“She’ll never fall for my shit.’’
“You can’t know for sure unless you try.’’
“You didn’t see her look. Fuck, her eyes have been the only thing on my mind.’’
“It’s another reason why you should find her and apologize.’’ Ralph stood up and tapped me on my back. “She finishes at InkSpired at six tonight. Be the man I know you are, Wyatt. You don’t have to be an asshole to everybody outside of the people you trust.’’
***
MARISSA
“Bye, Kam and thank you again,’’ I called out to my mentor as I shouldered my purse and rummaged through it to find my car key.
Kam didn’t look up from his work as he applied the flash tatt for his client, a guy who came here every month to work on his partial sleeve. “You did good, girl. See you tomorrow and don’t come too early. You need to rest, or the clients are going to leave when they have a look at you.’’
“Ah. Ah. Ah,’’ I deadpanned and left InkSpired with a small smile at the thought of my first design tatted on someone other than on fruit or fake skin. It had felt great to tattoo Ralph with my piece, and when I looked at the result, it didn’t feel only good, it had made me proud, and so exhilarated that it forced me to forget how tired I was and how my mind wrecked since that night at the club.
“Marissa?’’
That voice. I froze and looked up to come face to face with Wyatt. I glanced around, sure I’d find Ralph, but he’s nowhere to be seen. “What do you want?’’
He grasped the back of his neck, and the move made his muscles bulge in his arm. The t-shirt he had on didn’t hide much his pecs and tight, defined abs. There’s a gym bag at his feet, and I didn’t know if he’s here on his way to work out or if he’s coming from a workout.
“You won’t accept, but I have to try,’’ he replied and took a deep breath, eyes back on me, keeping me trapped there in front of him. “Would you have a drink with me?’’
I blinked and frowned. “You’re kidding me.’’
“Fuck.’’ He closed his eyes as if in pain, lines etching on his forehead partially hidden by his dark hair. “I made a mess of everything,’’ he mumbled, more to himself than me I imagined.
“You’ve given me enough shit, Wyatt. Let’s not prolong it anymore, okay.’’
I made to walk away, but he quickly grabbed his gym bag and blocked my path, towering over me, his chest so close to my face I got to smell his body wash, something a bit spicy that had me ready to get a sniff.
“I didn’t want to hurt you.’’
I tilted my head sideways and upward to fix him. “Didn’t you though?’’
The guilt striking over his bearded face was answer enough. But of course, it’s soon gone and replaced by a mask of calm. Only his eyes were as intense as usual but less harsh than I was used to when directed at me.
“If I’m honest you’re going to run in the opposite direction and make sure we never cross path again.’’
“It’d show I’m not too stupid or naïve.’’
“Or that you’re the kind of person who plays it safe,’’ he retorted, voice lower, rumbling in the air around us.
I swallowed then. It’s hard to hold his eyes when they were sucking me in like this. Everything in me was screaming at me for not turning around and walking away, but I was still there. Maybe I had a side of me who’s self-destructive because nothing good could come up from another confrontation with this guy. I was only twenty, but I knew enough to comprehend that someone like him couldn’t be any good, not to someone like me.
“There’s nothing wrong with it. I don’t like going out of my way to meet people who pass their frustrations out on me. But I get it. I understand why you’re like this and I’m telling you now I’m not going to see Lydia again. Not anytime soon, anyway.’’
“Don’t,’’ he said and got closer. The tip of his dirty chucks touched my flats. I couldn’t look at his face anymore. Instead, I focused on the t-shirt stretching over his pecs. “You’re not afraid to talk back to me so don’t do something because of me.’’
“Are you trying to convince me to see your mother again? Wyatt… You give me whiplash.’’
He chuckled and brought a hand to my chin to tilt my head up. His touch was soft, so soft it’s at odds with how harsh our relationship had been and how rough he looked. “I have a hard time following my fucked-up thoughts too.’’
Eyes locked again; it reminded me of that moment at the club when we had stared into each other’s eyes. It’d been intimate, but here, standing so close as he touched my chin softly in the middle of the street where people walked around us, it wasn’t just intimate, it was overwhelming.
“Wyatt—''
“Have a drink with me. Just one. After that, you’ll make your choice.’’
“Okay.’’ I pulled away and looked around, trying to come out of this moment that had me weak at the knees when minutes ago I had considered kicking him in the balls. “There’s a bar a few blocks down.’’
He smirked at me, and he put the hand that had been on my face in his pocket, drawing his jeans lower on his hips. “They’ll let you in?’’
“It’s InkSpired haunting spot. I know the bartender.’’
MARISSA
The silence was thick between us as we nursed our drinks. Sitting at a small table right in the middle of the bar packed with people here for happy hour made the silence between us all the harder to take in without cringing or fidgeting.
I took my hair out of its ponytail and ran a hand through the strands, lightly massaging my scalp. After a day with my hair attached, it’s a bliss to get it down, quite literally. It’d be better if only Wyatt and I had something to talk about.
For someone who cornered me into agreeing to go for a drink, he was reticent. His dark eyes kept going back and forth between the patrons mingling around and me.
I glided my fingertips over the beer bottle in front of me and watched the droplets of water on the cold glass sliding down and coating the top of the small table.
“It took me a while to realize that my adoptive parents were here to stay,’’ Wyatt said out of the blue, his voice hoarse as if he’s reluctant to talk about this.
I stopped any movements, afraid that if I gazed at him, he would retract himself back into his hard shell. Because while I still didn’t like his guts much, I was curious about him. I had no idea what it’s like to be adopted so late in your life, to have gone through foster families for years. In one word, he intrigued me which wasn't in my best interest.
“You still don’t believe it much if you’re scared I’d take your place,’’ I said quietly, my voice softer than I had ever used it with him. I risked a glance his way and saw him shrug, eyes downcast on the beer bottle swallowed by his hand.
“It’s not rational, but… You’re her blood, Marissa. If you wanted, you could become a huge part of my mother’s life.’’
“But I don’t want that.’’ When his eyes landed on me with disbelief, I leaned closer to the table. “I don’t. I love my parents, my brother… I don’t need another family member.’’ I bit the inside of my mouth and shook my head. “I needed to know the circumstances leading to my abandonment, and I wanted to see if I look like my birth mother. That’s all, Wyatt.’’
He nodded, but now that I looked closely enough without the anger clouding my vision, I saw stressed lines around his eyes, saw rings under them too.
“I guess I still have abandonment issues,’’ he ruefully said and took a sip of his beer. I watched his throat work as he swallowed. “My biological parents fucked me good. My biological mother left when I was a toddler, and my biological father abandoned me when I was eight. After that, it’s the usual sob story when you’re in the system. I bounced from foster family to foster family until I got lucky and Lydia found me. But I was thirteen by then. I was an angry boy.’’
“You look still angry to me,’’ I blurted out without thinking and then braced myse
lf for his harsh comeback, but nothing came. He nodded once and took another sip of his beer, but one look at his hand wrapped around his bottle and I knew he’s keeping himself in check. His knuckles were white from his tight grip around the neck of the bottle.
“You would too.’’ There’s a darkness in his voice that tugged at me, darkness I couldn’t grasp but I sensed. It’s always there in his eyes, in his gruff voice and harsh tone, but here I could see it stemmed from his past and not just his fear. There’s something inside of him, something I couldn’t comprehend but it’s doing a number on him. That’s when it hit me all the more how lucky I was to have been adopted as a baby, to have a family like mine. And it also became apparent how young and innocent I was about some aspects of life. Wyatt had matured early on and not in a healthy way. It had broken something in him.
Slowly, I brought a hand toward his still wrapped around the beer bottle. When he didn’t move away, I put mine over his. My palm and fingers looked so small over his, barely covering his fingers and the back of his hand. I glanced up at his face and found him already watching me with an intensity in his eyes that made me gasp and pull away. But he didn’t let me. His dark eyebrows lowered and he grabbed my hand, his long fingers holding my hand tightly to keep me there, connected to him. I felt his touch so deeply inside me it scared me.
Wyatt scared me.
He intrigued me more.
***
WYATT
Fuck, it hurt to open up. I hadn’t spilled any of my big bad memories to her, but talking about my past was enough to bring out enough bad shit to make me lose sleep for the next few nights.
I was used to it now. Since she’d walked in my life, I’d been sleeping for shit.
But with her small hand in mine? I wasn’t going to say it’s worth it, but it’s enough to make me want her more. Even now, I was at half-mast under the table, and the warmth from her hand was a direct link to my cock, inflating it more and more as seconds passed.
Marissa was a hot woman. She looked the part for a perfect one-night stand, but for some reason, I doubted she’s the one-night stand material. It’s fucked up anyway.
I couldn’t sleep with my adoptive mother’s biological daughter. I didn’t want to have to see her again another time once it’s all said and done. My cock needed to realize that though before I made a move and she went back to hating my guts.
“We’re never going to be friends. I know that,’’ she said quietly, her musical voice so soft and sexy when low like this that it’s hard for me not to grab her face, pull her toward me and taste her lips. Shit, it’d be so damn easy, and everything else would take a back seat for a little while. “But I want you to know that we’re good. We may see each other again one day, you never know, and while I still think you’re an asshole, I suppose I understand where you come from.’’
“Why shouldn’t we be friends?’’ I asked, but I knew it already. I wasn’t the kind of guy you pick to be friends with, not when all I’d shown her was my short temper and anger.
“Are you for real?’’ She tugged on her hand still in mine, and I reluctantly let her go. She sat straighter and eyed me expectantly as if waiting for me to laugh it off or some shit like that. Instead, I bore my eyes into hers and willed her to feel this thing. It’s like a wire current humming through my damn veins. She couldn't ignore it.
“Do I look like a guy joking around?’’
She pursed her lips and looked away, but kept on glancing at me in the corner of her eye. “You can’t stand me, Wyatt.’’
I could stand you if it involved you and me without any clothes on, I thought, and I knew I was smiling, but I didn’t give her the time to question me. “Let’s try this friendship thing. We’ll see how it goes.’’
“Listen—''
I shook my head and stopped her with a hand held up between us. “Give it some thought. I’ll get your phone number from Ralph, and I’ll call you in a few days and see where we stand. You’re the one calling the shots.’’
“Since I’ve met you, it didn’t feel that way.’’
I smirked at her, the kind of lip twitching higher on one side that had women usually melt for me and I stood up. She tipped her head upward to look at me, and it bared her throat, drawing my attention there and lower to the swell of her breasts under her skin-tight t-shirt with InkSpired written in white block letters. Possibilities of what I could do to these perfect tits distracted me from the matter at hands, but when her frown deepened it brought me back to the present.
“I like holding the reins, babe, but I don’t mind giving up control once in a while.’’
With that, I turned around and walked away, gritting my teeth while my hard cock pushed against the restraint of my jeans.
I didn’t know how long I could ignore what my other head told me to do when I was with Marissa. Of course, I could always call some chicks I didn’t care to get laid and solve my current problem, but I wouldn’t. It’d be too fucking easy, and somehow right now I didn’t want easy.
Once Marissa Thornton was out of my system things would get back to normal.
At this point, I had no doubt.
I was going to fuck her, and in doing so, I’d probably fuck her over. She’d hate me more than she already did and she’d steer clear of my family.
It'd be okay even if I’d hate myself for hurting a girl like her, but it’s who I was.
I hurt people.
Just like my biological father.
MARISSA
“Still nothing?’’ Sophie asked me as we lounged in the back office with our steaming cups—coffee for me and blend tea for her.
I frowned down at my dark beverage and shook my head. “Nothing. It shouldn’t bother me, though.’’
She rolled her beautiful blue eyes at me and sipped her tea, making a humming sound. “If you want, you can—.''
“If you’re about to say I can call my birth mother to get Wyatt’s number I’m going to grab one of your precious needles and pierce you somewhere it hurts. And I don’t know how to pierce so…’’ I ground out and frowned deeper when she laughed behind her cup, doing a poor job at hiding herself.
It’d been three days since I had last seen Wyatt and I was waiting to hear from him as promised. During these three days, I’d been tortured by Sophie’s excitement at the weird story unfolding between Wyatt and myself. Just last night when we had lunch at my place she went on and on about the apparent sexual tension between him and me and how I wouldn’t be able to resist him for long.
She wasn’t entirely wrong, and considering how I mostly hated his guts I should be ready to turn my back on him and forget all about him. But in these three days, I’d had enough time to rehash our last chat and his parting words.
He had played me that day, and it’s sad to say I fell victim to his game.
“You’re fiery,’’ she noted and slid her thick-framed glasses up her nose. “All I’m saying is that you’re making it harder on yourself, Mar. You’re not usually so strung tight with guys.’’
“It’s different this time. It’s not about dating or… You know.’’ I flushed at the thought of something happening between Wyatt and me. It wasn’t like I hadn’t thought about it. If anything, it’s something I’d had a hard time not envisioning at night, alone in my bed. Or in my shower.
Sophie chuckled at my expense and patted my knee, bent to my chest on the sleek couch Kam bought a few months ago. “Isn’t it, though?’’
“Argh! I don’t freaking know!’’ I stood up and put my mug next to the coffee machine. I didn’t need a mirror to know the extreme warmth in my body reflected on my burning cheeks. I kept my back to Sophie, ashamed she’d see me react so strongly. Since we’d met, I’d had a couple of boyfriends and a one-night stand. None of these guys ever made me act like this. They’d never made me feel such diametral opposite emotions at once either. I both hated and lusted after Wyatt which was a complete mindfuck.
“I have one question for you, Mariss
a,’’ she said softly, and I didn’t detect a hint of her amused smile in her voice. I turned around and found her watching me intently. “Are you afraid to start something with him because of who his mother is? I mean, it must be difficult for you.’’
I leaned back against the metallic furniture behind me holding the shop’s paperwork and on top of which was my mug, a few others and the coffee machine full of fresh coffee. “I’d rather forget the circumstance of my encounter with him. He’s not the settling type anyway so it’s not like I’d be in his life in the long run. And if he only wanted friendship, I bet his temper would drive me away before the end of the year.’’ I tightened my ponytail, cringing when a few strands of hair tugged harshly on my scalp. “I don’t expect anything from him.’’
Sophie stood up and arched an eyebrow at me over the thick frame of her glasses, her lips pursed in obvious doubt. “Right. That’s why you’re wrung so tight. Don’t lie to yourself because it’s only going to hurt you.’’
“Let’s forget about this for now and go back to work. Kam is going to bitch if we take a longer break.’’
She let it slide and threw her to-go cup in the dustbin when my phone beeped shrilly in my pants. Because of course, I’d changed the ringtone for my texts, so I was sure I wouldn’t miss one coming in. It’s pathetic, but it was that, or I checked my phone every five minutes.
Sophie and I looked at each other, and a small smile reappeared on her smooth face. “At least he’s a man of his words.’’
“Maybe it’s my brother.’’
“Oh come on, he never texts you. You told me yourself he prefers calling you.’’
“It could be someone else then.''
Her only answer was a long look that spoke volume.
I slipped a hand into my pocket and retrieved my phone. There’s a text from an unknown number. I bit my lower lip, my heart speeding up. Sophie was right. I couldn’t lie to myself. I wouldn’t feel so delighted and apprehensive upon receiving a text from him if in my mind it wasn’t already sure that something would happen between us. But I still didn’t know what I truly wanted, and I was worried the kind of thing he wanted didn’t match my expectations. I didn’t see someone like Wyatt Burton working too hard on a woman and for longer than a few days, or weeks for a lucky one.
Messy Love Page 7
