by Carter Blake
I know damn well I only go there and submit myself to those flashing lights and thumping speakers in the hopes that she’ll show up, but she hasn’t.
In two weeks, I haven’t caught a glimpse of her, yet I see her everywhere. Every dark-haired beauty in the club is her until they turn around, and every mischievous, seductive grin reminds me of the way her lips turned upward as her fingers grazed my bare chest and shoulders.
Fuck.
It’s been eating away at me that she took off the way she did. Not so much because I’d never had a casual encounter like that with anyone, but because it didn’t seem so casual after the fact.
You’re reading too much into it. Be a man, Cam. She wanted a quick fuck; that’s all you were.
I know I have to accept it, that it meant nothing to her.
But how does one fake something that?
I mean, I understand that sex is just sex, a biological reaction. An innate response to physical attraction.
But, damn it, there was something in her eyes.
And that can’t be faked.
Hell, on one hand, I feel like I need to turn this city upside down and find her. On the other hand, maybe I’m just being a total fucking girl about the whole thing.
We fucked, and now its over. Simple as that.
I just wish I believed it.
“Go pick up some Chinese takeout. I’m starving.” Danny’s back is to me as he pulls a stack of papers from a file in the top drawer of the cabinet. “I’ll sort these out the best I can while you’re gone.”
“You know, for business partners, you tend to do a lot of barking orders, and I tend to do a lot of listening to the shit you say.” But I’m already reaching for my keys while I say it, smirking faintly.
“And why the fuck do you think this setup works so well, man?” Danny chuckles.
I shuffle into my jacket. It’s close to five in the evening, and between the accounts payable shit and the liquor order, we’ve barely seen the light of day at all today. At this point, I’m more than happy to get out of the office for a few minutes before we have to start sifting through resumés.
“Don’t try to butter me up,” I quip. “I’m still thinking about selling my share of the business, Danny.”
He tosses the pile of papers on the desk and holds his hands up in surrender. “Wouldn’t dream of it. But I’ll say it again. This place wouldn’t be the same without you.”
“And I’ll say it again. I haven’t decided whether I want to or not.”
“Which is why I’ll continue to butter you up, so you remember how fucking great it is here with me.”
“Is that the kind of shit you tell your flavors of the week? How fucking great you are?”
“I don’t have to. They’re fully aware, my friend.”
I scoff jokingly. “Christ, no wonder they don’t stick around.”
“Fuck off, and go buy the Chinese food, will you?” he laughs.
I scramble out the door and into my Ford F150 before Danny has the chance to retaliate, and I’m still chuckling to myself as I pull my truck out of the parking lot and head toward the grocery store.
Yeah, that’s right. To hell with Danny’s Chinese food request. That shit isn’t exactly the smartest nutritional choice, and seeing as we’ve been holed up in the office all day with only a couple pots of coffee to sustain us, I’m going to be the voice of reason here and say we require more than salt-laden takeout food.
I love Danny, I really do. But, damn it, sometimes he makes the worst decisions. Not just in food choices, but in business, too. And in life. The thing with Danny, though, is that he always gets himself out of whatever jam his reckless mouth and bad-boy ways get him into. He’s notorious for his one-nighters with women he doesn’t remember the names of, and just as known for his love of partying.
I’d never begrudge him that; it’s his choice. And it’s never affected the nightclub, so I really can’t say anything beyond the jokes and burning comments I throw at him on the fly.
But Danny and I are different. He lives for the wild life, the women, and the city lights at night.
I’m still a few years away from thirty, but be damned if I’m not hoping for a simpler life than that someday.
Which is why I want out. I think. Maybe.
Danny is willing to buy out my half of the bar, and I know he’ll stand behind me no matter what I decide.
But he doesn’t want me to do it.
And, frankly, part of me is scared to leave Danny alone with the responsibilities of that place.
But he’s a big boy. I can’t babysit him forever.
That doesn’t make the decision any easier, though.
I wheel the truck into the grocery store parking lot and head inside. It takes all of three minutes to find the deli and grab a couple sandwiches, salads, and bottles of water.
“Long time, no see.”
Blood begins to pound in my ears. Just the sound of her voice makes my insides clench.
I turn around slowly, half expecting her to be a figment of my imagination. I hadn’t heard from her in months.
“Christina.” I say her name like it’s foreign to me. Hell, I wish it was.
“How are you, Cam?” My ex-girlfriend stands there, smiling sweetly, her head tilted coyly. “Haven’t seen you around.”
“Funny how that happens when you admit to fucking some asshole from your office.” I shouldn’t even humor her, but I can’t help the disdainful words. She really did a number on me with that one.
Christina’s bottom lip juts out, and I swear I can see her trying to resist the urge to roll her eyes. “C’mon, I said I was sorry. We all make mistakes.”
Her hand reaches out and touches my forearm gently, and I pull away as though burned.
Christina is gorgeous, and she knows it. And she’s always been the type to use her big blue eyes and her ample cleavage to coax people into doing whatever she wants. In hindsight, I see now that she used those tactics on me, too.
“Screwing someone for months is not a mistake, Chris. Waiting to tell me the moment after I fucking proposed is not a mistake. Poor goddamn timing, perhaps, but definitely not a mistake.”
This time, she does roll her eyes.
I should walk away, but I’m somehow planted where I stand.
“I miss you,” she croons, and I’m both baffled and horrified when she closes the gap between us and hugs me.
Maybe it’s the familiarity of her touch, or the pure incomprehension of the gesture, but I let her. I’m unable to bring myself to pull away from her a second time, though every fiber of my being screams that I should.
“You wrecked me, Christina,” I mutter against the side of her neck, my body relaxing into hers. “You really did.”
“You know I’m sorry,” she states, but there’s an edge in the way she says it. Like she’s annoyed with me.
And, no, actually I don’t know she’s sorry, because that’s the one damn thing she didn’t say after she admitted what she’d done and walked out of my life.
And that realization snaps me back into some semblance of reasonable thinking.
What the hell am I doing?
I pull back slightly, but she holds on.
“Cam, we need to start over—”
“You have got to be fuck—”
I stop, the words stuck in my throat. If Christina is looking at me, I no longer see her.
Because behind her, over by the produce section, is Elise.
Elise.
“Cam?”
Christina’s voice pierces through the pulse pounding in my ears. “Start over with Rob, or Rod, or whatever his damn name is, because it’s over between us,” I state, and I pull out of her grasp a little more forcefully than I mean to, side-stepping around her.
I hear her scoff at my reaction, but she’s barely even on my radar anymore. I don’t even look back at her, as I come up behind Elise. Keeping a courteous distance, afraid to spook her, I speak as softly as I would
to a skittish child.
“I didn’t think I’d see you again.”
Elise’s hand is still on the cantaloupe in front of her as she turns toward me. Recognition kicks in, and her eyes widen.
She obviously didn’t expect to see me again, either.
“I…hey…” She runs her hand through her dark hair, and I quickly feel guilty for being the cause of the uncertainty in her eyes.
“Hey,” I say with a small grin, hoping to calm her a bit. “I’m not here to—”
“Who’s this?”
Christina, never one to give up, barges up beside me, interlocking her arm in mine as she looks Elise up and down like some stray I just brought home from the shelter.
I see Elise’s gaze land on the grip Christina’s cat-like claws have on me, and without thinking, I toss my arm back in an attempt to get her away from me, which results in the sandwiches, salads, and bottled water in my arms to fall to the floor. The plastic containers crack open on impact, leaving the tiled floor of the store littered with lettuce and other vegetables, in a pool of water.
“What the hell, Christina?” I bark. The last thing I mean to do here is make a scene, but fuck! “I have nothing more to say to you!”
I’m not sure whose eyes are wider, hers or Elise’s. Or the scattered other customers who’ve stopped in their tracks, all too eager to see what all the commotion is about.
“But Cammy—”
“Jesus Christ, do you really think I’ll just pretend like you didn’t fu—” I clear my throat, reining in my voice that now booms from within me. “Like you didn’t do what you did? We’re done here, Christina.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Elise take a hesitant step back. Then another.
I turn to her. “No, you stay. We’re not done.”
I hold her gaze, then add, “Please.”
She doesn’t back away any further, but she doesn’t draw nearer either. She listens, though, so that’s a good sign.
Fairly certain she won’t leave, I turn back to Christina, who’s still standing there with her jaw slack.
I don’t blame her.
Never once in the years that we were together did I ever raise my voice.
“Why are you still here?” I lower onto one knee and start to try to pick up the salad that’s all over the damn place.
A gasp leaves her lips, and it’s my turn to roll my eyes. “Don’t be so goddamn surprised that the world doesn’t revolve around you, Chris. It just took me too long to realize it.” I glance up at her. “Now, go on. I mean it. We’re done here.”
At least I manage to sound more civilized. That’s a feat in itself when all I want to do is scream at her and announce to the whole damn store what a bitch move she made. I finish picking up the lettuce pieces and rise to my feet, only to realize that Christina is gone.
Elise is still there, though, rooted in the exact place I told her to stay. She’s watching me closely, and seems more inquisitive now than uncertain.
“You okay?” she asks, surprising me.
I wipe my hands on my jeans. “Funny, I wanted to ask you the same question.”
“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”
I lean in, whispering with a grin. “You took off and never came back. What kind of conclusion am I supposed to make?”
The uncertainty is back in her eyes, but only for a moment. “Maybe that I wasn’t interested in seeing you again?”
I should be offended. Or maybe, I should want to agree, and say I didn’t want to see her again either, just to maintain some level of dignity.
I toss the container in my hand onto the produce rack beside me and step closer to her. “I don’t believe that, though,” I say simply. “And frankly, I don’t think you do, either.”
The sharp intake of her breath I hear so lightly is the only answer I need to know I’m right.
“You don’t know what I’m thinking,” she says, but it’s a weak attempt at defiance.
Boldly, I reach out and touch my index finger to her chin, making her gasp softly again.
“I’ve got a pretty damn good idea,” I whisper, my eyes locked on hers. I’ll bet my life savings that her mind is replaying the overwhelming sensations that overcame her as I moved within her.
I’d been doing the same thing for two weeks.
“I should go,” she says hoarsely, but her eyes stay fixated on me.
“Don’t,” I state. “Don’t run again.”
I see her throat move as she swallows the lump in her throat. “You don’t know me, Cam.”
“But I want to.” My thumb grazes across her jaw, eliciting a sigh from within her. “Let me.”
For a moment, I can’t tell if she’s going to cry or melt into my arms. Then her eyes squeeze shut, and when she reopens them, she’s composed herself.
“I can’t,” she says.
I want to ask her why she could let me fuck her within a few hours of meeting, and yet she can’t let me get to know her beyond that, but I choke the words down. Thankfully, my tact has returned since my outburst at Christina. “Sure, you can,” I say instead.
Gently, Elise turns her head, pulling away from my touch. “Who was that?” She nods in the direction that Christina must have gone.
“My ex,” I say simply.
“Your ex,” she repeats, as though giving me a chance to retract my statement. When I don’t, she nods, still staring off toward the automatic doors of the store. “I have an ex, too.”
“We all do, darling,” I chuckle. “Sometimes, we’ve got to go through the ‘bad’ so that we know how good the ‘good’ really is when it comes along.”
Elise turns back to me. Her eyes seem to take me in, from my scuffed loafers to my plaid shirt that covers the white t-shirt stretched across my chest—a far cry from the well-dressed, well-groomed businessman she screwed two weeks ago.
“What are you doing right now?” she asks suddenly.
I’m surprised by her question, but be damned if I’m not going to use it to the best of my advantage. This might be my only shot. If she leaves now, there’s no telling when, or if, I’ll ever see her again.
A small smirk creeps across my face. “Whatever you tell me to, Elise.”
Chapter 7
ELISE
The words fall from my tongue before I have a chance to think them through. It’s been so long since I’ve wanted the company of another man beyond the physical sense, and the realization that I want his company almost paralyzes me.
But it’s too late. I’ve already initiated something. If I back out now, I’ve only given him the leeway he and his persistent mind need to further pursue me.
And part of me wants him to do just that—pursue me, convince me…not give up on me.
That thought paralyzes me even more, so I push it into the furthest depths of my mind, not willing to contemplate it.
“I, uh…I’m free now, if you want to go for coffee…or something.”
Or something. Yeah, something along the lines of caressing my skin with his callused fingertips the way I still so vividly remember.
The way he moved against me, with me, inside me. Just a flash of such memories makes a liquid heat pool within me. And seeing him now, so casually dressed, so comfortable, I’d love nothing more than to pull that tight t-shirt over his head and run my hands down his chiseled chest.
Stop it, Elise. My God, this is what he does to me. What he’s been doing to me for the past two weeks. Just the mere thought of him…
A wickedly triumphant grin crosses Cam’s face. “Coffee’s perfect. We’ll take my truck.”
“I can just meet you—”
“My truck, or I’ll follow you. I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
I stare him down. Unfortunately, I don’t have the guts to admit that I don’t even have a vehicle for him to follow. And admitting that I’d have to take the bus would only fortify his stance. “Fine. Let me pay for these things and I’ll meet you and your destroyed groceries at
the front entrance.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
The truck ride to the nearest Starbucks is nothing short of awkward. Cam doesn’t coerce me to talk, so I don’t. But I have a feeling he’s saving whatever he has to say until we sit down with our oversized cups of caffeine.
I’m not wrong.
“So, Elise, tell me why you ran from me,” he says, just moments after I get my chair pulled in.
“You really cut to the chase, don’t you?” I reply, slightly annoyed.
He quirks an eyebrow, leaning in close and lowering his voice. “Isn’t that kind of what we did by having sex first before getting to know each other?”
He grins devilishly, and I press my thighs together as my gaze zeroes in on his perfect lips. I lean in, and our faces are mere inches from each other. “I thought we did get to know each other while we were grinding against each other on the dance floor beforehand,” I whisper back with a smile. Two can play his game.
It only makes him smile wider. “That was foreplay, darling, not getting to know one another. But I like the way you think.”
I roll my eyes, focusing on my drink. His eyes are too damned intense.
Cam pulls himself away, leaning back in his chair. “Seriously, tell me why you left that night. You at least owe me that much, don’t you?”
“I don’t owe you anything,” I bite back. “It was just sex, Cam.”
“Was it?” His eyes shine with humor. “If that’s all it was, we wouldn’t be sitting here right now. You’d have told me to go to hell when I approached you in the grocery store.”
“Maybe that’s what I want to do, but I’m just trying to be nice instead.”
He leans forward on his elbows, ignoring his coffee. “I don’t think that’s what you want to do at all. And I know I don’t want you to.”
I laugh hollowly, my defenses rising. “Oh, this should be good. All right, enlighten me. What do I want to do right now?”
His smirk is back, his eyes bright. “You want to get to know me. You want to see if we’re really as good together as we were that night. You’re curious.”
I shake my head at his audacity. “I am, am I? And is that it?”
