Used (Unlovable, #1) (Unlovable Series)

by Halat, Lynetta

  “Let’s go the movies,” Maggie blurts out.

  Denver and I both groan. She has a hard time sitting still for any length of time, and I’m not going to sit in the dark next to her while feeling this on edge. No fucking way.

  “Come on, y’all. It’ll be fun,” Maggie cajoles. “We haven’t left this apartment all week except for classes and working the horses.”

  “Whatever you want, sweetheart,” Pete coos at her.

  “So fucking whipped,” I sneer.

  “So fucking jealous,” he quips.

  “Whatever,” I mutter. “Denver, movies?”

  “I guess,” she says with a shrug.

  Perfect. I need some time away from her. “Y’all go to the movies. I’m gonna go out.” I pretend not to notice her face drop. I call Pete back to my room and give instructions for watching out for her before I go.

  I DON’T GO far. There’s a party in the apartment building next door. And it’s perfect since there are no rodeoers here. Our group is tight-knit, and I wouldn’t trade them for anything, but sometimes it’s suffocating.

  After a couple of beers, a little brunette with shy, blue eyes approaches me. We chat for a while. I ascertain the things I need to know about her—she’s no virgin, she’s no slut, she’ll leave shortly after, and she’ll keep her mouth shut.

  When I tell her what I’m interested in, what I’ll do, what I won’t do, she blushes, but readily agrees.

  Lacing her fingers through mine, I lead her back to my apartment.

  Denver

  I BARELY OPEN my eyes when I hear the door open. I glance at the clock; it’s too early for Maggie and Pete to back. It must be Ransom. I wait a minute for him to come to the bedroom before I stretch and go to the door. As my hand turns the knob, I hear two voices, and that female one is definitely not Maggie. I cringe, and my stomach instantly knots. I know this whole “my girl” thing is an act. I know it is. But that’s not helping, and I want out of this apartment. Right now. There’s no way I can listen to that.

  Slipping on my shoes and throwing a hoodie over my head, I ease the door open, hoping to quietly slide past them. I move out into the hall, but I’m too late for a quiet escape.

  I retrace my steps and edge the door closed before I collapse against it. I’ll never get that image out of my head. Her lying there naked, her arms stretched above her head, her legs spread before him. Him standing over her, devouring her with his eyes. I picture him getting her worked up and slipping inside her, and it makes my stomach turn. I’m jolted from my living nightmare when I hear her moan his name. I kick off my shoes and dive for the bed but can’t get the pillows over my head before I hear her call out his name twice more.

  After a while, I remove the pillows and listen intently. I don’t hear anything more for a few minutes before I hear the front door close and then the shower running. That’s when I lose it.

  Ransom

  I TOWEL OFF and stare at myself in the mirror, hating that I needed that release, but glad that I got it. I’ll be much better at helping her without feeling constantly on edge. I don’t kid myself in thinking that the little fix I just had will stave off my craving or my ache for her, but this should buy me some time.

  A glutton for punishment, I find myself wondering again if she’d ever be up to exploring anything with me. I know I’m supposed to care about all that other shit, and despite the fact that I made a promise to myself, she overrides it all. It surprises the hell out of me.

  If she’s willing to give that up to be with me, I’m willing to overlook her past and be hers. And if anything, she’s proven time and time again that she is the perfect woman for me in every other way. I just have to get her to see that she doesn’t need all those other guys if she’s got me.

  Wrapping the towel around my waist, I make my way to my room to get some clean clothes. I open my door and the slim shaft of light lands on the lump in my bed, facing the wall. What the fuck? The blonde hair that I’ve spent countless hours running my hand over splays out over my pillows, and my jaw hardens. Stepping back into the hall, I pull the door closed quietly before stumbling back to the living room. What the fuck? Why the fuck is she here? I start to sit but change my mind and cross the hall to Pete’s door. I knock, nothing. Opening the door, I see they’re not here.

  I shoot a text to him. Sitting on the couch, I put my head in my hands and curse him. I told him I didn’t want her alone. I told him she wasn’t ready for that, and he’d left her anyway.

  Then I curse myself for leaving her. This wasn’t Pete’s fault. She isn’t his responsibility. She’s mine. Mine. I punch my palm several times before my phone buzzes.

  Said she didn’t want to be a third wheel and was tired. We tucked her in tight before we left. No worries, boss.

  No worries? She probably heard me fucking around with another girl. She didn’t need to hear that. I don’t want her to think … what? That I couldn’t keep it in my pants after what she just experienced? My mind races over everything I did to that girl, and I think about every moan, every groan, every time she called my name. There’s no way she didn’t hear. She’d have to have been comatose. This place is tiny, and the walls are paper-thin.

  Time to stop being a pussy and go check on her.

  I ease back into the room, slip some pajama bottoms on, and crawl in bed with her. I hesitate for a moment before curling into her. After I listen to her breathe for a minute, I whisper, “Say something.”

  Her breath catches and she sniffs. Hell. I’m in hell. “I have no right to feel hurt,” she whispers, a voice thick with tears.

  I squeeze my eyes tight, wishing I could undo the whole night. It should have been enough to sit with her tonight, to take her the movies, to crawl in bed with her and talk until we dozed off like we had all week. “Turn around,” I rasp before clearing my throat.

  Edging up on her elbow, she spins, and I wrap my arms around her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were here. I never would have—”

  “It’s OK … really. I’m fine. It’s just …”

  I wait for her to finish that statement. Tell me that she wants me like I want her. Tell me it made her sick for me to be with another girl. My blood boils, and my whole body tenses when I think of how I would’ve felt if she were with another guy while I lay in the next room. I’d have torn this fucking place to shreds.

  “Just what?” I finally prompt. I need her to take my mind off her with another guy. Yeah, I’m a selfish bastard.

  “I was jealous.” My blood thunders in my ears. “I just wonder if, I mean, when I’ll ever want to be with someone again. When I think of being with someone now, my whole body protests. And I hate it. I hate it!” She wants to be with someone again. Not me. Someone. I have to force that bitter pill down before I can speak.

  I strive to give advice in a neutral tone. “When you’re ready, you will want it. You won’t run from it. You’ll know when it’s right. And maybe this is your chance to … undo some of the past.” That sounds like a bunch of bullshit, but it’s the best I’ve got because … someone. Might as well have said anyone.

  “But … you wouldn’t understand,” she mumbles.

  That kind of pisses me off. “Has there been anything I haven’t understood yet?” I demand, a little rougher than I meant to.

  “No,” she squeaks.

  “Then try me.”

  It dawns on me, as I wait for her to confide in me, that she’s not touching me. I’ve got myself wrapped around her like a second skin, and she’s not touching me. She’s got that pose, that fighter’s stance, my little fighter. All the progress I’ve made with her, effectively erased with one selfishly stupid move on my part.

  “You’re not gonna like it,” she finally whispers. “But I’m afraid I’ll never want to be touched again. That terrifies me because I’ve come to rely on it.” She shifts a little. “The sex. I used sex to forget everything. Hearing you … it made me remember all that I’ve been trying to forget. It came on full-f
orce. It rushed over me like an avalanche, and I was buried under the weight of it, starving for oxygen and light. That’s what sex gave me … an out. It infused me with oxygen and light for a while so that I didn’t think about the darkness, the suffocation. I’m scared I’m never going to want it again. And I’m terrified that if I don’t, I’ll be consumed. That’s why I did what I did. The sex with no strings. The other stuff … the love and the commitment … I don’t deserve those things. But I need the oblivion, the peace.”

  “Put your arms around me, little fighter,” I command softly. Reluctantly, she does what I tell her. I bury my face in her neck, and I squeeze her to me. “I’m sorry,” I murmur against her neck. I say it a few more times before her tears wet my neck. “I would … if I could, I would be with you. I would take it all away for you. But I can’t … not like that.”

  She stiffens against me and withdraws her arms, shrinking away before I realize how that sounded. “I understand. I’m gonna sleep on the couch tonight. I just … I need to be alone.”

  “No,” I bite out. I want to tell her that the timing’s just not right. I want to be with her so much that it’s killing me, but we can’t yet. And now that an awkward silence has set in, she won’t believe any of my reasoning anyway. I’ll just have to show her. “I’ll sleep on the couch. You stay here.” In my bed, where I imagine you all day long. In my heart, where I long for you.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Denver

  I STUMBLE TO the bathroom feeling like I have the worst hangover, but not having had a drop of alcohol. When I stare in the mirror, I remind myself again that he doesn’t want me. Or more accurately, wants me but won’t take me. I’m not good enough for him. My unlovable nature strikes again.

  I splash some water over my face and run my fingers through my hair. I missed his hand in my hair, and the way it made me feel, last night. Usually when I wake up, it’s a rat’s nest because he’s fisted his hand in it sometime during the night. Not today. And that reminds me that I owe him an apology. I finish up in the bathroom before going to stand over him on the couch. He’s all scrunched up. I notice his hair has grown out a little since we first met, and I can’t resist running my hand over the soft darkness of it. Once I touch him, it’s like I can’t get enough. I run my fingertip over the lightening-shaped scar through his eyebrow. I smile as I realize the other eyebrow scar shoots like a falling star. Then I remember the crescent moon on his chin, and I move my finger down to run over that. He’s otherworldly, my celestial being. Well, not mine exactly.

  I glance back up to his eyes, and they’re lit up like the stars themselves. “Don’t stop,” he says, his voice hoarse. His voice is intoxicating, and I am compelled to explore each scar.

  Kneeling down in front of him, I move my finger up his jaw, down his neck, and over his collarbone, to finger the scar that cuts across. His hands are so scarred I could spend eons there. I take them in mine and run my lips over his knuckles, placing light kisses as I go. I sit back quickly on my heels as I realize what I just did. Touching him was one thing, kissing quite another. “I’m sorry,” I groan.

  His brow furrows, and he whispers, “I’m not.”

  “You confuse me,” I admit. He shouldn’t let me touch him if he won’t have me.

  He sits up abruptly and winces with a quick draw of air beneath his teeth.

  “Ransom, what’s wrong?”

  “Oh,” he says, as his hand massages his knee. “Just an old war wound,” he kids. “I sat up too quick. I’m always so stiff.”

  “Your knee?”

  “Knee, back, shoulder, neck, ribs … you name it.”

  He seems to have a handle on the knee, so I crawl up on the couch behind him and run my hands over his shoulders. He’s done so much for me. Then I practically kick him out of his own bed because of my own insecurities. I couldn’t feel any shittier. The tension in his shoulders vibrates under my hands. I work my fingertips around the knots, going deeper until each one fades.

  “You should still have your ribs wrapped, huh?” He hums a yes. “You ever wonder why you do this to yourself?” I can’t help but ask.

  “Every damn morning,” he jokes.

  “You’re so tense.” I run my hands down the knobs of his spine, and he exhales and shudders with the movement. “Does that feel good?”

  “Good, incredible, amazing … I’m afraid you’ve just bought yourself a lifetime of rubbing my back.”

  My heart speeds up, prancing from his off-handed remark. His phone buzzes on the table, and I look over to see it blowing it up with messages. I stretch with one hand and grab it for him. My eyes catch on Elizabeth. Ugh! I hand it to him and start to get up, but his other hand comes out and traps me. “My aunt,” he states.

  He clicks through them and then jumps so quickly that I almost topple off of the couch. “Ransom?”

  He knocks on Pete’s door before heading to his room like a hobbled flash. “I gotta go home today,” he calls out.

  Pete stumbles out and looks at me questioningly. “He’s in his room,” I answer.

  I’m not sure what to do, so I go in with Maggie and scoot her over into Pete’s spot so I can lie on her side of the bed.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know. Ransom got some texts from his aunt, and he took off to his room.”

  “I hope nothing’s wrong,” she whispers.

  “Me too, but I’m afraid there is.”

  Her brow wrinkles. “You OK?”

  “Yeah, I’m good.”

  “Ransom was not happy about us leaving you last night. I feel terrible, but you promised you were fine.”

  “I was fine. I am fine.” I glance over my shoulder to make sure the coast’s clear. “He brought a girl back here last night,” I mutter.

  “Oh, no. What happened?”

  “Nothing. I mean he … did what he did, she left, and he climbed in bed with me. And I told him I couldn’t sleep with him after that. I feel terrible making him sleep on the couch, but the thought of him holding me after he …”

  “I bet,” she whispers before a grin overtakes her face. “He holds you?”

  I bite my lip to keep from smiling. I don’t trust myself to talk about the way that makes me feel, so I just nod and move on. “I have no right to feel jealous, but I was so pissed and hurt. He’s just helping me through a rough patch, but I can’t help it, Maggie … I’ve fallen for him. And I’ve never fallen for anyone like this.” God, I’d wanted to fall so badly for Greer. Why couldn’t it have been Greer? And why couldn’t that have happened years ago?

  “I know you have, sweetie.” She fusses over me as she pats my hand.

  “I hope he doesn’t know. How embarrassing,” I groan.

  “Why would that be embarrassing?”

  “Because he doesn’t feel the same way about me,” I say it like I would say duh!

  Her soothing voice is stowed, and she takes a tone of impatience. “I’ve told you before that Ransom feels—”

  Pete clears his throat while entering the room and grunts, “Ransom wants to talk to you.” Worry mars his features.

  I jump out of the bed and head back to his room, where he’s zipping up his duffle bag. “Is there anything I can do?”

  Grabbing my hips, he pulls me into him. Tension courses through him in waves. His eyes burn into mine. “Yes, you can stay with Pete or Maggie. I don’t think you should be alone. I wish I could bring you with me, but it’s not a good time. I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Yeah … no, I understand,” I assure him. “I hope everything is OK.”

  “It’s my mom, but she’ll be all right.” I hug him to me because he doesn’t sound convincing.

  “Is it a far drive?”

  “Nope, little over an hour is all.”

  “I’ll miss you,” I whisper. I cringe a little at my admission, but I hold my chin up and maintain eye contact.

  Some emotion I can’t name shadows his eyes before he drops a kis
s on the top of my head. “I missed sleeping with you last night, and now I have to miss it again. I’m sorry I was an ass. I wish I had time to explain, but my mom needs me.”

  “Don’t worry about me, please. Finish getting dressed. I’ll make you some coffee for the road, all right?”

  He just nods.

  PETE AND MAGGIE have worn me out. We spent the day working the horses and trail riding. After a mostly sleepless night, all I want to do is crawl in bed and pass out. Unfortunately, our stock of clothing needs to be replenished, so Maggie and I head to our dorm while Pete whips up something for dinner. We put some clothes in the washer downstairs before heading up to our room. After fiddling around the room a bit, I go back down to throw the clothes in the dryer. As I round the staircase, Stephanie catches my attention.

  “Hey, girl. Where’ve you been hiding?”

  Hiding was right. Come to think of it, I am done hiding. I’ve never hidden in my life. When Ransom gets back, I’ll just have to tell him it is time for me to move on. Especially in light of last night’s event and this morning’s … weirdness. I’ve been trying to process that all day. One minute, I’m so hurt that I can’t see straight. The next, I’m tending to him like he’s breathing his last breath and he’s the most precious thing I’ve ever seen. That made no damn sense.

  “Denver?” she prompts.

  “Oh, sorry. I’ve been staying with Maggie and Pete.”

  Her eyebrows bunch up. “Doesn’t Pete room with Ransom?”

  Totally not an innocent question. Our little version of Mayberry—everybody knows everybody else’s business. “Uh, yeah. We’re just friends though.” She doesn’t look convinced.

  She catches me up on the goings on of our dorm life—it’s like a bad soap opera. We walk upstairs, and I start to tell her I’ll talk to her later, but she squeals, cutting me off, and spins around to run to her room, telling me to wait right here. She bounds back after a minute. “I can’t believe I almost forgot, but Greer stopped by a few days ago and asked me to make sure you got this.”