Heartless

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Heartless Page 18

by Jennifer Sucevic


  Or so I tell myself.

  The remaining thirty minutes of class drag by. It’s a relief when Bennet dismisses us for the day with a reminder to continue working on our project. Already a month and a half have flown by, which seems crazy.

  As I leave the classroom and head into the already crowded hallway, someone touches my arm. A zip of electricity shoots through me and I know it’s Skye. The moment my gaze falls on her, she releases her hold. Even though her fingers were only there for seconds, it feels like the print of them has been inked onto my flesh like a tattoo.

  “Do you have a minute?” Nerves dance in her voice as her gaze darts away before coming back to rest on mine.

  I’m tempted to grab her and—

  “Should I wait?”

  My gaze jerks to Jaxon who hovers over her like he’s her full-time bodyguard. A mixture of jealousy and frustration flares to life inside me. If I didn’t know better, I’d suspect Jax had a thing for her, but I realize that’s not true. He’s totally into Lanie. I’ve seen them together enough times to recognize when a guy is head over heels in love with a chick. Jax is so whipped, he can barely see straight. I hope for his sake that Lanie is worth the trouble because let’s face it, relationships go south.

  “No,” she says quietly.

  I refocus my attention on Skye as her gaze bounces between the two of us before finally settling on me again. “We need a few minutes to discuss our project. I’ll see you at the townhouse later.”

  Clearly unhappy with the dismissal, Jaxon’s lips flatten as he gives me the stink eye. “Fine, I’ll catch you later.”

  With one last glare aimed in my direction, Jax reluctantly takes off. At some point, I’m going to have to fix things with him. We can’t have this strife between us. It’s not good for the team.

  When Skye remains silent, I raise a brow. “You wanted to talk?”

  Even though my curiosity has been piqued, I don’t want her to know that. When we hookup, it’s always me who initiates it. It’s not like she’s ever denied me, but it would be nice to know she wants me with the same intensity I crave her.

  What the hell am I thinking?

  Why does it even matter?

  Her tongue darts out to moisten her lips and I have to clamp my mouth together in order to stifle a groan as a shot of lust arrows straight to my dick. The crazy thing is that I had her a few days ago, I should be good. Obviously, that’s not the case. No matter how much time I spend inside her, it’s never enough.

  This situation is more fucked-up then I’d allowed myself to believe.

  “Yeah, do you have a few minutes?”

  “A couple, but it needs to be quick.”

  When Skye pauses, glancing away as if uncertain what to do next, I take matters into my own hands and grab her fingers, towing her through the hallway. By now, all of the classrooms have emptied and there’s less of a crowd which makes the passage easier to navigate. I pull her into the first darkened room we come to before closing the door and locking it.

  She wrings her hands together as her gaze drops to my mouth.

  Is that what she wants?

  A fuck?

  Fine by me. I’m more than happy to oblige.

  When I stalk closer, her eyes widen, and she takes a hasty step in retreat as if to keep the same amount of distance between us. I corral her toward the far wall until there’s nowhere left to go. Her back hits the drywall with a thump and her hands flatten against it. The tiny pulse in her throat flutters like the wings of a hummingbird.

  “Hunter—”

  “Did you really want to discuss our project?” I press my body against hers until she can feel the thickness of my erection jutting into her belly. She groans as I shackle her wrists with my hands before sliding them up the wall and above her head.

  “No.”

  My lips curve into a smile. “Good, because I’m not interested in talking about it either.”

  Before she can say anything else, my mouth slants over hers, swallowing up the thoughts she has yet to voice. Even though I’m the aggressor, she’s like an assault on my senses. Without any prodding, Skye opens under the firm pressure of my lips and our tongues tangle.

  With one hand, I hold both of her wrists captive before the other streaks down to my athletic shorts. Once my dick is free, I bunch the material of her skirt in my hand before tucking the hem into the waistband. I pull her panties to the side and in one clean stroke, thrust into her tight sheath.

  Fuuuuuck.

  The moment I’m buried deep inside her warmth, I close my eyes and revel in the euphoria that fills me. No matter how often we screw, it’s like this every time. Pure nirvana.

  Just when I think it can’t get better, her muscles contract around me and it’s the best damn feeling in the world. It’s like her pussy is trying to choke the life out of my cock. I come with a groan, my hips pumping against her as I hold one of her legs around my waist so I can drive deeper.

  How am I ever going to get enough of her?

  Of this?

  Stars cloud my vision as I lower my forehead, resting it against her shoulder until I can catch my breath. As much as I want to stay buried in her and enjoy the bliss that is washing over me, I know it won’t last. As soon as the haze of our frenzied fucking clears, the reality of our situation will crash down around our heads. Reluctantly I pull out of her heat and tuck my dick back into my shorts.

  Skye bites her lip and refuses to meet my gaze. Her fingers shake as she pulls her panties in place and smooths out her skirt. Sadness fills her eyes until they are overflowing with it. For the first time since I grabbed her fingers and pulled her through the door, I wonder if I made a mistake. Maybe this wasn’t what she wanted. Maybe she sought me out for a different reason altogether.

  I open my mouth to say something. Anything that will change the trajectory of this relationship…if that’s even possible. But nothing comes out.

  A heavy swath of silence blankets us, becoming almost suffocating. Instead of clearing the air, I pick up my backpack and beeline for the exit. As I twist the lock and open the door, I hesitate, forcing myself to swing around and face her.

  How can I leave when there is so much that needs to be hashed out?

  I lick my lips as a sliver of uncertainty scuttles down my spine. Fuck, this is so much harder than I thought it would be.

  “Skye—”

  “I can’t do this anymore,” she blurts. Her voice grows stronger as the words spill from her lips. “I’ve given you all the closure you’re going to get from me.”

  Stunned by her outburst, I snap my mouth shut. Thank fuck she beat me to the punch, and I didn’t have the chance to pour my heart out. Can you imagine how much of a dumbass I would have felt like then?

  Exactly how many times do I need to get burned by the same chick before I learn my lesson?

  Want to know what that was?

  A narrowly averted disaster.

  I jerk my head into a tight nod before sauntering out of the room with my dignity intact.

  This is for the best, I tell myself. It needed to happen.

  But if that’s true, why do I feel so fucking empty?

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Hunter

  I rush through the doors of the emergency entrance at Claremont Medical before skidding to a halt at the front desk. An intimidating woman who looks more ripped than I am is manning the operation. It’s entirely possible she’s not a nurse at all, but security. My money is on her to take someone down to the ground if it becomes necessary.

  “Excuse me,” I say, capturing her attention from the computer screen she’s staring at. “My brother was brought in about an hour ago.”

  When she glances up, her entire expression transforms as she goes all fangirl on me.

  “Hunter Price!” Her hand flies to her non-existent chest. “You’re even more handsome in person than you are on TV.”

  I shift from one foot to the other. “Oh…well, thank you.”

&
nbsp; Before I can ask about my brother, she says, “My husband, Roger, is a huge fan! He’s not going to believe it when I tell him that you were here tonight.”

  “Ummm, right.” I glance around for someone else who can help me, but the place is empty. “About that…my brother was in a car accident before being brought here. I’d really like to know how he’s doing.”

  “You got it, sugar. I’ll look it up right now.” She peers at the computer screen and then at me. “Who’s your brother?”

  “Mason Price.”

  She taps away on the keyboard and clicks through a couple of screens. “Yup, he’s here. They brought him in an ambulance, and he was admitted about an hour ago. Would you like me to take you back there?”

  “Yes!” A tidal wave of relief washes over me. “That would be awesome.” Mason can’t be too banged up if I can go back and see him, right?

  She pops to her feet with an impressive amount of grace. “Would you mind if I snap a picture? I’ll be quick and then we’ll hustle you back there.”

  I plow a hand through my hair and paste a smile on my face. I’m used to this kind of behavior, but still…Mason was brought to the hospital by an ambulance. And while I know his condition isn’t dire, I’d rather see for myself that my brother is okay.

  When the hospital couldn’t get a hold of me, they called the university who relayed the information to the coaching staff, who told me during the middle of practice. To hear that Mason was hurt was like a punch to the gut. All I could imagine was the one person I have in this world being ripped away from me.

  Just like my parents.

  What I need right now is to see Mason’s face with my own eyes.

  That’s it.

  But apparently that’s not going to happen until this woman gets her photo op.

  “Sure, that’s fine.”

  “I’m Donna, by the way.” She snaps a few pictures of me alone before throwing an arm around my shoulder and taking a dozen more. Five minutes later, I’m gritting my teeth as she takes her sweet damn time scrolling through the snapshots and inspecting them. “The camera really loves you, doesn’t it?” she muses.

  Yup, aware of it. “So…about my brother?”

  Her head jerks up as if she’s forgotten the reason I’m standing here in the first place.

  Seriously lady?

  “Right! Let’s get you back there.”

  I follow Donna over to a set of double doors where she swipes the key card hanging on a lanyard around her neck. The doors swing open and voilà, we’re allowed entrance to the emergency room. She keeps up a steady chatter about the season and my prospects going into the draft. I make a few noises and that’s enough to keep her yapping my damn ear off.

  Donna is beginning to grate on my nerves.

  Who knew the woman was going to be so chatty?

  The hallway opens up into an expansive space with a desk in the middle of it. Small, curtained rooms surround the perimeter.

  She beelines for the room closest to us and yanks back the curtain without any preliminaries. The moment my gaze lands on the hospital bed my brother is stretched out on, all of the sickness and nerves churning at the bottom of my gut dissolve. I’m not much for religion, but I send up a quick prayer of thanks that Mason wasn’t taken from me.

  With a small flourish, Donna waves her hand in my brother’s direction as if she’s pulled off the David Copperfield magic trick of the century. “Well, here he is.”

  Instead of taking off, she shuffles her feet as if reluctant to part ways.

  I force a smile. “Thanks again.”

  “No problem. Anything for you, Hunter Price. Make sure you stop by the front desk on your way out and say goodbye.” She gives me a wink before leaving.

  Sheesh.

  Mason’s lips lift into a smile. “Looks like someone has a fan club.”

  I roll my eyes.

  My brother attempts to chuckle before wincing and clutching his ribs. “Damn that hurts.”

  I grab a chair and drag it over to the bed before dropping down on it. “What the hell happened?”

  He huffs out a sigh and settles against the sterile white pillows that prop him up. “Got T-boned through the intersection. Some dumbass kid who was texting and driving. He didn’t see the red light and blew right through it.”

  I drag a hand over my face. “Fuck.”

  “Yeah. Believe it or not, he walked away without a scratch. He’s one lucky son of a bitch.”

  Mason wasn’t so fortunate. My gaze skims over the length of him again. This could have turned out so much worse. Other than two cracked ribs and a few stitches on his forehead, Mason appears to be all right.

  A nurse bustles in and examines the clipboard at the end of the bed before checking his vitals.

  I rise from the chair and stretch. “I’m going to grab something to eat. I’ll be back in a few. You want anything?”

  “Nah, I’m fine. I’ve got kind of a headache right now.”

  I glance at the nurse to see if this raises any red flags. When her expression remains neutral, I duck out of the room. After a couple of steps, I realize that I have no idea where the cafeteria or gift shop is located. All I want is something to drink and maybe a protein bar. I’m famished. My stomach is starting to eat away at its own lining.

  Two employees later, I find a small coffee shop that sells actual food. Fuck a protein bar, I’m getting a sandwich. I have no idea how long Mason is going to be stuck here. It could be thirty minutes or a couple of hours.

  Maybe I should pick up a few of them just to be safe.

  I grab two ham and cheeses and a bottle of water before paying for everything at the cash register. Once the food has been bagged up, I swing around, ready to head back. Let’s hope that finding my way to triage isn’t nearly as confusing as getting here was. Had I been smart, I would have left behind a trail of breadcrumbs. It’s entirely possible Mason will get released and his ribs will have healed up by the time I return.

  Fuck…I still can’t believe this happened. I’m grateful the damage wasn’t more extensive. What the hell would I do without Mason? He’s all I’ve got. Without him, I’d be alone in the world. My heart lurches at the idea. I blow out a steady breath and remind myself that he’s fine. In a few months, his ribs will have healed up, the stitches on his forehead will have faded into a scar, and life as we know it will have gone on.

  That’s what I need to focus on.

  With my bag in hand, I take a step and grind to a halt.

  Dean Sinclair is standing in the hallway outside of the coffee shop, staring down at the phone in his hand. It’s been years since we’ve seen each other. He looks thinner than I remember.

  Uncertain if I should say hello, I hesitate. Brandi was friendly enough when I saw her a month ago, but I’m not sure if I would get the same warm reception from Dean. Although, he has no reason to be pissed off at me. His daughter is the one who walked away.

  Now…if Skye happened to mention our recent involvement, that would make it an altogether different scenario. Dean would definitely kick my ass and I can’t say I’d blame him for it. In hindsight, I’m not proud of my behavior.

  Maybe it would be better if I got the hell out of here and saved us both from an awkward conversation. A wave of sadness washes over me. After my parents died, Dean took me under his wing and made sure I was all right. That’s one of the reasons it hurt so much when Skye broke up with me. I didn’t just lose a girlfriend, but her family as well.

  Decision made, I head into the hallway, ready to sidestep him.

  “Hunter?”

  Well, damn.

  I stop as my gaze coasts over him. With his head tipped down, I’d noticed the weight loss, but it’s more pronounced now that I’ve gotten a good look at his face. He was always so robust and larger than life. A prickle of unease flares to life in my gut.

  “Hey, Mr. Sinclair.” I step forward and shake his hand. “How are you doing?”

  His lips curve into a
ghost of a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Can’t complain. How’s football going?”

  “The season is off to a good start. We’re five and one.” I notice the gauze covered tape on his arm and wonder what he’s doing at the hospital. Is it a simple blood draw or more than that?

  “Yeah, I’ve been watching.” He points to my leg. “How’s the knee feeling? I heard about the ACL injury last season. That was a tough break.”

  I shrug and gloss over the gory details. “It’s as good as new. The surgeon was one of the best in the country, so I’m confident there won’t be issues down the road.”

  “That’s great news. I was concerned when I heard about the injury. I thought about reaching out.” He shrugs. We both know why he didn’t. “You must be excited about the draft after missing out last year.”

  “I am. I’m focused on getting through the next couple of months and keeping my knee healthy.”

  He nods. “Looks like you’ve got everything lined up, Hunter. I always knew you’d get there. We’re all real proud of you.”

  “Thanks.” My chest expands and I get a little choked up. The last six years have been a tough road. “I’ve always appreciated your support.”

  Silence settles over us as I shift my weight and point to the bandage. “Are you here getting your blood drawn?”

  Dean glances at his arm. “Yup. I started a new chemo treatment about a month ago and they’re checking the numbers.”

  “Chemo?” I echo with disbelief.

  Dean has cancer?

  When the hell did that happen?

  “Yeah, I was diagnosed with colon cancer last year.”

  “Oh.” My mind spins and I try to grasp on to a coherent thought. But it’s impossible. Dean has cancer. “I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. Sinclair.”

  He shrugs as if there’s nothing more to say on the topic.

  It hits me like a ton of bricks that this is the reason why Skye transferred to CU. She never said a damn word about it, and I didn’t bother to dig deeper and ask questions. I was too busy being pissed off that she’d turned up again when I had so much on the line. It never occurred to me there might be a legit reason for her to relocate.

 

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