by Hannah Gray
“I owe you nothing. You left me, remember?” he says out of the blue. Anger seeping from his voice.
“I’m aware of that.” I didn’t have a choice but to leave you, asshole.
“But for your nosy-ass information, I’m not carrying around diseases with me. I’m clean.”
Spinning around slowly, I lean against the table, folding my arms over my chest. “Congratulations.” I cock my head to the side. “You use condoms. It doesn’t make who you’ve turned into any less disgusting.” I say it with venom because that’s how it makes me feel when I think about him with another person that isn’t me.
Stepping toward me, he invades my space. His delicious scent instantly filling my nose and crippling my brain, turning me stupid.
Looking down at me, his eyes are filled with pain and not anger. “How would you know what I’ve turned into, Ally? You haven’t been around me in fifteen months.” In an instant, the anger returns as a vein bulges in the side of his neck. “Fifteen. Fucking. Months,” he says through gritted teeth. “Like a fucking ghost, poof, you were gone.” His fingers grip my chin roughly, and he looks like he might erupt. “You left me alone. You joined that fucking club of disappointments in Cole Storms’s life. You. Get. No. Fucking. Say. Anymore.”
My chest heaves from him being so close. My breaths become so shallow that it actually hurts. “You’re right. I guess I don’t.” I narrow my eyes. “But you fucked a girl in a restroom, Cole. That’s pathetic. So, yeah, excuse me for thinking your dick probably isn’t the cleanest these days.”
I cannot hold his gaze any longer, and I avert my eyes to the floor. I feel my hard exterior crack the smallest bit. That’s what I’m afraid of—that he’ll break me down. He has the power to do it.
His lips move closer to mine, lingering over them and making my knees weak. I remember exactly what he tastes like—sweet mint. And now, that’s what I’m craving.
“And if you hadn’t cut me off, I would have been fucking you instead,” he says callously. “This is on you, Ally. Not me.”
I can feel his breath against my mouth, making my entire body feel numb and my legs turn to Jell-O.
What a pathetic bitch I’m being.
His words shouldn’t do this, but they cause an ache in places that should not be aching for him. A longing deep within me that only he can fulfill. He’s being a dick, but damn, I’ve missed him.
All of him.
“Everything all right, Al?” the owner, Lenny, says, coming out of nowhere.
Giving him a tight-lipped smile, I nod. “All good, Len. Mr. QB here was just on his way out,” I say before turning my head back toward Cole. “Isn’t that right, Storm?”
He eyes me over for a moment before backing away. “Sure is.” Turning, he struts out. “Yo, Knox, Weston. Let’s roll.”
And then he’s gone.
While I can breathe again, my body feels completely empty and cold.
“What was that about?” Lenny asks, a broom in his hand.
Lenny and his wife have owned this place for thirty-five years. She passed away a few years ago, but he refuses to stop working. At the age of seventy-three, he shows absolutely no signs of slowing down.
Rushing over to Cole’s table, I begin to clean it off. I don’t like Lenny working any later than he has to, so I always try to get my tables cleaned and everything put away for the next day in a timely fashion. Even though he lives above the restaurant anyway. So, luckily, he doesn’t have to travel home late at night.
“Nobody,” I mutter.
“Didn’t seem like a nobody,” he answers.
“Well, maybe he was somebody to me at one time, but now, he isn’t.”
Putting his hand on my shoulder, he looks me in the eyes. “That boy’s eyes never left you. Not the whole time he was here. I might be old, but I’m not blind.”
My heart softens for a split second before I ice up again. “You’re right; you are old. You are probably getting senile and seeing shit. Or maybe you’ve got cataracts,” I joke before patting his hand.
Even though we haven’t known each other long, we already banter nonstop. I’ve never had too many people in my life I can count on. Yet I somehow know Lenny will be in the extremely exclusive group that I have.
Taking the bill from my apron, I can’t believe what I’m seeing. They left me three one-hundred-dollar bills as a tip.
“Jesus Christ,” Lenny huffs under his breath, spotting the cash. “Nobody, my ass.”
“Hey,” I say, holding the money up. “At least that pain in my ass is good for something, right?” Taking two of the bills, I try to pass them to him. “Here, all I did was take their order and bring it out. You cooked it.”
He backs away, shaking his head and raising his hands up. “That’s all yours, Al. You earned it. You get on out of here. It’s a school night.”
“Yes, sir.” I know better than to argue with him. He won’t change his mind. “I don’t work tomorrow, but I’ll see you Thursday.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters before heading back into the kitchen.
Locking the front door, I hear Cole’s voice come from behind me in the darkness, and I turn around.
“Tell me you weren’t planning to walk home alone,” he growls, pushing off of a jacked-up black truck. “Because that would be really fucking dumb.”
It should have startled me, made me jump … something. But I think my mind already knew he’d be outside, waiting for me.
When we’d first met, he’d instantly become my guardian, always making sure I was all right and that I was taken care of, even before himself. One thing I can say about Cole Storms: if he considers you his family, he’ll protect you at all costs.
“Well, I have no other way to get home, so yes, I’m walking home,” I huff out. “Besides, campus is not even a mile up the road.”
“It’s nighttime, Ally.” His voice comes from the darkness.
I throw my hand up. “The entire way is lit sidewalks! Jesus, did you forget how I—no, how we grew up? Walking at night isn’t a big deal. At least, it never was.”
In reality, I am a little spooked to be walking home alone at night. The day I left the Falls, I learned just how horrible people could be. But forcing myself to suck it up and push my fears aside—in this case, while walking home—is something I need to do. For me.
“Yeah, well, once you came to Charlotte’s Falls, you were no longer alone. You became my problem after that.”
“Well, I’m not your problem anymore, Cole.”
Before I even realize it, he has me pushed up against the side of the building. He smells like mint and pine, just like he used to. Even in the darkness, I can see his eyes glaring down at me.
“You will always be my problem,” his deep voice barks, his delicious, minty breath hitting my face, numbing me like Novocain. “You really ought to know that by now.”
His hand cups my cheek, moving down to my neck. He grazes my skin with his fingertips, causing my entire body to melt into him.
His eyes move to my lips for a moment, and there I stand, wanting him. Needing him. He makes me feel like myself again. Finally. I’ve craved him since the day I left. And I can say without a shadow of a doubt, if he tries to take this further, I’ll let him take it as far as he wants.
“And what if I don’t want to be your problem anymore?” I manage to say through my breathlessness.
“We both know that isn’t true. So, take it the fuck back,” he snarls like a dog protecting its bone.
“I don’t know anything anymore,” I breathe out. “Everything I thought I knew is different now.”
He flicks his gaze from my eyes to my lips and back again. Slowly, he blinks, snapping himself back to reality.
Stepping back, he stuffs his hands in his pockets. Almost like if he doesn’t restrain them, they’ll roam my body. Deep down, I know that’s what I want though. I want them on me.
“Get in the truck, Ally.” He doesn’t ask. He demands.
I turn to walk away, but before I even make it a full step, I’m snatched up and slung over his shoulder—his deliciously muscular shoulder.
“Motherfucker!” I yell, kicking my feet and flinging my arms.
Gripping my ass cheek with his hand, he squeezes. “We could have done it the easy way, Ally. But no, like always, you have to be a pain in my fucking ass,” he roars.
“Put me down, asswipe! Or so help me God, I will cut your balls off.”
Feeling him chuckle beneath me only infuriates me more.
Cocky motherfucker.
Cole
Opening the door to my truck with my free hand, I slam her ass down in the seat. Not gently either. But after trying to tell me no and attempting to walk off, she doesn’t deserve gentle.
Getting an inch from her face, I nod my head toward hers. “I swear, if you run, I’ll just keep doing this. And I have an early fucking practice tomorrow, Allycat, so don’t pull any more shit tonight.”
Her chest heaves as she glares at me. Her cleavage glistening in the moonlight. Causing me to second-guess not fucking her against the building. She’s pissed—that’s obvious.
You see, Ally has never had anything of her own that someone hasn’t tried to take. Me taking her independence to walk home, well, that makes her fucking livid. The thing is though, she’s sexy when she’s angry. My dick twitches in my pants as I watch the rage radiate from her body.
Shutting the door behind me, I’m shocked when she actually keeps her ass in the truck.
Good girl, Ally.
Maybe she’s learning to listen to me.
I climb in next to her and turn the key. The loud purr of the Duramax engine roars to life.
A perk of being part of a fake-as-fuck family who doesn’t really want you but wants your talent? A sweet fucking ride.
I drooled over having a truck like this for years. I knew I’d have one someday—when I was in the NFL. But I never imagined I would have one now. Then again, I never imagined Ally would leave, giving me no choice but to go live with some random rich people.
I still didn’t want them though. Even tried to push them away. But my shady foster parents told me if I didn’t go, they’d spread some shit about me to college recruiters, and I’d likely never see the day to play college ball, let alone the NFL. The dream of playing football at the NFL level was bigger than my pride, so I said fuck it, and I have been with them for a little over a year.
I’m eighteen now, so technically, I could say fuck them anyway. But they are nice enough to me, so I haven’t cut ties yet. And besides, they gifted me this truck. So, I suppose I can’t hate on them too much.
He was some hotshot in the NFL years back but blew his knee his second year in and never made it back. Talk about a shitty fucking situation. That’s every athlete’s worst nightmare—to get injured and not play anymore.
The mom is a schoolteacher, who makes a mean chicken potpie.
But I’m not stupid. I know they are using me for my talent.
One thing I’ve learned though is, you need to take advantage of the breaks life hands you. And people like Ally and me? We don’t usually catch too many breaks. So, I had to take this one.
The ride to her dorm only takes a few minutes. I can basically feel the steam rolling off of her as the anger flows through her veins.
When I pull up in front of her dorm, she turns. “How did you know which dorm hall I’m living in?” Her voice is laced with skepticism.
Staring straight ahead, I rest my wrist on the steering wheel. “I know people, Al. I find out everything I need to. You’d do good to get that through your head sooner rather than later.”
It’s the truth. I’m a pretty big deal on campus, and people basically bow at my feet. It’s nice, but I also remember that they wouldn’t be there if I wasn’t the captain of the football team. They might all seem like my friends, but they aren’t. They are opportunists. Every one of them.
“Oh, right.” I can basically hear the eye roll in her voice. “You’re some big dick on campus now, so suddenly, you have connections and have turned into a fucking stalker.”
“Not a stalker. But big dick?” I smirk. “Hell yes.” Turning toward her, I reach out and graze my fingers on her chin, causing her to quiver. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”
She ignores me and pulls away from my touch. “Well, thank you for the ride,” she mutters.
And I have to practically pick my fucking chin off the ground. Ally saying thank you after I basically kidnapped her? Did hell freeze over? Can pigs fly? Especially after that dickhead move I pulled last weekend at the movies, trying to rub it in her face that I hooked up with someone. The fuck was I even thinking?
“I don’t want you to walk at night. Ever,” I tell her, preparing for the backlash.
“I don’t have a car, Storm. I hate to break it to you,” she says and waves around at the truck, “this lifestyle didn’t happen for me.”
“Where did you go then? I want to know where the fuck you’ve been.”
She looks down at her hands that are resting on her lap. “One day, I’ll tell you all about it. But not tonight. I’m dead-ass tired, and I have an early class tomorrow.”
Climbing out of the truck, she turns to me. “Thanks for the ride. But I’m not a child. You don’t need to worry about me walking home.”
I always fucking worry. And I always will.
I run my hand down my face and look over at her. “It’s just how I am with you. Can’t be any other way than this.”
I can’t even apologize for it either. If anything ever happened to Ally, it would be my fault. I truly believe that the universe gave her to me. I don’t pray or attend church or believe in a whole helluva lot. But I know one thing for sure: that girl was put here for me to love her. And I wish more than anything that that’s what I was still doing. That’s all I want to do.
She nods and looks up at me with those big, heartbreaking eyes. “I know,” she whispers before closing the door.
And I know without a shadow of a doubt that she believes me. She knows I can’t help how I am with her.
As much as I want to hurt her for leaving me, I can’t. I need her close to me. I need her like I need my next fucking breath. And even though I should let her take care of herself, like she’s asking, I can’t do that either. There’s too much bad shit that could happen to her. I can’t risk it. Not when it comes to her.
My brain travels to just how far back it began—when I started losing my mind to protect this girl.
“You seem pissy,” I said to Ally. “What happened?”
I was worried she might not fit in right away. Those kids could be assholes. It was only her fourth day of school, but I had been here for three months. I had gotten here before Ally, and unlike my last high school, I was respected. The football program here was kick-ass, and I was the best player in my age group. Shit, I was better than the older kids too.
“Rebecca and Melissa were making fun of me in English. And then in PE, Trevor Stanhope and Brett Lewis were being dicks. It hasn’t even been a week, and I already hate this place.”
Hearing girls had been mean to her pissed me off. But hearing that dudes had been, too, made me fucking livid.
“I’ll take care of them. Don’t worry your pretty little brain.”
She frowned. “I’m a big girl, Storm. I’ve been on my own a long time. I can handle a few spoiled rich kids.”
“You don’t have to though. I can do it for you.”
“I don’t want you to do that.” She slammed her locker shut. “I said, I can handle it! Stop acting like you’
re my protector or some shit.”
I had no doubt she could handle anything herself. But I also didn’t care either. From day one, I had known she had been put here for me to watch out for her, and that was what I was going to do.
“Ally, look, you are one bad bitch. Hell, you scare me sometimes. But you are my family. And one day, you’ll be my wife. If you need a friend who won’t defend you, well, that ain’t me.” I took her hand in mine. “Unfortunately, even if you need that type of man, you can’t have him. Because you’re already mine.”
She tried to act irritated, but I knew better. She already loved me too much for that. She just didn’t know it yet.
She’s always wanted to take care of herself, but I just can’t let her do that. I’ve never had anything or anyone of my own to love, and once she became mine, I guess I sort of smothered her.
I won’t make apologies for keeping what’s mine safe.
seven
Ally
A yawn rips through my throat without me being able to stop it.
I hate math.
I hate math.
I fucking … hate … math.
This is the only class I dread coming to. It’s boring as hell, and I have to fight not to fall asleep. It’s equivalent or worse to watching paint dry.
Thank God it’s over any second.
“Class dismissed,” the professor says, as if reading my mind.
Gathering my things up, I start to head toward the door. My stomach has been growling for forty-five minutes. I need food.
“Ally?” a smooth, unfamiliar voice comes from behind me.
When I turn, my eyes find a tall, muscular dude with blond hair. He’s attractive—there’s no denying that. But comparing him to Cole would be like comparing a beat-to-shit Jetta with the exhaust falling off to a brand-new Mercedes. Cole being the Mercedes, of course.
