Heartless

by Jennifer Sucevic

  “Your dad still keeps up on news about him. As long as Hunter doesn’t injure his knee again, he’ll be a top round draft pick this spring.” Her eyes turn dreamy. “Think about it, you could have been the wife of an NFL player.” She presses closer to the table. “Do you have any idea the crazy amount of money he’s going to make in the next few years? If you’d been smart, you would have tied that down when you had the chance. Then you wouldn’t have to work a day of your life.”

  I didn’t think it was possible, but my disgust for her ratchets up a few dozen notches. Brandi’s antiquated thinking sets women back at least a hundred years. Maybe she enjoys being a kept woman, but that’s not the kind of lifestyle I want for myself.

  It’s difficult to keep the anger from vibrating in my voice. “I was never interested in Hunter because of his earning potential.” I can’t resist tacking on, “That seems really shallow.”

  Why am I trying to explain myself to this woman?

  Brandi shakes her head before giving me a pitying stare. “A girl has to look out for herself. No one else is going to do it for her, Skye. The sooner you learn that lesson in life, the better off you’ll be.”

  I almost snort.

  And there you have it in a nutshell…Brandi’s personal philosophy. I’m sure she has it stitched somewhere on a pillow.

  No matter how much I love my dad, there’s only so much I can take of his third wife and I’ve reached my limit. I glance at the phone next to my plate and clear my throat. “This has been fun, but I need to get back to campus for a two o’clock class.”

  “Is it really that late?” She swipes her blinged-out phone from the table and her eyes widen. “I had no idea!”

  Relief floods through me. We’re in total agreement that this lunch has reached the end of its lifespan and I have no intention of trying to revive it. Now we can grab the check and get the hell out of here. It’s been at least ten minutes since Hunter sat down at his table. As much as I’ve tried to pretend that he’s not dining at the same restaurant, I’m intensely aware of his gaze burning holes through my back.

  Brandi flags down our waiter, who has materialized out of nowhere, and slips him a black credit card without glancing at the check. When he walks away to process the bill, she says, “I have a Botox appointment at two. And it’s clear across town. It’s going to be nearly impossible for me to get there on time.”

  Ummm, okay.

  “Would you mind grabbing an Uber back to campus?” She digs around in her wallet and pulls out a twenty. “Here. For your trouble.”

  I stare blankly at the bill she shoves in front of me.

  Is she serious?

  Brandi is actually ditching me?

  For Botox?

  I almost laugh.

  A twenty doesn’t begin to cover the aggravation this lunch has caused me. The woman can add a stack of twenties solely for the psychological damage of watching her grope my ex-boyfriend.

  I’m kicking myself for not taking my own car and meeting her here. Instead, I let Brandi talk me into a small shopping excursion and lunch. I didn’t even buy anything, so it was a total bust.

  All I can say is—

  Never.

  Again.

  “Sure. Whatever,” I say flatly. At least I won’t have to spend anymore time with her. So, there’s that.

  The words barely make it out of my mouth before she signs the credit card receipt and pops to her feet. “Great!” She rushes around the table and pulls me in for a quick hug. “I’m so glad we could get together! We’ll have to do it again real soon! I’ll text you!”

  Over my dead body.

  And then she disappears out the door, leaving a cloud of Chanel perfume in her wake. All I can say is that the woman is un-freaking-believable. Thank goodness it’s over. Aggravation bubbles up inside me before I snatch my phone from the table and shoot Lanie a text. I’m about to hit send when I remember that she’s in class.

  Damn.

  I kick around the idea of getting an Uber, but it’s only a two-mile walk to campus. And since I’ve been stuffing my face with baked goods and not exercising, a walk will probably do me some good.

  It certainly can’t hurt.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Hunter

  “C atch you back at the house.” I fist bump Sam Henderson on the way out of Poco Loco before heading to my ’69 Ford Mustang parked in the lot. Mason bought it off one of his customers dirt cheap. At the time, it had to be towed to the house. We couldn’t get the engine to turn over. We spent the summer before my senior year of high school fixing it up and getting it to run. My brother’s friend did a custom paint job on it in exchange for some repair work and it’s been purring like a kitten ever since. No matter how much money I make, this car is my baby and I’ll never get rid of it. I slide onto the butter soft black leather and start it up. It’s music to my ears when the engine growls to life.

  “Damn, Price, that Shelby gives me major wood every time I see it,” Eric Wixom shouts as he jumps into the pickup truck parked next to me. “Sure you don’t want to sell her?”

  “The answer hasn’t changed from last week, Wixom. You can stop asking.”

  I pull out of the lot and into the flow of traffic before cranking the music in an attempt to drown out thoughts of Skye. I can’t go anywhere without that girl turning up. Tell me how I’m supposed to move on if she’s constantly in my face?

  Three blocks later and she materializes before my eyes.

  What the hell?

  It’s not a conscious decision on my part to ease the car to the side of the road, it’s pure instinct. A deep need to be close to her no matter what my feelings are. If I could sever the connection between us, I would do it in a heartbeat.

  As if sensing my presence, Skye glances toward the vehicle. The moment her gaze locks on mine, she frowns and jerks her head forward so I’m no longer in her line of sight. A smile curves my lips. I like Skye best when she’s pissed off and feisty. Is it wrong that I enjoy needling her so much?

  I turn down the music and yell out the passenger side window, “Need a lift?”

  Already I can hear the word no sliding off her pouty lips. If given the choice, she’d prefer to be bound and gagged in the back of a serial killer’s van than endure ten minutes of my company.

  “From you?” The icy look Skye spears in my direction is full of contempt. There’s even a slight curl to her upper lip in case I missed the other subtle signs she’s giving off. She forces out a bark of laughter and shakes her head. “I don’t think so.” Then she hastens her pace as if it’s possible to leave me in her dust.

  I glance at her footwear.

  Sandals.

  Strappy silver ones that look too delicate to make it more than a block. She won’t get far in those. If she does, she’ll pay the price for that decision later on.

  The Mustang crawls beside her as my fingers tap the steering wheel. “You really going to walk all the way back to campus, Skye?”

  “Yup.”

  A horn blasts and I glance at the rearview mirror. A line of cars has formed behind me. I step on the gas until the car shoots forward and I’m once again moving. Two blocks up the street, I find a spot to pull over and cut the engine. Then I slide out of the driver’s seat and walk around to the other side before casually leaning against the car while I wait.

  It takes about five minutes for her to catch up.

  Her face has turned a bright shade of red and she sounds far crankier when she snaps, “Go away, Hunter.”

  Yeah…that’s not going to happen. Even if I were so inclined, I wouldn’t leave her to walk the rest of the way. I’ll fully admit to being an asshole, but I’m not that big of one.

  “Get in the car. You’ll never make it back to campus without tearing your feet up.” I could strangle Brandi for leaving Skye to her own devices. More than that, it grates against my nerves that I actually give a damn about her welfare. “Look at you, it’s only been a couple of blocks and you’
re already limping.”

  She presses her lips together and glares.

  “What’s the matter? Was Brandi too busy to drop you off after lunch?” I focus on the one thing we can agree on. Our mutual dislike for her stepmother.

  “Yup,” she admits begrudgingly, “she had a very important Botox appointment that she couldn’t be late for.”

  That sounds about right. I should have guessed it was something ridiculous like that. “Are you really surprised she ditched you?”

  She huffs out a breath and her shoulders fall. “No.”

  What I’d like to know is why those two were even together in the first place. Sure, there have been plenty of changes over the years, but I don’t believe for one damn minute they’re now best buddies. Ever since I’ve known Skye, she could barely tolerate the woman. And now they’re going out to lunch together?

  It’s weird as hell.

  Instead of satisfying my curiosity, I say, “Why don’t you stop wasting my time and get in the car. I’m not going to let you walk home.”

  She throws her arms wide. “Why do you even care?”

  I shrug. The truth of the matter is that I shouldn’t. It’s not like I want to care.

  “Get in the car,” I snap, tiring of this conversation.

  She sucks her lower lip into her mouth and studies me. Indecision is written across her face. It takes a moment before she relents. “Fine, but I’m only agreeing because my feet feel like they might fall off and I’m nowhere near campus.”

  I unleash a smug smile before pushing away from the car and popping open the door. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

  She scowls as I wave her inside.

  By the look on her face, this is killing her. I’m sure she doesn’t want to be anywhere near me. Especially after the other night. Even thinking about the way she begged me to make her come gets me rock hard. I want nothing more than to put my hands on her body again.

  If I know Skye, she consoled herself afterward by vowing that it would never happen again. She may not realize it, but that’s a lie. At every turn, I’m going to prove that I can break her down and bend her to my will.

  And you know what?

  I’m going to enjoy every fucking minute of it.

  Nervous energy vibrates from her as she slides onto the passenger seat. When she fumbles with the seatbelt, I knock her fingers aside and take over. My face hovers close enough to feel her breath feather across my lips. She swallows as I pull the belt across her chest. My knuckles graze the softness and her nipples pebble under her shirt. I’m so tempted to push the material out of my way and suck the tight little buds into my mouth.

  “Hunter,” she whispers, “don’t.”

  “Don’t what?” I raise a brow. “Don’t make sure you’re safely belted in?” I give her a wolfish grin before bouncing to my feet and slamming the door.

  Her wide gaze stays fastened on me as I saunter around the hood of the car. By the look on her face, she’s already regretting this decision. Blistered feet are nothing compared to the threat I pose to her wellbeing.

  Once I’m belted in, I start the engine and pull into traffic. It never occurs to me to fill the silence with music. Tension gathers in the pit of my gut as I glance at her from the corner of my eye. After we broke up, I never imagined she would sit next to me again in this car. When we were seniors in high school, this Mustang meant freedom. We drove all over the place and fooled around on these leather seats hundreds of times. Even when she was wet and sandy from the beach, I couldn’t keep my hands off her.

  It’s as if Skye can sense my silent trip down memory lane. She shifts her body and a flash of leg catches my attention. My mouth dries as the pretty little skirt she’s wearing hikes up her thigh only to reveal more sun-kissed flesh.

  If she were still my girl, I’d already be strumming my fingers against her leg, inching higher with every pass until I could stroke the sweetness between her thighs. She would widen them, allowing me to touch her before tossing her head back and closing her eyes. Her breathing would pick up and she would whimper with pleasure. Back then, touching Skye was as natural as breathing. Maybe even more so.

  I give myself a quick mental shake. The girl sitting next to me is no longer mine. She threw our relationship away after high school and never looked back. It’s all I can do to clench my jaw and stare straight ahead.

  This was a mistake.

  My goal had been to push her buttons and prove that her body still ached for my touch. Instead, all I’ve done is give myself a raging boner with no relief in sight. No matter how pissed off I am, all I want to do is touch her and brand her as mine. Skye is the only female capable of burrowing under my skin and that’s the last thing I need right now.

  She interrupts my thoughts when she points to the street we just whipped past. “Hunter, you missed the turn.”

  I blink away the thick web of memories and glance in the rearview mirror.

  Fuck. She’s right. I blew right past the turnoff for campus.

  “Where are we going?” Apprehension threads its way through her voice.

  It would be all too easy to explain that I wasn’t paying attention, but then I realize it’s not true. Muscle memory has taken over and I’m headed to the beach. The one we used to call our own.

  Goddamn, this really was a shit idea on my part. I should turn around and head back to the relative safety of campus, but I’m powerless to pump the brakes and jerk the wheel.

  “Where are we going?”

  I press my lips together, afraid of the answers that might escape. After a mile, I pull into the small parking lot that overlooks the ocean. I cut the engine and allow the saltiness of the air to waft over me. Skye and I used to come here all the time. We’d have bonfires at night with our friends. She’d sit between my outstretched legs and I’d bury my face in her hair as the wind blew through it.

  I can’t come here without thinking of Skye. The two will forever be entwined in my mind. She’s been a beach girl for as long as I’ve known her. The ocean has always been a place where she could forget about all the bullshit in her life. She would close her eyes and float on the waves, and I’d tease her about being part mermaid.

  An image of Skye walking out of the water with her long blond hair clinging to her sun darkened skin flashes unwantedly through my mind. When we were together, I couldn’t get enough of her. One taste and I was addicted. She was like a drug pumping through my system.

  A wave of nostalgia washes over me and threatens to suck me under. It feels as if someone is squeezing my heart with their fist, making it impossible to breathe. As soon as I realize that I’ve become mired in the past, I swear under my breath and clear those thoughts away.

  “Hunter?” She stares at the beach before glancing cautiously at me. “What are we doing here?”

  All at once, the answer is clear, and I angle my body toward hers. She wrings her hands together in her lap as tension fills the air.

  “Have you given any consideration to what I said the other night?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  She’s just full of lies. The biggest one being that she no longer wants me.

  The way her gaze skitters away as her chest rises and falls in rapid succession under the blue shirt she’s wearing is what gives away her innermost thoughts.

  “Who’s the one playing games now?” I reach out and drag my knuckles across her cheek. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  She inhales a sharp breath as the pulse in her throat kicks into overdrive.

  Her panicked energy is exactly the balm I need. It smooths out all my sharp edges, giving me far more patience for this pursuit than I thought possible. Instead of pouncing and devouring her in a matter of minutes, I force myself to slow down and enjoy the hunt. Her anxiety flavors the air between us, and I inhale a deep breath to savor.

  “Come on, now.” I stroke a finger over the fullness of her bottom lip. “I want to hear you say it.”

  H
er throat convulses as she chokes down her discomfort. “Closure.”

  Yup, that’s it. I want to bury myself deep inside her body and pour all of my anger and frustration into her where it belongs. I want her to carry the burden of it around for the next three years. Maybe then, I’ll finally be able to find some peace and move on with my life.

  She owes me that much.

  “Have you given it anymore consideration?” I repeat.

  “I didn’t think you were serious.” The way her voice warbles makes me wonder if there’s a hummingbird trapped inside her throat.

  That’s another lie.

  My gaze dips to her mouth. It’s the perfect cupid’s bow. I remember the way it felt to have her pouty lips wrapped around my dick. How I would spear my fingers through her blond hair, holding her head while she blew me.

  I miss that.

  So.

  Fucking.

  Much.

  Her eyes widen as I push my thumb between her parted lips. “I want you, Skye.” My cock stiffens painfully as her tongue teases my digit.

  When she shakes her head in denial, my lips quirk and my fingers tighten on her chin to still her movements.

  “Oh, but I do. Want to feel how much?”

  Again she tries to shake her head.

  Such a little liar.

  I lay my hand over hers before dragging it to my lap. When she doesn’t pull away, I press it to my rock-hard dick. A groan slides from my lips when her grip tightens around me. My hips thrust into her touch. It wouldn’t take much to make me come.

  Skye is the only girl capable of undoing me.

  She whimpers as I loosen my grip on her chin and pull my thumb from her mouth. My breathing is harsh and choppy, I’m way too close to losing it.

  Her fingers tighten around my cock, squeezing the tip. “You don’t actually want me,” she says thickly. “You want to fuck me. There’s a difference.”

  Damn right there is.

  I want to fuck her until she hurts as much as I do.