by C. M. Owens
“You had sex with her?” he asks in a whisper.
Rolling my eyes, I shake my head. “Didn’t have sex. I felt her hand on my face. Then on my chest. And no, not like that. I just… I actually felt her.”
He exhales heavily while whistling low. Dale is one of the few to know about my condition, even though he doesn’t know why I have it.
“Think your feeling is coming back?”
I shrug. “I think so, because I’ve been feeling more and more. But not until that day at the hospital when she patted my cheek.”
“You tell Rye?”
“You’re the first to know. Anyway, it’s got my head all messed up.”
He grunts while looking in her direction. “Your head is the problem,” he reminds me.
“Well aware of that,” I retort.
My eyes trail over her back as she chases another guy across the room, shuffling her feet hurriedly, treading the line of desperate. It’s a kick in the balls to see her crestfallen look when he ignores her.
“Make your move. I need another drink if I’m going to watch this show,” Dale says, smirking when I look back at him.
“I’m going to need a little more to drink before I take her on. She’s a fucking nightmare,” I grumble, grabbing another glass of champagne.
He chuckles under his breath. “Wren is going to kick your ass.”
Chapter 11
BELLA
After being ignored and pretty much avoided by all the rich people here, I finally give up, even though I’m trying not to cry. Most of them gave me the cards to their assistants to set up meetings that may or may not happen in the next three months.
Daniel doesn’t have three months. The longer we wait, the less likely the surgery will work.
My heart actually hurts by the time I sit down, but suddenly there’s a body filling in the space next to me. When I turn to look at who it is, my breath freezes in my lungs.
How can this be possible?
My eyes float down the tux he’s wearing too damn well, hiding all the tattoos that prove he’s not the ritzy man sitting before me. When my gaze comes back up, his lips tilt in a knowing smile, and I groan while sitting back.
“Surprised?” he asks, entertained.
“A little. What are you doing here?” I grumble.
“Donating to charity. You know, I’m selfless like that,” he answers, throwing my words back at me.
I glare over at him, but I’m too tired to be mad right now. And defeated.
“What surprises you more? That I’m not some broke loser asshole, or that you really like me in a tux?” he asks, devoid of any modesty.
Against all odds, I actually smile.
“So you’re a rich asshole instead of a broke one. I’m still not having sex with you, so carry on. Find someone else to bug. This place is full of women who would take you up on it.”
His smile falters until his lips flatten completely.
“What’s wrong? You’re lacking your usual bite.”
“I don’t feel like biting right now. Sorry. Can we do this some other time? Tonight just isn’t a good night for it.”
“Well, tell me how to make the night better. I prefer you feisty.”
“I don’t even know your last name,” I tell him, arching an eyebrow. “And you don’t know mine. This is all a little… weird.”
His lips etch back up in a taunting grin. “Your last name is Pierson. And you like choking on bananas when you’re demonstrating blowjobs.”
My jaw falls open, and then claps shut, then falls open again.
He snickers when I struggle to form words.
“My last name is Noles.”
My mind races over so many things at once before I groan loudly, piecing together the impossible puzzle.
“Ethan Noles? As in Tria’s cousin? As in Kade’s cousin? As in Wren’s cousin? As in every-freaking-body’s cousin?” I ask incredulously. Why oh why did I not get his last name sooner?
“Actually, I’m only related to Rain and Tria, but when we were kids and Tria called me her cousin, Kade and Wren also assumed we were all related, since they’re related to Tria as well. So we still claim each other.”
“I need a drink. This can’t be happening.”
He laughs under his breath while relaxing beside me. “I guess they forgot to warn you about me.”
“I guess so. I need to go.”
Hopeful he’ll leave me in peace, I start to stand, but he grabs my arm, gently holding me in place.
“Let me donate to the kid,” he says, all sense of cockiness gone as seriousness replaces the usual mischief in his eyes.
My brow furrows in confusion at the quick change in conversation, and then I close my eyes when I realize what he’s talking about. “How the hell do you know what I’m doing?” I ask as I open my eyes back up.
“Let me donate. Then you can—”
“Owe you?” I ask bitterly, more so than I have any right to at the moment. “No. I can’t.”
His lips twitch. “There’s that bite. But no, I don’t want you to owe me. I was going to say that then you could enjoy what’s left of the party instead of being upset in the corner alone.”
Ah, hell. Why’d he have to go and say that?
“I got enough contributors,” I lie, forcing a smile. “But thanks for the offer. Seriously.”
He nods while standing up, and I stand as well, since he’s no longer holding me in place. To my surprise, he grabs me and pulls me to him before he starts moving to the sound of the stringed quartet that is playing off to the side.
“What the hell are you doing?” I ask him, feeling his body press too close to mine.
“Dancing. I’m a damn good dancer.” He winks at me, and I stifle a stupid smile.
He really is, which only drives me a little crazier.
“Why are you such a stalker?” I ask him, slowly loosening up as he moves with me across the dance floor, holding me to him with graceful ease.
“Because you’re hard not to stalk,” he tells me with a cheeky grin.
Then… Then I do that stupid thing I’ve been trying not to do.
All it takes is one tug on the back of his neck, and he’s on me, his lips finding mine in a hungry collision that steals my breath and fills my lungs at the same time, hot and demanding. When his tongue slips in, I moan into his mouth, clutching his hair tighter as I kiss him like it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.
He tastes just like a bad decision on a perfect tequila night, and I’m lost, spiraling out of control as I kiss him even harder.
It’s just as incredible as I worried it would be, and my entire body crackles with sensations that have been dormant for far longer than I care to admit. His left hand tangles in my hair, struggling to get a hold in the pinned curls, while his other hand grips my hip with a need that matches my own.
A loud throat clearing is the only thing that brings me back to my senses, and I tear my lips away from his, breathing heavily as my head goes to his chest. His body is like stone, as though he’s unable to move, and I count to ten silently before pulling back.
Because things have gotten far too real, I do something even dumber.
“I can’t have a threesome with you!” I yell, watching as his eyebrows hit his hairline. “Despite what you think, it’s not my fantasy to be with two guys at once. Explore your sexuality on your own, and stop asking me to help! The last time, you only paid attention to the guy and you both acted like you forgot I was even there!”
He opens his mouth and closes it again as his eyes widen, and I wink while turning to walk away. Everyone is staring, but after learning what assholes they all are, I don’t care what they think about me.
But Ethan Noles will care. After all, he’s Sterling Shore royalty, and I just royally rocked his world with that little show.
Chapter 12
ETHAN
“So, I heard you want a threesome?” Leo, Tria’s business partner and friend asks me, sitting down
beside me in the café.
Tria Noles and Kode Sterling snicker before joining me. I swear I can’t go anywhere in Sterling Shore without running into someone I know.
“Har. Funny,” I say dryly, watching as he waggles his eyebrows.
“I’m game, you know. That is, if my boyfriend doesn’t mind,” he goes on.
I flip him off, and he chuckles harder as Tria laughs and sits in Kode’s lap like there aren’t four other chairs available.
“I wasn’t aware you and Bella even knew each other,” Kode says with a shrug.
“Guess the cat’s out of the bag now,” I quip. “What are you assholes up to?”
“Leo and I had a few more papers to sign at Pretty Posh, and now we stopped in here to grab a bite before we stop in at Rain’s place to pop the cork on some celebratory champagne. Want to come?” Tria asks.
I start to agree, when I see the one thing that will stop me… And she’s walking by the café and heading into the milkshake shop right beside us.
“Raincheck,” I tell them as I stand up and toss a few bills onto the table.
“There won’t be another celebratory champagne night for this,” Tria calls out, but I’m already walking out of the café and into the milkshake store, taking my place behind Bella.
She definitely lightened her hair, but I was wrong about the blonde. Why did she lighten it? I liked it dark. And it looks like she cut it shorter too.
“Triple chocolate,” she tells the woman behind the counter, and I can’t help but smile.
She has no idea I’m even behind her. Because I really am a fucking stalker.
It takes them no time to hand her the drink, and she doesn’t bother looking back before going over to a back booth. I order the same, and I head over to take a seat with her.
The second I slide into the booth, her head pops up, but she doesn’t even look surprised. Have I gotten that bad?
“So you kiss me, run out like Cinderella, and leave me to mop up the mess you left last night?” I ask her, watching as a proud smile spreads over her lips.
“Wouldn’t want my chariot to turn into a pumpkin before I got away, now would I?” she asks mockingly. “At least you had my name and not a measly glass slipper to track me with.”
“That’s all you have to say for yourself?” My eyes narrow.
“Sorry, Ethan Noles, but you had that coming.”
“My last name seems to be an issue for you.”
“You are an issue for me. We’re part of the same group of friends, so you need to stop with the head games now.”
“You realize you’re the one who kissed me, right?” I ask, studying her.
“I just tugged on the back of your neck. Technically, you kissed me,” she points out, smirking now.
Why do I feel like all the power has been transferred to her somehow?
“Regardless of who kissed whom, you can’t deny it was pretty intense,” I tell her, watching as that smile of hers slips.
I refuse to tell her I’ve never felt a kiss like that unless I was in the middle of having sex, when my guard would go down and I could feel… Yeah, that’s too fucked up to admit.
“This—” She points between us. “—can’t work. You don’t even want anything serious. I’ve heard all about Ethan Noles and how he wants to party like he never got the chance to. I’ve heard all about how you want to chase the fun you missed out on when you dove into work for your father’s company after his heart attack.”
That has me tensing. People have been telling her about me? I guess it’s only fair, since they’ve been filling me in on her.
“Something wrong with that?” I ask, trying to sound bored, but it’s more annoyed than I intend.
“Not at all,” she says with a shrug. “I already told you that. It’s just not what I want in my life. I’ve already done all that. You and I are not in the same place, and…” Her words trail off as her eyes rake over me. “And I’m assuming women—lots of them—will also be on your making-up-for-lost-time agenda.”
“You’ve assumed a lot of things about me,” I remind her. “Has anything been right so far?”
That resolve in her eyes cracks just a little. I have no idea what I’m doing besides playing with fire. She’s flat-out told me she doesn’t want anything casual, and that’s all I promised I would do when I finally got to come home. I sure as hell didn’t want to end up in a serious relationship anytime soon.
Yet I’m begging her to give me a chance, knowing what she wants. She’s Allie’s age, which makes her about twenty-five or twenty-six. Way too young to be settling down for good.
“Look,” I say, sitting up a little straighter as I clasp my hands together and hold her eyes with mine. “You’ve been dating these pathetic douches that you have zero interest in. What’s the worst that could happen between us? Why are you so hell bent on getting serious this young anyway?”
She bites her lip, acting as though she’s unsure of whether or not she wants to answer. I’m just now realizing she’s in her scrubs, and I glance at the clock behind her, noting it’s five in the afternoon. Is that what time she gets off? Why do I care? So I can better stalk her?
When I look back at her, she sighs while leaning back.
“You know about Tag, right?”
My entire body tenses.
“What about Tag?”
She looks a little surprised, and then a blush hits her cheeks.
“Never mind. Forget it.”
“Oh hell no. Now you have to tell me. If you think I already know, then that means everyone else knows. Don’t make me call one of them right now while I hold you captive.”
She groans while running a hand through her hair. It slides through her hair like silk ribbons, and I struggle not to feel it for myself. It’s been years since I felt silk.
She snaps me out of my inner reverie when she speaks. “Fine. Whatever. It was years ago, but it’s embarrassing.” She scowls at me like she’s pissed she has to say whatever it is, but I’m getting increasingly pissed by the second.
“So back when Wren and Allie hooked up the first time, I was fresh out of high school and I was really, really wild. Tag was with Wren that night, and well, yeah…”
I shouldn’t want to punch one of my best friends right now, but I do. This girl makes me violent.
“You hooked up with him? And that made you never want to…? I’m confused. Leave out the details, because I can’t think about you and Tag together, but explain the rest.”
“Tag told me his name, but when the time came to remember, I couldn’t. When Allie turned up pregnant with Wren’s kid and he’d given her a fake last name, all I had to do was remember Tag’s last name. But, like I said, I couldn’t. So I told her I was too drunk to remember it.”
“Tag doesn’t do drunk chicks,” I immediately point out, feeling better. They didn’t have sex—
“I know,” she says with a guilty expression. “I said I told Allie I was too drunk. But I was sober. I just couldn’t admit at the time that I was so out of control that I didn’t even bother to remember their names anymore. I changed after that. It took that to make me change. I didn’t do wild, reckless, nameless sex ever again. I started dating and getting into serious relationships.”
“Why do I feel like someone with tattoos fucked you over and now you’re going to tell me I remind you of him?” I ask, feeling labeled.
She smiles, surprising me, and shakes her head. “It wasn’t one guy, and it wasn’t the tattoos. It was the cocky attitude, the overly confident air about them, and the fuck-off vibe they gave the rest of the world. I kept trying to be special to someone who wouldn’t care about just anyone.” Her smile falls. “I was never special,” she admits, shrugging like it’s no big deal, even though I see the insecurity that surfaces with the confession.
This is getting real, and normally this is where I exit. Instead, I take a long draw off my milkshake, and gesture for her to go on. Because I can’t seem to force myself to l
eave.
Chapter 13
BELLA
Why am I telling him this? I sound like a slutty piece of shit.
“Anyway, the last guy I got involved with ended my string of bad boys. Such as yourself,” I state, ending it with a joking note while smiling at him.
“I ran a business for my dad because he couldn’t bear to lose it. I worked an average eighteen hours a day—including weekends—just to keep that place booming, and killed myself to make sure it went to the right buyer when the time finally came that I just couldn’t continue to hand over my soul to a company.”
That surprises me, considering it seems so out of the blue.
“I’m saying I’m not your typical ‘bad boy,’ and for the record, I hate labels of any kind.”
And that makes me smile again. He’s really nothing at all like I pegged him to be.
“Sorry I labeled you,” I tell him mockingly, watching as his lips twitch.
“What happened with the guy that turned you off for good?” he prompts, reminding me this is getting deep.
“Just before I moved to Sterling Shore less than a year ago, I had an apartment with Allie and Angel in our old city. I never brought guys home, but Allie and Angel went camping for some mother/daughter bonding time. I figured why not invite my boyfriend over? I did, and the next morning Allie came home to find Angel’s piggy bank money from her birthday party was gone. Over two hundred dollars that she’d gotten from our hospital friends we’d invited to the party… It was all gone. So was Allie’s necklace. I’d gotten it for her our first Christmas as friends. It was the first present she’d ever gotten. It wasn’t worth much money, but he stole something she treasured. He stole from Angel—a little kid. And I had let him into our home.”
He sits back, and so do I. We both stare like we can’t look away for several long, silent moments.
“I guess Allie was pissed.”
“She was upset, but not at me. Allie is really emotionally mature, usually. Other than when she first found Wren. But who wouldn’t be under those circumstances? She usually always focuses her anger on the actual target and doesn’t lash out at anyone else. I deserved her anger, but she refused to be mad at me. It just made me feel worse.”
