He has the banner up in thirty seconds.
Anna starts stacking my books into neat little piles on the table, rambling about presentation, while I try and calm my nerves. What if no one wants a book signed? Most people probably don’t even know who I am.
I’m a bestselling author, I remind myself. Now isn’t the time to second-guess myself. My books have sold worldwide, and I was invited to the event. I’ve been invited to others before, but this is the first one I’ve accepted.
I’m nervous.
At least Wyatt is here. Surely women would want to see him.
The doors open, and the readers pile in.
When a line forms before me, I don’t even know what to say.
So I smile.
“I love your books!” a lovely lady with kind, warm eyes says. “I’ve read them all more than once.”
“Thank you,” I reply, feeling a little choked up.
“Would you mind signing all of them for me?”
“I’d love to,” I reply honestly.
I sign anything and everything I’m given, from books to posters to photo books.
I chat with my readers; I take photos with them and thank them for buying my books.
At the end of the day, I’m exhausted, but my heart is so full I fall asleep with a smile on my face for the first time since Tracker kicked me out of his life.
* * *
The next week, Wyatt invites me for lunch. I say yes, not sure if it’s for business or pleasure, but eager to get out of the house either way. It’s time for me to try moving on with my life. I did have a missed call from Tracker the night of my book signing, but I didn’t bother to call him back. He has a right to be mad at me, of course, but I don’t understand why he won’t let me explain myself. While I was with him, I didn’t feel like I was only an author, I felt like I was more. I felt like I was a woman, like I was experiencing the things I write about in my books. I was no longer hiding behind my screen.
Instead of writing about life, I was living it.
For the first time ever. And I was the happiest I’d ever been.
He pulled me out of my head, and while I still loved writing and would write every day if I could, I was also experiencing more things on a day-to-day basis. If I wasn’t with Tracker, I would have written a whole heap more than I did.
I meet Wyatt at the restaurant, dressed in jeans, white heels, and a white shirt.
“Hello,” he says, smiling to reveal straight white teeth. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” I say as he pulls my chair out for me.
A compliment. So this is a date?
Why did I have to be so awkward?
“So,” I say, smiling a little shakily. “I’ve never eaten here before.”
Note to self: work on my small-talk skills.
“Me either,” he says, lifting the menu in his hands. “What do you feel like?”
I browse the menu and choose the least messy meal.
“So, are you going to do any more signings?” he asks. “It was great promotion for me. I’ve had a few other authors want to use my photos for their covers too.”
“That’s great,” I say honestly. “I hope your modeling career becomes everything you dreamed it would.”
When I see Anna, Rake, Arrow, and Tracker walk into the restaurant, I want to both die and kill Anna simultaneously. She knew I was having lunch here today with Wyatt. Why did I tell her? Tracker stops in his tracks when he sees me, his lips curving into a smile until he sees I’m not alone. He stares at Wyatt, his fists clenched and a scowl now etched where the smile used to be.
Anna walks over like she isn’t seconds away from being stabbed with a fork. “Lana! Hello, Wyatt.”
“Hey, Anna,” Wyatt says, flashing her a friendly smile. “What a small world.”
Small indeed. Too small.
“Anna, what are you doing here?” I ask her through clenched teeth. I mutter my hellos to the men, now standing right behind her. Arrow looks amused, Rake confused, and Tracker like he’s about to murder Wyatt.
“We got hungry, so I suggested we go out for lunch,” she says, smiling happily. “I had no idea you and Wyatt were having your date here!”
Could she be any more obvious?
“Really, well, we’re about to order so . . .” I trail off, hoping they all get the hint.
They don’t.
Tracker pulls out the chair next to me, and takes a seat. “You dating now?”
“I’m trying to,” I say with a wince.
“We need to talk.”
“Time for talking is over,” I say, throwing his own words back in his face.
His lips tighten. “I’m not going to sit here and let you have a fuckin’ date with another man. If you care about him at all, you will go outside with me. Otherwise my fist is going to be in his face in the next ten seconds.”
Wyatt stares at me with wide eyes and says, “Maybe you should . . .”
I stand up, my chair pushing back. “You’re such an asshole, Tracker.”
I storm outside and stand next to his bike. I consider kicking it.
“Don’t even think about it,” he growls, grabbing my arm and turning me to face him. “You fucking him?”
“How’s that any of your business?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. “You ended it. I don’t belong to you.”
“You will always belong to me,” he snaps, then looks away.
“You’ve ignored me all this time. Now just because you see me with another man, you what? You want to talk? Why, you don’t ever want to see me happy? Is that it? You want me pining after you for the rest of my life while you ignore me and fuck other women?”
I’m yelling at him by the end of my rant.
“Lana, you’re a fuckin’ famous author, and you didn’t feel the need to tell me? When I saw what you were writing, I just lost it. I didn’t know you wrote shit like that, because you never told me.”
“I did tell you once, and you thought I was joking. And when you read it, you didn’t even let me explain,” I say. “Your first reaction was to assume I’d betray you. I might have not shared everything with you, but you should know by now that I’m not a bad person. The fact that you automatically thought the worst of me, what the hell am I supposed to do with that?”
“I don’t know,” he says, sarcasm lacing his angry tone. “Why don’t you go write about it?”
I make a noise of frustration.
“Christ, my old lady is fuckin’ Zada Ryan, and I didn’t even know. How the hell do you think that makes me feel? What, you didn’t trust me enough to share that information with me? Maybe you should be questioning why that is. Either you don’t trust me, or . . . what? Why do you want it to be a secret?”
“I’d just kept it to myself for so long. No one knows about my writing except my mom, and then I told Anna. I was going to tell you, but whenever I tried, other shit was going on and I didn’t feel like it was the right time. I don’t know, Tracker.” I sigh. “I don’t want to fight, all right? I’m just going to go home. Tell Wyatt I’m sorry.”
“I’m not saying anything to that fucker other than to stay away from what’s mine if he wants to keep his pretty face,” he declares, a muscle ticking in his strong jaw.
I open my mouth and then close it. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And you’re delusional if you think I’m done with you,” he states.
I throw my hands up in the air. “I’ve been so damn miserable and you didn’t care. Now I’m trying to move on and here you are fucking it up for me.”
“Bullshit I didn’t care. I fuckin’ care. I drove past your apartment at night just to check on things. I made Blade follow you to and from your classes, and why the hell should you be able to move on when I sure as fuck can’t?” he practically yells at me, his chest heaving with each breath.
“Yeah, you looked heartbroken when I saw you sitting next to that blonde,” I retort, sneering. “Must have been a real
hardship for you.”
“I was trying to get over you.”
“Well maybe you should try harder,” I say in a cold voice. “And leave me the hell alone.”
He laughs without humor. “You forget that you’re mine. No matter what you do or say, that will never change.”
“I hate you.”
“And I love you. I read your book. You’re so fuckin’ talented. It’s a shame you didn’t want to share that with me.”
He turns and walks back into the restaurant, while I get in my car and get the hell out of there.
TWENTY-SIX
ANNA sends me five messages apologizing. I know she meant well—she thinks Tracker and I belong together—but now things are up in the air again and I have no idea what happened to Wyatt after I left. I know Anna made sure they didn’t do anything to him. He messaged me and said he didn’t think it was a good idea if we saw each other anymore. Tracker is cock-blocking me while he’s able to get women any time he wants. Infuriating, but . . .
He read my book.
He hates reading.
It was a sweet gesture. And for him to say those kind words about my writing . . .
Damn him!
Pacing up and down my apartment, I’m about to go for a walk when there’s a knock at the door. Opening it, I come face-to-face with Tracker.
“I don’t like the thought of you alone here. In fact, I fuckin’ hate it,” he says in greeting.
“Well, too bad someone kicked me out of my last place,” I say in a cold tone. My words hit their mark, going by the way he flinches.
“I still don’t like it,” he says in a much softer tone.
“Your feelings aren’t high on my priority list anymore,” I say, pushing my glasses up on the bridge of my nose.
He scowls, looking a mixture of angry and resigned. “I brought you something. A present. I know you like ani-
mals so . . .”
Looking down, I see that he has a basket in his hands. Inside is . . .
“Oh my god!” I say, taking the basket from him and peering down at the cute ball of black and gold fur.
“She’s a purebred German shepherd,” he says. “I thought maybe you might like to have someone in the apartment with you. I checked with your landlord, and you’re allowed to have pets.”
“She is perfect,” I say, then glance up at Tracker. “Come in.”
I walk into the kitchen and put the basket down, picking up the puppy and cradling her to my chest.
“She’s so soft and fluffy,” I whisper. “I love her so much!”
Tracker chuckles. “She’s going to have long fur.” He pauses. “It’s nice to see you smile again too.”
I kiss her head. “Thank you, Tracker; she’s perfect.”
“What are you going to call her?” he asks, watching the two of us together.
I think it over. “Evie. I’m going to call her Evie.”
Tracker looks amused. “Isn’t that what you wanted to name your daughter if you ever have one?”
I nod. “Who knows if or when I’ll have kids. And she looks like an Evie, don’t you think? It’s such a pretty name for a pretty little princess,” I say in a baby voice.
“Christ,” I hear him mutter. “I have a bed, food, and some toys for her in the car too.”
“Glad you didn’t bring her here on your bike,” I tease, then look back down at Evie, stroking her fur.
“So,” he says, looking around my apartment. “Are you going to offer me a drink?”
I purse my lips. “Is Evie a bribe?”
“Is it working?” he fires back, flashing me one of his charming, panty-dropping smiles.
I sigh heavily. “Maybe. Go bring her stuff in and I’ll make some coffee.”
He leans down and kisses my forehead. “Okay.”
I watch his back as he leaves the room, then turn down to my new best friend.
“Sorry, Anna,” I tell Evie with a grin. “You’ve just been replaced.”
* * *
“You don’t trust me, do you?” he asks, blowing on his coffee.
“I trust you more than any other man,” I say slowly, trying to explain. “I love you, Tracker, but to be honest, I kind of expected you to hurt me at some point. And you did, but I guess it was because of my own doing. I guess my dad screwed me up, then the first guy I ever liked played me for a fool in high school. The two men I slept with afterward turned out to be jerks too. The first one played hot and cold, wanted me so much at the start but then just went silent after I slept with him. The second guy turned out to be an arrogant asshole. It’s not that I’m making you pay for their mistakes—I guess I thought what we had was too good to be true. I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’m just not the girl who gets her perfect guy in the end.” I look to Evie, who is sleeping in her bed. “I’m the recluse author who’s going to turn into a crazy dog lady.”
He cracks a smile at that. “No relationship is going to be perfect.”
“I know that.”
“But what you need to realize is, at the end of the day, I get pissed, we fight, but I’ll still want you. It hurt that you didn’t trust me. I felt betrayed. Like I didn’t know you, I don’t know. I fuckin’ miss you, Lana. I wish that day never happened.”
“Me too,” I whisper. “Will you ever be able to trust me again?”
He tilts his head and studies me. “Will you forgive me for everything I did? Not listening to you? For being an idiot when I was pissed at you and we were apart?”
I suck in air. “How many women did you sleep with?”
It even hurt to say the words. I rub my chest with my palm, tears threatening to fall down my cheeks like raindrops.
“I didn’t sleep with anyone, Lana,” he says gently.
I raise my head. “What? Then what do I have to forgive you for?”
“Well I’m not completely innocent,” he says, ducking his head. “But I didn’t fuck anyone.”
“So what? You got blow jobs from them?”
He stays quiet.
Bingo.
“I see,” I mutter with scorn.
“Lana—”
“Evie and I would like to be left alone now, if you don’t mind,” I say stiffly. “Thank you for her.”
He sighs, sounding tired. “I was hurt too, you know, it wasn’t just you.”
“Yeah, it sounds like it,” I reply. “You didn’t see me doing anything with other men.”
“What the fuck was Wyatt then?” he growls. “You were trying to move on and deal with the pain, the same as me. I’m a man with a high sex drive. I’d never cheat on you, but we weren’t exactly together. Still, I didn’t want my dick in another pussy. Maybe you should think about what that means, trying to see it from my point of view.”
He stands and walks toward the front door. “I could have any woman I want, Lana, but I only want you. I fuckin’ love you. I’m not perfect, but neither are you, and we both need to want this to make it work. You need to have a long think about whether that’s good enough for you, because I’m not gonna wait forever.”
He leaves.
Only then do I allow the tears to flow.
* * *
“I didn’t come into the clubhouse with ulterior motives,” I tell Sin as he walks into my apartment and sits down like he owns the place.
“I know that, Lana,” he says gently. “But you have to admit, it looked bad. We didn’t know you were an author and you came to stay with us to look after Clover when you clearly didn’t need the money. But if I didn’t think you were telling the truth, this would be a whole different kind of visit.”
“Faye needed me,” I say with a shrug. “And Tracker and Anna were there. I write on my own schedule, so I didn’t have a shitload of work to do or anything. It was like I was taking a break.”
Sin glances down at Evie, eyes widening. “I see Tracker’s been here.”
I nod, smiling. “Yeah, earlier today.”
He studies me, making me squi
rm, then leans forward, his elbows on his knees. “Tracker’s hurting. He won’t admit it, of course, but his actions speak for him. He drinks more. He fights more. He gets in everyone’s face. He’s lost the easiness about him. Basically, I want the old Tracker back. And you’re going to get him for me.”
“Sin—”
“Do you love him?”
“Yes, but—”
“Do you want him to move on with another bitch?” he asks boldly.
“No, of course not, but—”
“He’s a man, Lana. A wild one. But for you, he showed you a side most of us will never see. Put everything behind the two of you, go work shit out. For all our sakes,” he says, standing up. “Not every man will drop three grand on a puppy just so an ex-girlfriend won’t feel lonely, and so she will be protected in the future.” He shakes his head. “Thoughtful bastard.”
He gets up to go. “Oh, and one more thing,” he adds as he walks out my front door. “Faye wants a signed book.”
When I hear his bike pull away, I look at Evie and sigh. “Wonder who else will drop by today?”
Sin is right, but he’s also wrong.
Yes, I love Tracker.
But how am I supposed to just move on and forget everything that happened? I’d kept things from him, but he made me feel like shit when he pushed me away without giving me a few minutes to explain. I hurt him; he hurt me back. Is that love?
And if it is, do I want to be a part of it again?
TWENTY-SEVEN
OUT of all the people I thought I’d see today, the man in front of me wasn’t one of them.
“Lana?” he says, eyes widening.
Staring into the eyes of my high school crush, I square my shoulders and force a smile on my now strained face. “William, hi.”
I glance around the shopping mall, hoping someone will save me, but no one appears, just my luck.
“How are you? You look amazing,” he says, smiling. “It’s been years. Do you still keep in touch with anyone from school?”
Just Allie, if you could count her.
“No,” I say. “Didn’t have many friends in school, if you don’t remember.”
He suddenly looks a little sheepish. “I was a douche in school, I’m sorry. I did like you though. Allyson was a little obsessive with me back then. Wonder what became of her. We broke up straight after high school.”
Tracker's End Page 19
