His Heart
Page 21
“Yeah, I gathered that,” she said.
“I have no idea why she’s here,” I said. “My mom is friends with her mom, but I thought she lived in Chicago or something. I haven’t seen her in years.”
“She’s from… before?” Brooke asked.
I nodded. “High school. Early college. I’ll get my mom alone and ask her what the hell is going on when I can. But if you’d rather go…”
Brooke put her hand on my chest. “No, we don’t have to leave. It’s fine.” She glanced toward the kitchen. “I just hope Olivia doesn’t make it worse. She’s really good at that.”
“Yeah, this is going to be interesting.” I touched her chin, tilting her face up, and planted a soft kiss on her lips. From the corner of my eye, I thought I saw Cami watching us from the other room, but when I looked up, she wasn’t there.
I led Brooke into the kitchen where everyone else was standing around. My dad came out of his den and looked even more surprised to see Brooke and Olivia than my mom had. He gave Mom a sidelong glance—there was a distinct I told you so in his expression—and politely greeted both of them.
God, this was going to be the weirdest dinner ever.
Mom asked Cami to help her pour wine, and it didn’t escape my notice that Cami seemed to know where everything was. Brooke and I both declined a drink.
“Oh my god, Seb, look at you,” Olivia said. She stood in the hall just outside the kitchen in front of all my old wrestling pictures. “You look so different without your beard.”
“Yeah.” I wished my parents would take all that shit down. “Those pictures might as well be a different guy.”
“They’re still you,” my mom said with a smile. “You’re still the same.”
Hearing her say that didn’t sit well with me, but I wasn’t sure why. Brooke slipped her hand into mine and squeezed. I glanced down, and she met my eyes with a comforting smile. It was like she understood what was going on inside me, even when I didn’t.
“I barely recognize you with that baby face,” Olivia said. She turned to Charlie. “Did you look this young when you were a wrestler?”
Charlie usually kept a few days growth of stubble, rather than a thick beard like mine. But we’d always had to shave when we were wrestling. He rubbed his jaw. “Yeah, except I’m way better looking.”
“You wish,” I said.
Cami helped my mom get the food on the table. We all sat down and passed things around, dishing up our plates. The tension in the room was so thick I was surprised any of us could breathe.
My mom’s expression was calm, but the worry lines in her forehead deepened every time she looked at me. My dad was either oblivious, or choosing to ignore the awkwardness. Charlie met my eyes with an amused grin. He was clearly enjoying my discomfort. I kind of wanted to punch him in the face.
Brooke stayed quiet. I put a reassuring hand on her leg.
“This is really good, Mrs. McKinney,” Olivia said. “Thank you.”
Mom smiled. “You’re very welcome.”
My dad cleared his throat. “Sebastian, how’s the new semester going?”
“It’s good,” I said. “I’m taking a full load.”
“That must be about it, then,” he said. “Almost finished with that business degree?”
“Not quite,” I said. I’d been back in school for the last two years. With the credits from my first year and a half at U of I, I should have been almost finished. But I’d thrown in some extra math classes that weren’t required for my major. And I wasn’t so sure about that business degree anymore. But I hadn’t discussed that with anyone yet—especially not my parents.
“Well, hurry it up, son,” Dad said. “I need you at the dealerships. As soon as you’re finished with school, that assistant manager position is yours.”
“Family business,” Olivia said. “Nice. Are you and Brooke planning to move out here, Seb?”
The tension heightened, but either Olivia didn’t notice, or she’d said you and Brooke on purpose. Charlie choked back a snicker while Olivia looked at me with an innocent smile. Definitely on purpose.
“I’m not sure,” I said. “We haven’t really talked about it.”
“Of course he is,” Dad said, apparently ignoring the and Brooke part of her comment. “That was always the plan. Waverly is home.”
I just shrugged. I didn’t want to talk about this.
“Well, Cami, how are you adjusting to life back in town?” Mom asked, giving Cami a pleasant smile.
“I’m really happy to be back,” Cami said. “There were things I loved about Chicago, but I realized life in the big city isn’t for me.”
“No, you’re a Waverly girl at heart,” Mom said. “You’re right where you ought to be.”
Cami nodded and her eyes flicked to me. “I think as we grow up, we learn more about what we want in life, and it isn’t always what we once thought.”
“So very true,” Mom said. “It’s perfectly normal to experiment a little when you’re young. Maybe go off to college, or live somewhere new. Make new friends. But home always brings you back if you let it—back to the people you’re meant to be with.”
For fuck’s sake, this was ridiculous. My mom couldn’t have invited Cami in an attempt to get the two of us back together. But the way she kept looking at Cami, then at me—and ignoring Brooke—made it really fucking obvious that was exactly what she was doing.
I squeezed Brooke’s thigh under the table, then grabbed the half-empty bread basket and stood. “I think we need more bread. Mom, can you come help me with that?”
She opened her mouth like she was going to say the basket wasn’t empty, but I leveled her with a hard stare. Plastering on another smile, she put her napkin aside and stood.
I stalked into the kitchen and tossed the basket on the counter, then led her into Dad’s den. I didn’t want everyone at the table to hear this.
“What is going on?” I asked, keeping my voice low. “Why is she here?”
“Cami?” Mom asked. “She moved back to Waverly recently. I thought it would be nice for all of us to reconnect.”
“Did you forget what she did?” I asked. “I know you’re friends with her mom and you never wanted to say anything bad about her. But she left me when I really needed her. That doesn’t bother you?”
“That was a difficult time for everyone,” she said. “And people grow up and mature. They change.”
“So I’m supposed to overlook the fact that she bailed on me because she couldn’t handle it when things got hard?” I asked.
“She was young,” Mom said.
“I can’t believe you’re making excuses for her,” I said. “You, of all people. I was dying, Mom. If she was the person I was meant to be with, she would have stayed.”
Mom took a deep breath. “I know, honey. I was angry at Cami for a long time, too. It put a lot of strain on my friendship with her mother. But she came to me recently and we had a very long talk. She deeply regrets what she did, and she wants the chance to apologize to you.”
“I’m not angry at Cami,” I said. “And it’s nice that she wants to apologize. That’s fine, I don’t hold a grudge against her. I moved on. But if you think you’re going to orchestrate some kind of reunion that’s going to lead to me dating her again, you need to get that out of your head right now.”
“Well—”
“Mom,” I said, cutting her off. “My girlfriend is sitting at the table across from her. I didn’t bring Brooke to dinner because I wanted a pretty date. Have I brought a single girl home since I got better? No, not one. Because I was never serious about anyone. I’m serious about Brooke. I’m in love with that woman and you better get used to it, because if I have my way, she’s going to be around for a very long time.”
“Honey,” she said in a soothing tone that was really getting on my nerves, “I can understand why you’re interested in Brooke. She probably seems very exciting. But she’s not the kind of girl you settle down with.”
“Sebastian, you’ve been through a lot,” she said. “But your illness is behind us now. Things are back to normal. You can finish school and move back here to work with your father. I’m sure Brooke is a very nice girl, but I don’t see how she fits in with your plans.”
I’d never been so angry at my mother. My back tightened and I balled my hands into fists. I needed to get out of here before I said something I’d regret. “Mom, I love you, but I’m leaving.”
“Sebastian…”
She tried to say more, but I was already walking back to the dining room. Everyone looked up from the table, staring at me in alarm. Except Charlie. He still wore that smart-ass smirk of his.
“Let’s go.”
Charlie’s face sobered and he nodded, touching Olivia’s elbow as he stood. Brooke bit her lip, her eyebrows drawing together with concern, but she got up and followed me toward the front door.
“Sebastian, where are you going?” Dad called from the table.
I didn’t answer. There was no way I was letting them disrespect my woman like that. I should have turned around and walked out the second I saw Cami. That was my mistake, and I’d apologize to Brooke for it when I was calm. For now, I just needed to get us the fuck out of here.
We piled into my car and I pulled out onto the street. I gripped the steering wheel and ground my teeth, anger flowing like liquid silver in my veins.
“Sorry,” I said.
Charlie acknowledged me with a silent nod. I didn’t have to say anything else. He understood me.
Brooke reached out and touched my leg. I took her hand and brought it to my lips. Placed a hard kiss on the back of it. I twined my fingers with hers and squeezed, trusting that she understood. I wasn’t angry with her. I just needed time to calm down.
If my parents thought Brooke was some kind of experiment—a phase I’d outgrow—they had another thing coming.
29
Brooke
We spent the long drive back from Waverly in silence. Charlie and Olivia spoke to each other in hushed whispers in the back seat, but other than that, it was quiet. Sebastian was tense, his bulging muscles flexed and rigid, the veins in his forearms protruding. Heat emanated from his body, like his blood was actually boiling. Under different circumstances, it would have been sexy as hell.
He held my hand, kissing the back of it now and then, letting me know he wasn’t upset with me. He didn’t need to say it. I understood.
That had been one of the most uncomfortable situations of my entire life. I’d known without Sebastian telling me that Cami had to be his ex. There was no mistaking the way he’d looked at her. I didn’t know much about her, or what had happened between them, except that she’d left him when he’d been sick.
I hated her for it.
It wasn’t the general dislike a woman might have for her boyfriend’s ex. It didn’t bother me that he had a girl in his past, even one he’d been serious about. What made me hate her was knowing she’d abandoned him when he’d been weak.
And now that he was strong again, she wanted him back.
That was perfectly clear. She hadn’t been at dinner because she was an old friend who wanted to see how Sebastian was doing. Or to catch up after years apart. I knew a thirsty girl when I saw one.
But the worst part had been Sebastian’s mother. An ex-girlfriend who thought she might have another chance was one thing. A mom who had orchestrated the meeting, obviously thinking her son would come alone, was another. She’d invited Cami because she wanted Sebastian to get back together with her. Even knowing he was with me.
Made it obvious what she thought of me—and my relationship with her son.
The first time we’d met, I’d been one step away from homelessness, sporting a black eye and a split lip. I knew what she must think. I was trash—not good enough for her son. It wasn’t because I wore beaded bracelets, peasant blouses, and boots. Although maybe if I’d come over in a cardigan buttoned up to my neck and a modest skirt that hung below my knees, like a good little Iowa girl, she would have thought twice about judging me.
But it wasn’t just the way I dressed or my lack of a manicure—though I’d seen her notice that too. She didn’t need to know the details of my past to see it. She could tell. Some people just could. I didn’t know how to explain it, but sometimes I encountered people who could read my past. As if the story of my fucked-up life was tattooed on my skin. Often it was because they shared a similar history—a child of an addict or an abusive parent recognizing a kindred spirit. But others took one look at me and knew I’d grown up poor and neglected—and instantly looked down on me for it.
Mrs. McKinney had done just that. She’d done it the first time we’d met, when her eyes had widened with alarm at the thought that her son was associating with that kind of girl. And she was doing it now—even to the point of attempting to sabotage our relationship by getting Sebastian to hook up with his ex.
It made me sick to my stomach. I didn’t want to cause a rift between Sebastian and his family. But it was probably too late.
We dropped off Charlie and Olivia at the guys’ place, then drove the short distance to my house. We went inside, and as soon as the door closed behind us, he grabbed me with rough hands and kissed me. I melted against him, draping my arms around his thick neck. Raised up on my tip-toes and pressed my body against his.
He held me tight, his kiss hard and aggressive. Filled with the anger coursing through him—turning rage into lust and desire. I could feel the urgency in his thick muscles, in his tight biceps and flexing chest.
“I love you,” he growled into my ear, backing me up toward my bedroom. “I love you and I’m sorry.”
His mouth on mine cut off my reply. There would be time for talking later.
In my room, we yanked off our clothes, but he stopped me from taking off my boots. He slipped my panties down over them, then turned me around and bent me over the side of the bed.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” he said.
I looked back at him while he got out a condom and rolled it on. His hard length stood up straight, protruding from his lean hips. He had the perfect amount of hair on his broad chest—enough to make him look manly and powerful—and the sexiest happy trail running down his lower abs. The veins in his arms stood out and his mesmerizing eyes roved over me.
“I’ve wanted to fuck you in those boots since I watched you put them on,” he said.
He slid his hand down the center of my ass until his fingers brushed across my opening. I practically vibrated at the light touch. He put pressure on my clit and rubbed slowly while his other hand gripped my hip, holding me in place. I tried to arch back, to make him give me more, but he held me fast.
“I know, baby,” he said. “You want my cock, don’t you? You want me inside you.”
“Yes.”
He rubbed faster and my eyes rolled back. He knew exactly where to touch me to make me insane. Slipping his fingers into my pussy, he groaned.
“That’s my girl,” he said. “So wet for me. I’m going to fuck you so hard, baby. Are you ready for this?”
“Oh my god, yes,” I said.
In one quick movement, he took out his fingers, grabbed hold of my hips with both hands, and thrust his cock in. I called out at the abruptness of it. The fury. He held tight, his fingers digging into my flesh, and plunged into me—hard. Over and over. His hips drove his thick cock in and out, his body slamming against mine.
I clutched the sheets for dear life, arching my back to take all of him in. His power and strength were overwhelming. I wanted him to take it all out on me—all his anger and frustration. I wanted to forget how I’d felt, wilting under his mother’s judgmental gaze. The humiliation and shame. The guilt. I wanted him to fuck it all out of me.
He was relentless. Fierce. Slamming me into the mattress, making the bed scrape across the floor. He gru
nted and growled with every thrust, his voice primal and raw. No one had ever done this to me before—fucked me with so much passion and intensity. I didn’t know how much more I could take, but I never wanted it to stop.
The heat in my core built, almost to the breaking point. Tension mounted, like a rubber band being pulled tight. Just when I was about to plunge over the cliff, he slowed. His grip eased and his thrusts relaxed.
He pulled out and turned me over. I backed up onto the bed and he climbed on top of me. His breathing was ragged and he was covered in a sheen of sweat. It glistened off the hard lines of his body, accentuating every angle and curve. His eyes held mine and I watched as they went from glassy and unfocused to piercing, all that intensity trained on me.
His cock slid in again. Gentle, this time. Slow, powerful thrusts had me riding the edge of climax, the mind-numbing pleasure soaking through me. With our eyes locked, we moved together, a slow dance of bodies teeming with heat. With tension and passion. A moment of connection that filled the space in my chest, once left hollow. Filled it to bursting.
I felt his cock thicken inside me and I knew he was close. Desperate for release, I clutched at his back, grinding my hips into him with each thrust. He wouldn’t break eye contact, the fierceness in his gaze demanding I do the same. He could see through to my soul, see every bit of me. I was more naked and exposed than I’d ever been, my whole self on display.
His brow furrowed and his back stiffened. He drove harder, and the first pulse of his orgasm sent me careening off the edge. I burst into flame, hot sparks lighting up every inch of my body. My senses ceased to function, my brain only processing the almost violent waves of pleasure.
The magnitude of it left me gasping, clinging to him. He tucked his face against my neck, his breath hot against my skin. We held each other, sweat mingling, bodies pressed together. Soaking in the moment.
He lifted himself up and brushed my tangled hair from my face. His kisses were gentle—reverent. Our eyes met and the fullness in my chest almost brought tears to my eyes.
“I’m sorry for what happened,” he said. “It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. All that matters is us.”