by LK Collins
It must have taken me too long to say something else, because the next thing I know, Mia turns her back on me and leaves. I feel like a fool standing in the middle of the conference room watching her walk away.
I’m still standing there and staring at the door when it opens again, and Chandler walks in.
“Where’d she go?” he asks.
“She had to go.”
“Without saying bye?”
“She said bye to me.”
Chandler pulls out his phone and calls her. As soon as she answers, he lays into her good-naturedly.
I’m not sure what it is about Mia, that makes me so irrational, but there is something. Something within her that tugs at my heart strings, something that makes me want her more than I’ve ever wanted any other woman in all my life.
I head into my office to find the light on my phone blinking. I check the message, and by the time it ends, my heart is in my throat. I grab my car keys and bolt out of the office without a word to anyone, heading to the girls’ school.
When I get there, Maisy is sitting waiting for me just outside the nurse’s office, and I rush to her side.
“What happened?” She has ice over her lip, and her only answer is to point into the clinic at another girl who has blood running down her face. I won’t believe for one second that my little girl did that to her.
“She was running her mouth about Ria, saying she was a slut, so I hit her.”
Hearing my baby girl use that word makes me cringe. “Did she swing first?”
She shakes her head, and I sit in the stiff ass chair next to her, wondering why in the world this is happening. “Come on, Maisy, you know the rules. You don’t swing until the other person does.”
“Dad, you weren’t there. She didn’t only call her a slut. There were other words, too.”
“Then you tell a teacher.”
“And what, be a snitch?”
“Oh my God, Maisy, you’re in seventh grade for Christ’s sake.”
“So?”
She may have her mother’s eyes, but that natural instinct to fight lives just as much inside her as it does me.
The other girl’s parents walk in, and we both stop talking. The mom and the dad glare at Maisy and me. The girls go to a private school, so everyone knows everyone here, which isn’t always the best thing. The mom continues to shoot us hateful looks as the dad talks to the receptionist. I really want to yell at her and tell her to teach her daughter some manners, so my daughter doesn’t have to do it for her. The only thing I actually do is run my hands over my face and hope they don’t decide to press charges. The odds don’t look in my favor as the parents rush into the clinic, so I prepare myself for the worst.
Chapter 5
Roan
The three of us are sitting in the kitchen, and I know now is the time to talk to them about sex, but first thing’s first.
“Cell phones!” I reach my hand out to the girls, and they both stare back at me as if I’m speaking a foreign language.
“Dad, you can’t do that!” Rianna argues. “I didn’t even do anything wrong.”
“Yes, you did. Having a boy in your room without asking and doing God only knows what late at night is not okay with me. You’re both grounded for a week.”
“A week!”
“Yes, a week. Now give me your phones.” They don’t budge. “Fine, I’ll just call the cell phone company and have them shut off, permanently.” Reluctantly, they both hand over their electronics.
My skin crawls as I consider how to start the actual conversation I need to have with them. These are my little girls, I can’t imagine them ever being intimate, nor do I want to. So, I do what any rational father would do. I chicken out, leaving them alone.
I head into my bedroom to try to figure out what the fuck I’m going to do with them, and grab my phone.
“What’s up?” Chandler answers on the first ring.
“Oh, man, where do I begin?”
“That bad?” he asks, referring to Maisy. I texted him from the school and filled him on what had happened.
“Yup, she got suspended for three days, and I grounded them both for a week.”
“Damn, you’re a hard-ass.”
“She’s lucky the parents aren’t pressing charges.”
“True, you wanna meet for a drink and chill out?”
I look at the clock, it’s a quarter past seven, and I know the girls will avoid me for the rest of the night, so why the hell not. “Sure, where at?”
“Pasqual’s?”
“Okay, I’ll head there now.” We hang up, and I grab a twenty from my wallet before heading out of my room. The girls aren’t in the kitchen any longer, so I go into the basement, and they both look at me from the couch with hate written all over their faces. Well, they can hate me all they want.
“I have a meeting tonight, but here’s some cash if you want to order dinner.”
“We don’t have phones, Dad!” Rianna says in a condescending tone.
“There’s a house phone and plenty of delivery menus on the fridge. No boys, you got it?”
Rianna rolls her eyes, and I wish I knew where our relationship took such a wrong turn. After Georgia left, we were so close. We couldn’t breathe if we weren’t together. Recently, it seems we can’t breathe when we are together, and I have no clue what changed things. But I guess that is part of raising a girl, a teenage girl.
“Okay,” Maisy answers. It’s the best I’m going to get, so I leave them in peace and head to meet Chandler. Neither of them bothers to say bye. I know as angry as the girls are at me, they are still way better off than I was at their age.
I was doomed before I even had a chance, which makes me think about Georgia. When I met her, I was convinced she was going to be the one to save me. She made me feel alive. The woman was so goddamn beautiful and vibrant that she distracted me at a fight and I almost got knocked out.
But I recovered—like I always do—and ended the fight so I could meet her. A month later, she was pregnant with Rianna. We were only eighteen, and the rest is history. She finally gave me a purpose. Looking back on things, I know the girls are what kept us together for as long as we were. Well, for as long as Georgia could handle it before leaving.
Our relationship wasn’t all bad, as fucked up as it was, we had some really good times. I loved her unconditionally, drinking and all. I just wish she’d loved me the same way and that I wasn’t second to her drinking. I’m not too blind to my own faults. I may have loved her with every breath I took, but I still put her second to my fighting, which made me just as bad as she was, or worse. Since it took her leaving to get me to stop fighting.
When I walk into Pasqual’s, Chandler already has a table in the bar area. I wave to the hostess as I go to greet him.
“What up, bitch?”
I chuckle and give him a friendly handshake. “Not much, what’d I miss today?”
He looks off, pondering my question, and then says, “Veronica gave me an amazing blow job in the conference room.”
“What the fuck? We just hired her.”
“I know, isn’t she hot?”
“You gotta stop banging all of our receptionists.”
“I didn’t bang her,” he says as the waitress brings the drinks he already ordered for us.
“Close enough.” As she sets a third drink down across from me, I know Mia will be joining us shortly.
Shit, why didn’t I ask if she was going to be here?
When she was in college out of state, I never had to worry about it, but now that she’s back in Boston, I guess it’s going to be a problem. She’s gonna hate to see me.
“You didn’t want to bang her, did you?”
“Who?” I look up at him, pulling my eyes away from the third drink.
“Veronica, dumbass.”
“No! So, did you bang her?”
“She sucked me off and then laid me back on the table and rode me, I didn’t ask her to. Technically, I d
idn’t bang her, she banged me.”
I take in a huge sip of my whiskey and can barely swallow it before Mia walks through the door, drawing all my attention—and that of every other man—toward her. I don’t look at them staring, though. I already know it will just piss me off and likely land me in a fight I don’t need.
“Mia!” Chandler hollers and waves her over to us. She smiles until she sees me, and that look changes.
Goddamn it!
As she walks to us, I swear it’s as if she’s floating. Her long, light brown hair bounces with each step, and her plump tits move in sync with her. I swallow, willing my cock to stay down. It was already pulsating during the interview today.
“Hey, Mia,” I say quietly, sounding and feeling a lot like a pussy.
“What’s up, sis?” Chandler stands and gives her a hug before they both take a seat. She doesn’t even offer me a handshake.
“How are you guys?” she asks, and I nod, feeling like a bobble head.
“I’m good, Roan . . . not so much. His girls are a mess. I know he said he doesn’t need your help, but after today, I really think you should help him out.”
“I can’t help him,” she says firmly and presses her hand against her chest. Her fingers against her skin remind me of how good they felt around my cock.
God, what I’d do to feel them again.
“Sure you can. Tell her what happened, Roan,” Chandler says. The waitress walks by, and I order another drink along with a round of shots. There is no way I’m getting through the night sober. Hell, I could use more than a shot right now, but I’ll take what I can get.
Chapter 6
Mia
As much as I’m pretending to be pissed that Roan is here, I’d probably be even more pissed if he weren’t. Deep down, I hoped he would be here tonight. The way my insides ignited seeing him again is something I can’t let go of, no matter how much I want to. I would never admit it aloud, but my mind has been consumed by all things Roan all day. And as cold as I act toward him, it’s all a front . . . a lie to hide my true feelings because I’m still hurt and pissed at him for leaving me the way he did.
“So, that’s my dilemma,” Roan says, sipping the last of yet another drink. I have no idea what he just said, but I play like I do.
My brother rolls his eyes and finally says, “I’ll never have kids!”
“Fuck you!” Roan jives back.
“Fuck you,” Chandler says. “I raised her. I’m done.” He’s referring to me, and how after we lost our parents, he became my legal guardian.
His phone buzzes on the table, and like usual, it distracts him. He’s like a dog seeing a squirrel when it comes to his phone. Roan looks at me with that all-to-familiar look, and I can’t keep my eyes on his. I have to look away.
Focus on breathing, Mia.
“Fuck,” Chandler mutters under his breath, but we both hear him and look over.
“What’s the matter?” I ask, and he turns his phone toward us, showing us a familiar naked woman on the screen.
“Is that Veronica?” Roan asks. The name registers in my mind, but it takes a second for it to click. It’s the cute receptionist I met earlier today at their office.
No way is that her.
“Yep, I’m gonna go get me some of that.” Without another word, he’s gone, taking the small amount of ease I felt with him.
Roan and I anxiously look at one another, and I say, “I should go, too.”
“Okay,” Roan agrees with me, but the truth is that I don’t want to go anywhere. I still want him in every way imaginable. Even if it ends the same way, I can’t deny what I’m feeling.
God, I’m pathetic.
“Do you want me to walk you to your car?” he asks.
I’m about to tell him yes when the waitress stops at our table. “Another round?”
I swallow, letting Roan make the decision, and my heart hurts when he says, “No thanks, we’re done.”
The waitress hands him a bill, which he pays for in cash. I reach into my wallet to give him some money, but he has that look in his eyes, the one that says, “Don’t you fuckin’ dare.”
“Where are you parked?”
“Just down the street.”
“Okay.” He stands, and I follow, letting him lead me to the door. I sense everyone watching us, but I only have eyes for Roan. No one in this world compares to his dark eyes and dark hair, and it kills me that all we’ll ever have is that one night together.
The evening is cool, and a shiver runs through me. I run my hands up and down my arms. Roan removes his coat before sliding it over my shoulders, which makes me smile a bit. At least that part of him hasn’t changed over the years. Always the gentlemen. I dip my chin without him noticing and breathe in his intoxicating scent.
“Thanks,” I tell him.
“Anything for you. You know that.” His words have a deeper meaning, and even though I know he’s trying to be sweet, they hurt me.
“How do I know that?” I question him, the alcohol making me feel very brave.
“You’re right, Mia, you shouldn’t know that.”
“Then why say it?” I argue.
“It was a mistake.”
“Just like the night we were together. That was a mistake, too, huh?”
“No. Never.”
I don’t believe him for one second. “Then why leave me like you did? You snuck out after you promised me you’d stay.”
“I had to, Mia.”
“You didn’t.” I stop walking and let the anger race through me as I look into his alluring eyes.
“I did. It was the right thing to do for you.”
I scoff and give him an incredulous look. “Since when do you get to make those choices for me? You left me like some trashy whore with no good explanation and then never spoke to me again. How can you even think it was the right thing?”
“Because I’m fucked up!”
“So am I . . . we all are! Don’t you see that?”
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, looking down at the ground, his jaw tightly clenched. He’s starting to shut down, which is something I know well. There were so many times when we worked together that he almost gave in, but each time ended with the same hands in the pockets, closed off, jaw tight expression. He fought the connection between us for so long and then when he finally gave in, I thought I’d gotten through. Something within him changed for that one night, but like all things in my life, it was too good to last.
He’s looking off in the distance, not making eye contact with me. “You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Pushing me away.”
“No, I’m not. I’m walking you to your car. I let you borrow my coat. I’m trying here, Mia.”
Angrily, I push his coat off my shoulders and tell him, “I don’t want your coat or a simple walk to my car. I want you to let me in.” I can’t believe the words I just spoke as they ring in my ears.
“I . . . I’m no good for you, trust me, I wish I were.”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it. You feel what I do just as much, but you’re too afraid to give in because of what Georgia did to you.”
“That’s not it, Mia.” His words are a lie, and each deceitful syllable breaks my heart.
“Then tell me what the fuck it is?” I plead with him, as I grab his face and try to force him to look at me. But he refuses to turn his head. “This is the only chance I’ll give you, Roan!” He stands frozen, the emotionlessness from him pushing me further away. I remove my hands from him, and he doesn’t move. I step away, silently willing his eyes to find mine, but his gaze stays locked somewhere in the distance. It’s then that I realize what a fool I am. All these years, I thought that maybe if I had just one chance to tell him how I felt, it would be enough. Clearly, I was wrong. So, I pull together the last of my self-respect, turn and walk away.
Chapter 7
Roan
Watching Mia walk away from me kills me. I don’t w
ant to push her out of my life, but it’s for her own good. She deserves so much more than I can give her. A man . . . a real, unbroken man who can treat her like a princess.
I lift my coat from the ground and bring it to my nose. She barely wore it for five minutes, but I can still smell her on it. Anger consumes me, knowing I’ll never be with her again. An inevitable rage seemingly comes out of nowhere, and I only know how to get rid of it one-way.
I need to fight.
I walk back to my car, keeping my head down and my eyes to myself.
“I want you to let me in.” Her words ring loud in my mind.
No, she doesn’t!
She may think that’s what she wants, but she doesn’t know me, not the real me. The side that is a barely leashed monster isn’t something she would want, the same way Georgia didn’t want it. As much as I yearn for her, I can’t be with her. I get into my car and call my buddy from the gym to see if he’s still there to spar with. I need to do something. As the phone rings, I hear a honk and look in my mirror to see a car waiting for my parking spot with their blinker on.
I barely started the engine, so I ignore them, knowing I don’t move for anyone, but they honk again, and the guy throws his arms up in the air at me. I toss my phone aside, not sure if I hung up or not and open my car door.
“You leaving or what, bro?” some young punk asks me as I stalk toward his sleek black Mercedes. I reach for his door handle, yank it open, and drag him out by his throat.
“You’ll know I’m leaving, when I’m fucking gone,” I tell him and cock back a right jab, looking him square in the face.
“I don’t want any trouble,” he says, but before he can speak another word, I land the hardest punch I can manage. My knuckles pop against his skin, the impact so loud my ears buzz, and that one hit lays him out cold.
His body folds like a crushed can, and I toss him back into his car, get into mine, and drive off. My left hand is on the wheel, gripping it tightly, and my right is still balled into a fist. The feeling of his skin beneath my knuckles is so freeing, but that one hit is not enough. Fury still consumes me. One-hit fights never do shit for me, I should know that. But sometimes I’m a loose cannon.
