.

  Shoot.

  Teale saw us.

  Hunkered underneath Ollie as I am, I’m spared the sight of his face, the nuance of his expression.

  My cheeks are aflame.

  My breath gets caught in my throat.

  Ollie’s cologne still surrounds me.

  I want to keep touching him.

  I know that’s not the best move in this situation.

  Ollie grazes my cheek with his thumb.

  I swallow. “He saw?”

  “I’ll explain to him.”

  I pull my lips in. Suck the bottom lip he’d just ravished the crap out of. Nod.

  My heart trembles. My entire body is tingling like I grabbed a live wire. In my head, I know how bad this looks.

  Gosh, I know it.

  I haven’t sunk that low yet.

  But I’m too shocked to process anything outside of how excited I am. How perfect his lips felt on mine.

  Even more so than my dreams imagined it to be.

  And then Ollie steps aside.

  Turns.

  Stiffens.

  I lean to the side. See Teale standing in the shadows of the bakery.

  But that’s not the concerning thing.

  Because behind him, just walking through the door, is my ex-boyfriend.

  Rick.

  13 Ollie

  The moment I see Rick, my blood starts pu
mping in the other direction. The world around me tinges red. A rage I’ve never known builds on my existing adrenaline.

  Chandra presses a hand to her bruised lips.

  Gasps.

  Brown eyes flicker to me.

  Land back on the jerk who shoved her out of her apartment naked.

  Who abused her.

  Mistreated her.

  Vengeance roars in my ears. A pumping, guttural guitar solo begging for release.

  “What are you two staring at?” Teale asks.

  Glances behind him.

  He notices Rick.

  Whirls back who’s he?

  I scowl. Thrust my chin to the left. The bad guy.

  Teale gets it quickly.

  Folds his arms.

  Stands in Rick’s way.

  “Chandra?” The snake of a man shuffles forward. Head bowed. Eyes on the ground.

  He doesn’t get far.

  Teale refuses to budge.

  “Chandra, can we talk?” Rick lifts beady eyes. Slants them Teale’s way. Rises slightly on his toes to project his words over my brother’s shoulder. “Alone?”

  Who the hell does he think he’s fooling?

  I move forward.

  Plant my feet on the ground.

  Make it known to the room, to the freaking world, that no one is putting their hands on this precious woman.

  Not as long as I’m alive and breathing.

  Teale shoots me a surveying look. What now?

  I shake my head. Don’t move.

  He nods back. “Sorry, man. You’ll have to get in line. I’m afraid Chandra and I already have plans this evening.”

  Rick gives Teale a once-over.

  My brother just lifts his chin.

  Grins.

  Rick better not be fooled by that smile. Teale grew up in the gym. Same as me.

  We both know how to handle ourselves in a fight.

  Rick laughs. There’s a hint of contempt in his previously servile voice. “You moved on so soon, Chandra?”

  I’m getting more and more pissed off by the second.

  Teale points to the door. “Get out.”

  Rick steps forward instead.

  Bumps into Teale’s chest.

  Scrambles back.

  “You imbeciles. I own this place.”

  I don’t even flinch.

  I’ll wreck him up in his own damn house.

  Chandra speaks up. “You don’t own a speck of dust in this bakery, Rick. We both know it’s my name on those papers.”

  I peer over my shoulder.

  Spy her tightening lips.

  The wrinkle between her slanted brows.

  The fight in her eyes.

  Good. At least she’s not falling for this guy’s B.S.