Chasing Gunner (Chasing Series Book 2)

by J. M Stoneback

  Yes, when my past started to fuck with me, I chose Jack Daniel’s over you. But now, I choose us.

  I broke my alcohol addiction, but you’re the only addiction I can’t break no matter how hard I try—because I’m addicted to your beautiful soul.

  Love, Gunner

  I hug the sheet of paper to my chest and cry like a newborn baby. Izzy wraps her arms around my shoulders while my tears wet her black, long-sleeved shirt.

  “It’s okay. You deserve better.”

  “No, I’m not crying because he broke my heart.”

  “Then why are you crying?” she asks, stroking my hair like I’m her girlfriend. Izzy has always touched me like I’m more her lover than her friend. It doesn’t bother me. She’s just a touchy person.

  “Because he glued my heart back together.”

  Gunner

  Two weeks later . . .

  I stand by a streetlamp across the street from Gia’s bakery. She talks to a customer as she wraps up a cake in a box, then uses two hands to give it to him. Her smile is bright as a full moon on a pitch black night. She’s alluring, enchanting, tantalizing.

  She never looked this happy when she was working for me.

  Baking is her purpose in life.

  Since I got back from rehab, I come here and watch her for an hour or two, trying to find the words to ask her to take me back. Plus, my sponsor, Amy, has told me I need to settle into a routine. I’ve been working my ass off at my bank. I still go see Hannah, and I’m finally taking my sessions with her seriously. So seriously I started to take a low dosage of my antidepressant. I still have nightmares of my dad blowing his brains out, and I do hallucinate smells, but I’m working extra hard on my issues. I just have to take it one day at a time. Cora moved back in the day after I was released from rehab. And now I’m a full-time dad to her. I told my family about my PTSD, and what happened that night with my dad. My ma cried and did her own therapy by getting out that damn sage stick. They were very supportive of it.

  This is it. I need to get my ass in gear if I want to get the girl I love.

  As I cross the street, my heart beats so fucking hard I fear it’s about to burst. I place my hand on the glass door, and I breathe in my nose and out my mouth. The bell above the door dings as I walk in, and immediately, I use my hand to wipe snowflakes from my Burberry coat. I hate the fucking snow. If I could, I’d move to a more tropical area, like Florida or Hawaii.

  “Welcome to Sandi’s, ho—” She stops mid-sentence and drinks in the sight of me. “Gunner.” She says it like she doesn’t believe I’m standing in front of her. She dyed her hair bubblegum pink and is wearing a purple, long-sleeved shirt with the company logo. She’s so beautiful, the kind of beautiful you stop to admire. She belongs in the summer rain dancing with headphones over her ears with fat water drops hitting her forehead and beautiful hair. My dick’s hard and it hurts against my zipper and I button up the bottom of my coat to cover up my erection.

  I miss the fuck out of her. So much it hurts.

  I stroll to the counter, trying to play it cool.

  “Love the hair,” I say, “it suits you, Rainbow.” Apple orchard lingers in my nostrils. Gia smells of love and home.

  “Did you know that the hairstylist had to bleach it to get it this color? It was your mom’s idea. She took me to her hair salon before we went out to eat two days ago.” Her cheeks turn red, and she bites her bottom lip.

  I knew Gia has been having lunch with my ma since I went to rehab because the minute I see my ma she gushes about her like a proud parent and asks me when we are getting back together.

  Ma loves Gia like her own daughter.

  “I got your letters from rehab, they were sweet.” Gia looks down at the white tiles and back at me. “Did you really mean what you said?”

  I nod my head, then her eyes grow glassy before she smiles.

  “Ask her out for coffee already,” the woman sticking cupcakes into the oven says. “I’m sick of her moping and checking her phone every five minutes to see if you called or texted.”

  She must be Paris, the one I spoke to on the phone about buying the store for Gia.

  “You could have reached out to me. I would have never ignored you.” I lean against the white counter.

  “She’s exaggerating,” Gia whispers as she twirls a loose strand around her fingers. “I was scared you would reject me because I broke things off with you.”

  I smile inwardly at her answer. “What time do you get off? I’ll take you home after your shift is over so we can talk.”

  I’m not giving her an option to say no.

  “I get off at seven.”

  Gia

  He shows up at seven on the dot and sits at a round white table as he watches me make cupcakes and take customers’ orders. I get off at eight, but honestly, I didn’t expect him to show on time. If you’re going to plan anything with Gunner, you have to lie to him about the time because he’ll show up late. When we used to go on dates, especially when we’d go to the movies, I’d tell him to show up an hour earlier than the actual time.

  After I lock the door to my new business, I slide in the passenger seat of his Audi. Leather and cinnamon invade my nostrils but not the scent of whiskey. I missed him so much I want to cry. He looks sexier; my ovaries are on fire and my nipples are already hard against the fabric. He doesn’t have bags under his eyes and something about his demeanor is different—he isn’t angry, but cool as a peppermint candy. He actually combed his auburn hair to the side and the beard he grew in rehab is neat. Nervousness and excitement dance in the pit of my stomach and my heart is jumping for joy. My heart and I have our moments and we’re getting along, but she gets too out of control when Wolf is around.

  “Make a left here,” I say, pointing in the direction. I live less than three minutes from the shop, so I walk to work listening to music. I love my new area in Brooklyn and will often spend time walking around taking pictures of the landscape.

  I open the door to an empty apartment. Izzy went to visit her parents in Maine. I take off my lavender coat and toss it on the couch. He looks around the apartment and back at me. I move into the kitchen and grab us each a can of Coke from the vintage fridge.

  Everything about us is different.

  Play it cool, Gia.

  Don’t mess this up, but more importantly, don’t have your guard up.

  As I gather myself together, I walk back to the living room. He’s perched on the couch. I hand him the Coke, but he grabs both cans and places them on the coffee table.

  Suddenly, my dumb heart beats freely and my palms are sweating.

  “I need to get something off my chest.”

  My eyes grow wide, and I stare at him, waiting for him to spit it out.

  “I shot my dad in the head by accident.”

  I cover my mouth as I gasp in horror. Gunner radiates so much grief and sorrow it chills me to my bones. He tells me how he met Cora and Rylee and Cora told him about the abuse.

  “I confronted him in his basement about what he did to Rylee and told him how much of a piece of shit he was. He was drunk as usual. I threatened to kill him.” Gunner pauses, his eyes move rapidly, and pain etches his face. “I threatened to kill him if he put his hands on Rylee again. So he got out the revolver and told me to be a man. He aimed the gun at his forehead and grabbed my hand and said, ‘Be a man and pull the trigger. Put me out of my goddamn misery.’ And he squeezed my fingers on the trigger.”

  Gunner runs his fingers through his hair and aims his head up at the ceiling fan, then he looks at me and I entwine my fingers with his and squeeze. “That’s when my ears rang. It happened so fast. I was in shock so I didn’t realize what had happened. I called Logan and told him everything while I stood there. He told me to wipe the gun clean and place his fingers on the trigger. So I did what he said.

  “When I heard footsteps, I jumped out the window and hid behind a tree. Rylee came into the room, screaming at the top of her lungs. The next-
door neighbor came running to her house. I watched as both of them called the police, then I got out of there and ran three blocks and I called Logan to pick me up and he drove me to his house. He burned all my bloody clothes and told me to wash myself three times. He asked me if I was sure there weren’t any witnesses. When I nodded my head, we made a pact not to speak about that night. Logan told me that he didn’t want to risk me going to prison for a crime I didn’t do. If they found gun residue on me and if they couldn’t prove that it was an accident, they would pin it on me.” Even when he’s tormented, he’s so gorgeous, he looks like a tragic Greek god that’s about to unleash his wrath.

  I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders and kiss his cheek. “That’s why you have PTSD.”

  He nods.

  “I’m sorry, Gunner, that you had to witness that. I can’t imagine how you’re feeling.” My heart bleeds for him.

  “I’m taking my therapy sessions seriously now, and I’m on a low dosage of Prozac. I have a sponsor I meet with on Mondays, and I go to AA meetings regularly.”

  “Good. I’m happy for you,” I say, rubbing his back. “I’m glad you told me.”

  “Do you forgive me for choosing the bottle over you?” His azure eyes match my whiskey-colored eyes.

  “Of course,” I say. “I forgave you before you even asked.”

  He smiles at my words as he strokes my cheek and I lean in; I missed his touch.

  I feel like I’m about to have a heart attack and my arms break out in goosebumps.

  “You went to my graduation party?” His voice is low.

  “Huh?” I ask, lifting my eyebrow.

  “Ryan told me you went to my graduation party to see me.” His tone is smooth and velvety.

  “He told you that?” I whisper.

  Gunner nods his head. “What happened at the party?”

  I take a deep breath before I begin. “Izzy persuaded me to go. I just wanted to see you one last time. I saw you in the pool making out with a woman; you were so drunk. Izzy wanted to ask you if you had feelings for me, but I told her to forget it because there was no point, so we stayed and hung out with some of her friends from her sorority. I got drunk because I was hurt that I saw you with that girl.” I pause as memories march through my mind. The way his lips locked with hers and how he had his hand on her butt cheeks caused my gut to fall to the floor. I swallow the huge lump in the back of my throat.

  “Keep going, Rainbow.”

  “Yeah, sorry.” I clear my voice. “I was with Ryan and even though I had feelings for you, I wasn’t going to leave him to be with you. I was too terrified he would hurt me.” I was so scared Ryan would kill me if he found out I wanted to be with Gunner. That I thought about another man. He used to ask me questions about Gunner, about why he’d come to the library and see me. I would tell him little lies. I never told Ryan that Gunner asked me out on a date either. Ryan asked me why I was crying out of the blue and I told him I failed a test in business class, which was partially plausible because if I didn’t pass I would have to repeat that class over. But I cried for days about not being able to talk to Gunner or go on a date with him. Looking at someone every day that you can’t have is like having a knife stabbing your heart five million times.

  “My first six months of my sophomore year, you came to the library to see me. And I looked forward to seeing you.” I pause, inhale and exhale. “I loved you even when I was with Ryan. I loved you even when I hated you. I hated myself for loving you because I knew we couldn’t be together back then. In my jacked-up world, I found comfort in your presence and it meant everything to me that you sat with me.” Wolf soaks up every word, and he’s thinking hard. “Ryan punished me for falling in love with you, but I don’t regret it.” I finally admit how I felt all those years ago and it feels good, like a burden has been lifted.

  Wolf is quiet, and I watch him cautiously. I don’t want to scare him off and maybe I shouldn’t overshare with him.

  “Did you know that I ca—”

  “You still love me?” His eyes twinkle, but he keeps a straight face.

  “Yes, of course,” I say, then I swallow.

  “Then marry me.” His words caress my heart. He pulls out a small blue box and rests it on his black pant legs. Tears well in my eyes, and my skin feels feverish. “I wrote you some heartfelt shit when I was in rehab, and you know how I feel about you. I have my private jet on standby. We’ll get married in Las Vegas right now.” He opens the box, producing a small ring with a pink diamond in the center.

  “No.”

  “No?” The lines on his forehead deepen, and he scrunches up his nose.

  “No. I want traditions. You need to be down on one knee asking me, and I want a wedding. Not an extravagant one, but a simple one. You know how I am about traditions, Gunner Joshua Underwood.”

  It took a lot in me not to say yes, but I always envisioned how our wedding would be, even when we were in college.

  A smile stretches across his face. He stands up, moves the coffee table closer to the entertainment center, and gets down on one knee.

  “Now will you marry me?”

  “Yes, but we’re getting married three months from now.”

  “One month from now,” he says.

  “No, two months,” I counter.

  “Fine.” He slides the ring on my finger before he stands up and pulls me to my feet.

  “You always want the last word,” he says.

  “Yet you love me.”

  “I do.” He wraps his arms around my waist, and his smile feels like a million kisses on my skin.

  “Good, you’re already practicing for our wedding day.”

  His lips seal against mine, and his kisses burn hotter than any stars in the sky.

  Gia

  Two months later . . .

  “Take off your dress,” Wolf says. I stare at him as if he told me aliens landed on our planet.

  “Here? Outside on this balcony?” My voice is high-pitched.

  “We’re the only two on this side of the island, and I’m naked too, so you won’t be alone.”

  Yes, he is, and fully hard, and I’m going to ride him soon. I study the tattoo of the half of a wolf’s face morphing into my face on his chest. He got it in Vegas where he went for his bachelor party, and while Matt, Logan, and Darien got drunk, he stayed sober. I asked him if it was hard not to take a drink; he told me it was, but having a drop is not worth destroying his life. I’m so proud of him for conquering his demons. He still struggles every day with PTSD. Some days are rough and others are great. And, whenever he has nightmares or flashbacks, we deal with it.

  “You’ll start to love your body the way I do and feel comfortable in your own skin, Rainbow.”

  I look to my left then my right and notice the rest of the villas are empty. For our honeymoon, he flew us to Mahé, Seychelles. It’s a private island off East Africa. I told Gunner I wanted to go to a place away from people, secluded, and he surprised me here a few days ago.

  “Fine,” I murmur as my cheeks heat up, and I pull the thin, see-through gown over my head, tossing it to the concrete ground. My nipples pebble from the cool breeze and Gunner pats his thigh as I wrap my arms around my waist like I’m shielding it and sit in his lap, facing him. I feel his erection digging in my thigh.

  “Why are we being nudists at this very moment?”

  “To get you out of your comfort zone.”

  “That seems to be the highlight of the week. You made me swim naked in the cold ocean yesterday, and the day before we had sex on the beach.” I was so worried that we would get caught by someone.

  I stare at the breathtaking view, crystal-clear sea, and half-crescent moon. The sky is pitch-black and the ocean tide beats against the black rocks. Salty air assaults my nostrils.

  I feel his fingers trail to the scars on my stomach. He cups my breasts; he traces his lips over my right ear, and I suck in an audible breath.

  “Repeat after me. ‘I love my body, and it�
�s beautiful,’” he murmurs against my earlobe then bites down on it.

  “I don’t want to repeat it,” I whine, folding my arms across my chest, pouting.

  “Until you learn to love yourself and stop bitching about how you don’t like it, that’s your punishment. Now, repeat it.” He continues gently pulling on my nipples.

  “Butthole.” I roll my eyes. “I love my body and it’s beautiful.”

  He bites my ear again. “Good girl, now say ‘I love Gunner’s giant dick.’”

  “Really? You want me to say that?”

  “You’ll actually mean it now.”

  I shake my head at his words, and my mind flashes to the day we were at the diner in Atlanta when he told me to write that on his picture. “Fine. I love Gunner’s giant penis.”

  We spend the next five minutes making out like two horny teenagers, then he scoops me up by my butt cheeks and I wrap my arms and legs around his body. He sends my libido into overdrive.

  “You have to repeat ‘I’m beautiful’ until we make it to the bed.”

  And I do what he says, then he lays me on the white silk sheets.

  “You can’t ask me to walk around naked when Cora’s around.”

  “No, but you’ll start sleeping naked and I’ll make sure you tell yourself you’re beautiful every day.”

  I kiss the bridge of his nose.

  “Before I fuck your brains out, I need to give you another wedding present.” He goes to our suitcase that’s next to the white dresser and pulls out a wad of paper. As I flip onto my side, I prop my hand under the side of my face. We had our wedding four days ago, and it was everything I dreamed of. We had it at Tribeca Rooftop overlooking the city at nightfall. The lights were made out of mason jars that Cora and I made. My dress was a strapless ball gown, and the princess skirt was rainbow-colored. I wore red flare heels. The bridesmaids wore the exact same colors as my princess skirt. It was so pretty. We danced to the song She’s a Rainbow by the Rolling Stones. Our cake was bubblegum-flavored. Gunner has given me everything I wanted and more.