Peace of Infinity

by Maegan Abel

  His gaze flicked over my face and chest before he groaned and pushed away, backing up to his knees. He closed his eyes, his brows pulling in as he rubbed a hand over his head. “Yeah. I’m serious.”

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” I sat up, my head still spinning from either the tequila or him—probably both. “You’re like three seconds away from getting in my pants and that’s it?” My body locked in place as I tried to force myself to retreat.

  His hands tightened into fists on his legs before he nabbed my tank from the floor and laid it beside me without looking in my direction. “I don’t want to get in your pants.” After a second of silence, he sighed and finally looked over at me again. “I don’t only want to get in your pants,” he amended.

  I tugged the fabric over my head and pulled it down to my waist while his words settled around me. Scoffing, I tossed my hands to the sides. “What does that even mean?”

  He stood, putting distance between us as he backed to the wall, allowing it to take his weight. His gaze stayed on the floor and he shook his head, letting out a long sigh. It cut into me and I worried for a brief moment if his disappointment was aimed at me, but quickly brushed away the concern. I didn’t care if it was. That didn’t matter.

  Well, it shouldn’t matter.

  But I was being rejected and for some stupid reason, it felt like something was clawing at my insides. I pushed the thought aside, refusing to let him see that he’d hurt me.

  “It means sex isn’t what I want this…” he gestured between us, “to be about. I want…fuck.”

  “I offered you a fuck,” I snapped, hating that my tone only served to prove he was affecting me.

  He shook his head, not meeting my eyes as he paced away from me. Making it the length of the small living room in just a few strides, he laced his fingers behind his head. I watched the muscles in his back flex, admiring the line of his shoulders and the curve of his biceps. He was extraordinary and that made it so much worse. The clawing pain turned into a stab, a twisting knife in my chest, and I swallowed hard to relieve the ache. He paused and stared at a photo of Cara and I on the wall. I had both arms tight around her at her high school graduation. I remembered that evening. She’d just told me she was leaving Portland. When he spoke again, I jumped, having forgotten we were in the middle of a conversation. “I want real.” His eyes were on me, watching me closely. “You’re afraid of it and that’s okay. We can work through that. But you have to give us a chance.”

  My hands were trembling and I wrapped them around my stomach as if they could keep me from falling apart. That was too much. He couldn’t know how far in he already was. I told myself not to panic, but the bone-deep chill made me shiver. I couldn’t even remember why I thought inviting him over was a good idea. I needed to rectify this mistake and it had to be now.

  “Okay, now you’ve really got to be kidding me. I’ll make this simple. I’m not a relationship kind of girl, Gavin—especially not with you.” Easy enough to say. That part was all true. “All I wanted was a good lay.” Somewhat true, but there was definitely more to it. Push through, Evie. “If that’s not good enough for you, there’s the door.” I pointed across the room, though something in me felt like it would rip apart if he left right now. I didn’t want him to go, which was exactly why he needed to go.

  He stared at me and I watched several emotions play across his features before his expression became perfectly blank. I didn’t like that look. Not even a little. It twisted my stomach to the point where I thought I might be sick. He reached down and tagged his shirt from the floor and I stared as long as I could at the perfection of his body before the cotton covered it.

  “You’re full of shit.” The declaration made my head snap up as well as my guard. “You know you are, and now, you know I know it too.” His voice was low and even, his face still void of emotion, but I could see plenty swarming behind those dark eyes.

  “Fuck what you think you know about me. You’re wrong,” I lied, flat out and without any guilt. He could see right through me and it made me want to run. “You’re nothing more than a walking orgasm and there are plenty of others without all the complications.” The last word may have come out as more of a sneer. Fuck. Why couldn’t I control this shit when I was around him?

  Simple. Because everything about what he wanted terrified the ever-loving shit out of me.

  “Keep pushing me away,” he said, shaking his head as he crossed his arms over that wide expanse of chest. “I’ll keep forcing my way back in.” The flicker in his eyes this time left me feeling dizzy. I couldn’t place it, but whatever it was felt like a challenge and it resonated in the deepest parts of me.

  “You’re wasting your time.” My voice was breathy and his eyes darkened in response.

  When he crossed the room toward me again, my brain went fuzzy at the thought of his lips, his body, his heat… I closed my eyes and his lips brushed my forehead. “Goodnight, Evangelie.” I blinked and my eyes focused on his back as he walked away. Before I could process what was happening, the door closed behind him.

  He hadn’t even looked back.

  “Fuck. Me,” I muttered, my libido in shock at the nearly quenched thirst, but something more than my body felt empty—something deep inside me that was much, much scarier. “What did I just do?”

  I opened myself up. That’s what I did. How could I have been so stupid?

  There was the vague feeling of the weight pressing down on my chest, the mixture of longing and anxiety, that told me he was gone. I fucking hated that feeling. I snatched the open bottle of tequila and heard Stitch’s whimper as I tipped it back.

  Drink myself unconscious.

  That was the only way to deal.

  I blinked slowly, somewhere in that odd space of realizing I was awake when I thought I was still dreaming. It took a second to get my bearings in the pitch-black room, but when I heard a soft sniffle that sounded like it was directly beside me, I remembered climbing into bed. Barely. I sat up, listening intently as I tried to clear the fog of sleep and the next sound I heard was a shuddering inhale.

  As quietly as I could, I made my way to the door and peered into the dark hallway. The only light was coming from the microscopic bathroom separating the two bedrooms and I debated whether to make my presence known or continue waiting. I heard fumbling and then a small sob, something between pain and aggravation, and my decision was made.

  “Cara Beara?” I asked in a whisper, tapping against the door with the pads of my fingers, even though I wanted to pound and make her open it. I heard a sharp inhale from the other side, but nothing else. “You know I’m not going away. Open up.”

  The lock clicked and as soon as it did, I turned the knob, pushing my way in. Cara was sitting on the lid of the toilet, her head to the side as she focused on wrapping the elastic bandage around her wrist. “Sorry I woke you,” she mumbled, her lips barely moving. It was then I realized the unnatural tilt of her neck was to hold an ice pack to her jaw while she worked.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I asked in a tone that gave away just how murderous I was feeling.

  “What?” she asked, meeting my eyes, her face in a perfect expression of shock. I saw straight through it.

  “What?” I repeated, incredulous. I knelt in the minuscule space in front of her and pulled the ice pack away, ignoring the precision with which she finished the wrap. “Cara—”

  “I tripped coming up the stairs. I forgot to turn on the porch light before I left and it was dark. I had a few drinks and—”

  “Bullshit.”

  “No,” she started, but her voice broke. She licked her lips, her pupils dilating as she reached out to grab ahold of my forearm, trying to keep it together. “I’m serious. I fell and when I caught myself, I—”

  “One more chance,” I interrupted, raising an eyebrow as I fisted the ice pack, ready to throw it across the room in frustration.

  “What?”

  “You have one more cha
nce to tell me the truth,” I said, watching as her eyes narrowed on mine.

  “I am telling the truth—”

  “I turned on the porch light when I went out to smoke earlier and left it on in case you came home,” I said, my voice flat, tossing the ice pack on her lap and crossing my arms.

  “I can’t believe you’re still smoking.”

  “Nuh-uh. We’re not talking about me right now. We’re talking about you.” I sighed when she dropped her head, toying with the edge of the elastic bandage.

  Her eyes narrowed, her look dark. “You’ve got the wrong idea. Leave it alone, Evie.” With that, she grabbed the ice pack and slipped past me, slamming her bedroom door behind her.

  “Mother fuck,” I muttered, heading back to the other room. I always had the wrong idea when it came to the slimeballs Cara dated, but it had never been this bad.

  As much as I hated Hawk Bay, it looked like I wasn’t going anywhere for a while.

  I spent three days studiously ignoring every phone call and text from Gavin, even going so far as to change his name in my phone to FUCK WEASEL. I also wouldn’t have answered the door, but that didn’t matter since he hadn’t bothered stopping by. We both knew I’d given up something when I’d called to invite him over and the fact that he stopped things meant he thought he was holding the power. I couldn’t have that. Actually, I couldn’t have any of this. I needed to focus on the Cara situation and figure out where I was going from here. The faster I left Hawk Bay, the better off I’d be.

  In keeping with this plan, I went job hunting. I needed cash flow if I wanted to stay comfortable for much longer. I had my meager savings, but if I planned to move to a place like New York, I would need every dime of that, and then some.

  Since I’d overheard the servers complaining about being understaffed, the first place I went was Hawk Bay Diner. I wasn’t picky about what I did as long as I could make money. Luck just happened to be on my side when I applied. The manager hired me on the spot. The shift they needed covered was mainly afternoons, which worked out perfectly because it left my evenings free to go find all sorts of trouble.

  And that was exactly what I intended to do tonight.

  Gavin’s departure from my living room left me with a need I had to fulfill. I didn’t want things getting messy and complicated, but I didn’t plan to stay here long and a good fuck never hurt anyone.

  At least not anyone I knew.

  And that led me to Charleston.

  It was always best to get away from where you lived to party. Keeping yourself separate was key. I’d done a little online research and found an area housing several clubs and bars in a row, which would work perfectly—if things dried up at one, I could move on to another.

  It didn’t work out that way, though. The very first stop I made, I saw him. He was blond, and not my normal type at all, but there was something about him that drew my attention. I tried to pinpoint what it was, but every time his eyes met mine, they slipped away quickly, almost nervously, and I wondered if that had something to do with it. Was I trying to avoid my common “mistakes”?

  It wasn’t until he came up to me at the bar and started buying me drinks that my curiosity at the anomaly turned to unease. When he moved in closer, resting a hand low on the skin of my back left exposed in my favorite little black dress, the unease heightened to discomfort. What made it worse was I couldn’t figure out why. It wasn’t really him specifically, but something about his presence.

  Finally, I walked away, using the excuse of needing the restroom before disappearing and moving on to the next place.

  And the next.

  I found several guys worthy of at least a one-night stand, but something felt off, and the further I got into the night, the sicker I felt. It pissed me off. My body was craving the release of sex, but something was holding me back.

  Or someone.

  Which was even more frustrating.

  Deciding tonight wasn’t my night, I headed back to my car and blew out of Charleston. I wasn’t more than a mile into the city limits of Hawk Bay when lights nearly blinded me from behind. Then the siren rang out and I quickly debated the likelihood of it being Gavin. With the way my evening had gone, the odds were against me. Still, I held on to the hope of it at least being a male cop so I could try to flirt my way out of the ticket. Or, hey, if he was hot, maybe I’d kill two birds with one stone.

  As I sat on the side of the road, waiting forever for the cop to approach my car, that sick feeling came back. He turned on the spotlight and my head started pounding when it shone directly into my eyes from my side mirror. I leaned forward and rested my head on my steering wheel while I waited, nearly jumping out of my skin when the knock finally came.

  I glanced over and when I saw a familiar pair of dark eyes wearing a less familiar irritated expression, I sighed in relief and rolled down my window. “Thank fuck it’s you.”

  His irritation darkened into anger. “So, now you want to acknowledge my existence?”

  I swallowed hard. He had me there. “I wasn’t ignoring your existence, just your calls and texts. It’s not like you came by,” I tried, lifting my chin as I went with uppity. I should’ve known better.

  “Because coming to your place worked out so well for me last time.” The way his eyes narrowed twisted something inside me into an almost painful knot.

  No.

  Fuck no.

  He was throwing what happened back at me like I’d done something wrong. He was the asshole who left. I glowered back at him.

  “Listen, Officer Fuck Weasel, you’re the one who walked out of my house when I was ready for action. You’re the one who couldn’t handle what I wanted. Stop blaming me.”

  His gaze hardened and he slowly assessed me. “Are you drunk, Evangelie?”

  “No,” I scoffed, scowling.

  “You were doing seventy when you hit the city limits. In a fifty. And you’ve been drinking,” he sighed and shook his head, clenching his jaw like he wanted to say more.

  “I’m not drunk,” I spat, having had enough. I shoved open my door, causing him to take a step back, and held both hands out to my sides. “You want me to do the sobriety test, let’s go.” I wasn’t lying on that front. I wasn’t drunk. I knew my limits well and I wasn’t stupid enough to get behind the wheel of a car when I was intoxicated.

  He stared at me for a moment and I felt my breathing stutter as his eyes lowered languidly. Grabbing the front of my dress at my stomach, his hand fisted in the material and he yanked me forward. Even on my heels, I was able to keep stable with the movement, but my body slammed into his. The move, as well as his proximity, made me a little dizzy.

  “This. Fucking. Dress.” His voice was a controlled growl and I barely stopped the moan that wanted so desperately to give me away. I took a breath, attempting to steady myself.

  “Do you want me to take it off?” I licked my lips deliberately and there was no control to the growl that followed.

  His hands burned a path along my skin, even through the material of my dress, as he wrapped his fingers around my hips. I leaned into him. “Ev.” It was a clear warning and, rule-breaker that I was, I chose to ignore it.

  “Are you going to cuff me?” I asked, trying to hide the quiver in my voice—and my lady bits—by giving him a playful smirk as I lifted my hands between us. I’d planned to flirt my way out of the ticket, I just didn’t realize how easy it would be.

  “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. I couldn’t help the small tremble as I watched his tongue come out and wet his lips before he swallowed. “I’ve missed you. Tomorrow night, you’re mine.”

  Reality check. Shit. I shook my head, unwilling to let him dictate the timeline. “I’m busy tomorrow.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Sunday,” he said in a tone that told me he wasn’t asking, and I didn’t really want to say no anyway.

  I did, however, need to make a point. “I haven’t changed my mind about what I want.”

  He moved forwar
d, finding a way to get closer. I backed up with his movements until I was against the rear door of my car, pinned between him and the unforgiving metal. “Then we’ll just do it your way until I can convince you otherwise.” He leaned his face closer and my eyes drifted shut. His lips just barely grazed mine before the heat of his body disappeared. “I’m following you home. Drive the fucking speed limit, Ev.”

  I blinked several times into the emptiness until a car door closed in the distance and turned as he shut off the spotlight on his cruiser, his smug grin clear without the blinding light.

  “Asshole,” I said, making sure I over-enunciated the word so he could read it on my lips.

  I could hear his laugh as I climbed back behind the wheel of my car, driving a little more cautiously with my police escort. Once I was in the driveway, Gavin waited in his cruiser and I took my time on the walk up to the house, sashaying just to be a tease. I half expected him to follow or at least say something, but he did neither. He waited until I closed the front door behind me and only then did I hear his car pull away.

  I’d made plans to spend the evening out with several of the guys from my graduating class. Most of us either stayed in Hawk Bay or gravitated back after college, so I still saw a good majority of the people I’d gone to school with. This night out was a regular thing for us and skipping it would’ve meant taking a lot of shit from them, especially since I dished out my share when they chose pussy over pals. It would’ve been worth it for Evie, though.

  She was playing games, but I couldn’t get her out of my head, and I wanted, more than anything, to find her and say to hell with waiting until tomorrow night. I needed to be inside her. After seeing her all dolled up, I almost hadn’t been able to stop myself. The one thing that had thrown a damper on it was my own fucking head.

  I was irritated when I caught her speeding, but it was the dress and hair and makeup that made me realize where she’d been. Thinking about Evie with other guys before she came here was something I did my absolute best to avoid. Thinking about Evie with other guys while she was here was enough to bring out the possessive side that only reared its ugly head when it came to this woman.