Wildflower (Colors #4)

by Jessica Prince

  “Not sure that’ll ever happen,” I mumbled under my breath.

  Noah raised his arm to flag down a passing waiter and ordered a beer for himself and another for me before saying, “I’ll wear you down eventually, baby.”

  “Oh yes,” I deadpanned. “Because I find arrogance so attractive.”

  In the blink of an eye, Noah was in my space completely, nearly nose-to-nose as he said in a low, sultry voice that wreaked havoc on my heart, “It has nothing to do with arrogance and everything to do with the fact that we were made to be together. You think I’m pushy now? Just wait, wildflower. You were created for me—that knowledge hasn’t changed in the past half-decade. I know it now just as much as I knew it back then. I fucked up, but I swear to God, if it’s the last thing I do, I will get you back. In my life and in my bed.”

  With that impassioned speech, my brain malfunctioned and I forgot to breathe. Once my synapses were firing correctly again, only one thought bounced through my mind.

  I was undeniably fucked.

  I couldn’t remember ever feeling more exhausted in my life. I thought being an assistant was hard. But spending all day teaching a bunch of horny, irritating kids? Well, I felt like I should have been nominated for sainthood.

  I needed wine… or tequila. STAT.

  On top of the torture that was teaching high school, I was working hourly trying to build up my defenses to protect against all things Noah. But the man was nothing if not persistent. Each day since that night at the Drunken Moose, my shield had taken one hit after another. From him bringing me coffee from Sinful Sweets every day to finding him shoveling the snow off my windshield in the parking lot on his off-periods, he was slowly but surely causing irreparable damage to what had once been a steel-enforced, barbed wire wall.

  I didn’t know whether to scream in frustration or tackle him to the ground and rip his clothes off. Needless to say, my current dilemma had led to many sleepless nights and I was more than just a little cranky.

  I pushed through the front door, dumping my bags on the table in the entry before hanging my purse and coat on the hook. I made a beeline for the kitchen with the wine I’d wisely purchased on the way home in hand. I’d been so desperate while standing in the aisle at Smith’s that I wasn’t worried about quality. All I had in mind was quantity. Hence the box of wine I had clutched to my chest like it was my precious baby.

  “Ethan!” I yelled toward the staircase. “You home?” I listened for any sounds of him as I rummaged through the cabinets, looking for my stem-less wine glasses. I might have planned to drink my weight in boxed wine, but I refused to do it in anything other than a wine glass. After all, I wasn’t an animal.

  The faint thump of music from Ethan’s room became more distinct as I climbed the stairs, freshly-poured glass in hand.

  “Hey, Ethan, I was thinking Chinese for dinner,” I called out. I took a gulp and pushed his bedroom door open. “What do you thi—ARGH! MY EYES!”

  The glass fell from my hand and shattered against the wood floor as I tried to block out what I was seeing in front of me.

  “What the hell, Harlow!” Ethan shouted as the sounds of a girl shrieking stabbed at my eardrums.

  “What the hell?” I yelled back. “You don’t say what the hell! I say what the hell! What the hell, Ethan! Ohmigod! You have two fucking seconds to get dressed and get your ass downstairs, and so help me God, if your… friend isn’t out of this house by then I’m gonna lose my shit!”

  Uncovering my eyes, I turned and rushed down the stairs like my ass was on fire.

  Fuck having standards. I needed booze and I needed it before my eyeballs were seared at the sight of my little brother hooking up with a girl. Grabbing one of the ginormous plastic cups I got at the dollar store, I held it under the spout and filled it to the brim, chugging half of it as footsteps thundered down the staircase. I heard the front door open and slam closed just as I finished my wine off and went back for more.

  Seconds after the door slammed, a very unhappy Ethan came charging into the kitchen, geared for battle. Unfortunately for him, being driven to near blindness pissed me the ever-loving-hell off and I had ten years on him.

  “What the fuck was that?!” he all but shouted at me. “Do you have any idea what you just did? Shannon’s never gonna talk to me again.”

  “Hey! Watch your mouth!”

  “Oh my God! You cuss all the time!”

  “Because I’m the adult and you’re the kid, and you’ll show me some respect.” I stumbled back a step and put my hand on the counter to gain my balance. “Oh, dear Lord. I sound like a fucking grownup. And it’s all your fault!” I pointed at my brother.

  Okay, so I might have been a little irrational at that point, but who could blame me? I mean, really.

  “You two are fourteen years old! You have no business having sex. For the love of God, you’re not even supposed to know how to use it yet,” I cried as I waved in the direction of the front of his jeans. Then I gagged a little.

  “We weren’t having sex, crazy! We were just making out.”

  “Neither of you were wearing shirts and your pants were undone. And believe me, that’s the last thing I ever wanted to see. Two fourteen year olds have no business being alone in a bedroom when no one’s home, Ethan!”

  “Shannon’s not fourteen. She’s sixteen. And she’s the most popular girl in school, so thanks for ruining my reputation.”

  My eyes went wide and my jaw dropped. “She’s sixteen?” I shrieked so loud the windows rattled. “That little slut! Get me your phone. I’m calling her mother.”

  “You’ve lost your mind! You’re not calling her mother. Are you trying to ruin the rest of high school for me?”

  “If all you do is spend your time with fast little girls like Shannon, then yeah, I am!”

  “She’s not fast! God, you’re being so lame! She’s friends with Kyle’s girlfriend. She’s really cool, and she likes me, or at least she did, until my sister turned into a psycho.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “Well then you need to start picking better friends. Clearly Kyle has piss-poor taste.”

  “He does not! And I don’t need new friends. I’ve got the team.”

  “That’s part of the problem, Ethan. You’re the youngest one on the team by at least a year. You don’t hang out with anyone your own age.”

  Ethan let out a humorless bark. “You’ve lost it,” he said as he turned to storm up the stairs.

  “I haven’t lost shit!” I shouted after him, even though I was pretty sure I had lost it. “And you’re grounded, mister!”

  Yep, I’d totally lost it.

  “You’re ruining my life!” he yelled just as his bedroom door slammed shut.

  I scoffed. “Oh please, like I haven’t pulled that melodramatic shit before. I’m better at it than you!” I called, but his music was already blaring so he didn’t hear me.

  That really hadn’t gone well at all.

  And there was one person in particular that I blamed.

  Whether I was being rational or not.

  I had no idea where Noah lived, but I was angry enough to brave the cold, jump into my grandmother’s piece of shit truck—I really needed to look into trading it in—and hunting his ass down.

  If I had been in a reasonable frame of mind, I would have stopped long enough to realize that Noah wasn’t to blame. But, clearly, having just walked in on my little brother dry humping that little skank, I wasn’t feeling all that sane. And I desperately needed somewhere to deposit all my irrational fury.

  Taking a chance that he was still living in his parents’ old house, even though I’d heard through the grapevine that they’d retired to Florida, I pointed the truck in that direction and floored it. Unfortunately, the truck refused to go over forty miles an hour, so by the time I made it to the Murphys’ house—luckily I’d been right, Noah’s SUV was parked in the driveway—I was steaming mad. I wanted to rip Noah a new asshole, then take a sledgehammer to th
at poor excuse of a motor vehicle.

  My tires squealed as I skidded to an abrupt halt in the driveway, the truck barely in park before throwing the door open and stomping out.

  The porch light clicked on, illuminating the entryway and part of the snow-covered yard just before the door slung open. “Harlow? What the hell? Is everything okay?”

  Don’t look at his bare chest. Don’t look at his bare chest. Don’t look at his bare chest.

  Damn it! I looked!

  “No, everything is not okay!” I exclaimed as I clomped up the front stairs, trying in vain not to notice just how sexy Noah looked standing there, wearing nothing but a pair of flannel sleep pants. “I’m pissed off and you aren’t wearing a shirt! Do you have any idea how hard it is to yell at you when you’re not wearing a shirt?”

  If I hadn’t been so focused on his smooth, perfect skin that covered large mounds of muscle glowing in the light from the front porch, I wouldn’t have missed the shit-eating grin that spread across his face.

  “Fair is fair, wildflower. You take yours off too and we’ll call it even.”

  Ignoring his lighthearted demeanor, I pushed forward, taking the steps at a quick clip until I was in his face. “This is all your fault!”

  I saw Noah’s expression shudder, the humor quickly fled as his entire body went on alert. “I’m all for taking blame when it’s due, Harlow,” he started as he crossed his arms over his thick chest. “But maybe you’d like to enlighten me on what it is that’s all my fault before I fall on that particular sword.”

  “Ethan!” I shouted that one word like it was all the explanation he needed.

  “Uh… gotta say, baby. I’m a little stumped here. What exactly did I do to Ethan?”

  “I just caught him seconds away from screwing some sixteen year old skank!” I continued to shout. “He’s only fourteen, for Christ’s sake!”

  I didn’t miss the twitch of Noah’s lips as he worked hard to suppress his grin. And it did nothing but fuel that angry fire burning deep in my belly.

  “Sweetheart,” he started in a low, rumbling voice that usually would have my insides quivering. Not so much just then. “I think we should take this inside before you wake the whole neighborhood.”

  “I don’t care about the damned neighborhood!” I screeched. “I care about the fact that I walked in on my little brother, half naked, alone with an older girl, and he didn’t see a goddamned thing wrong with it because it’s what all the other guys on the team are doing.” I finished with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

  “Again, wildflower. Not seeing how this is something that’s my fault.”

  “You’re turning him into you!” On that, I drilled my finger into the bare skin of his pec and continued on my rampage. “He’s just a fucking kid, but he lives, eats, breathes, and sleeps football! The only kids he hangs out with are the other guys on the team, the only thing he talks about is football, and if it weren’t for his stupid video games, there wouldn’t be anything else in his life that mattered more than that stupid fucking game. Your game! You’re shoving your own failed dreams down my little brother’s throat, so desperate to relive your glory days, you don’t give a shit about the fact that it’s bordering on an unhealthy obsession.”

  I was on a roll, so dead-set on spewing out my fury that I’d barely stopped to take a breath. Fury I hadn’t even realized I was holding on so tightly to. Fury that I’d ignorantly convinced myself I’d let go of so as not to be stuck in the past. Obviously, I’d been wrong. It was still there, buried deep inside of me, but there nonetheless.

  “Get in the house,” Noah hissed between clenched teeth. His face had gone thunderous and I was suddenly struck with the realization that there had only been a few times in my life that I’d seen that kind of anger from him. And each of those times I’d more than deserved his wrath.

  I belatedly realized that I had made a huge mistake in letting my emotions get the better of me. I hadn’t stopped to think, that much was certain. And standing in front of a Noah that looked ready to breathe fire, I suddenly wished I’d never stormed out of my house, hell bent for leather.

  In that very moment, he was utterly terrifying.

  “Uh…” I mumbled, taking a cautious step back.

  “House, Harlow,” he ground out.

  “Maybe I should—” I started, only to end on a yelp as Noah’s hand shot out and wrapped around my forearm. His grip wasn’t painful, but strong enough for me to know he wasn’t playing around.

  “Ass. In. The. House. You wanted to rush over here like a bat outta hell and lay into me for shit that has nothing to do with me, you did it. Now it’s my turn to speak my peace. But I won’t be doing it on the front porch for all my fucking neighbors’ entertainment. Get. Inside. Now.”

  Making the very first wise decision of the evening, I followed his order and moved into the house.

  Silently cursing myself with every step I took.

  Son of a bitch.

  There wasn’t much I didn’t remember about my time with Harlow, but it wasn’t until she’d shown up on my doorstep in the dark of night, throwing some serious fucking attitude, that I remembered just how dirty we fought.

  It most definitely wasn’t something we did often. I could probably count on one hand the number of times we’d gotten into fights during our relationship. But when we did, we did it big. And we did it nasty. That fire in Harlow that burned bright and made me hard could also scorch the hell out of you on the rare occasion you got too close.

  But I wasn’t one to ever back down.

  So I didn’t.

  She’d fight and I’d fight back.

  She threw attitude, I gave just as good as I got.

  It wasn’t the smartest way to fight—or, hell, even the healthiest—but it was how we did it. Back then, we’d been so passionate about each other and our relationship that sometimes that passion could turn a little ugly when we got carried away.

  So when I released Harlow’s arm and slammed the front door behind us, I was battling my rage at the same time I was battling the massive hard-on tenting the front of my pants.

  Some people might have thought it twisted, but there hadn’t been a woman since Harlow that made me feel even half as good as I felt when I was with her, whether we were fighting or not. So I took the good with the bad.

  Because the good made the bad seem infinitesimal.

  “Noah…” Harlow began, raising her hands in a placating gesture as she took two steps back into the living room.

  “No,” I cut her off prowling toward her. I had no doubt, with the anger coursing through me, that I looked like a lion hunting his prey as I backed her farther and farther into the room, stopping less than a foot from her once her back hit the wall. “You had your say, now I’m having mine. You want to throw shit in my face, go for it. But you better make goddamned certain I deserve the shit you’re shoveling. And I’m telling you right now, Harlow, the bullshit you’re trying to put on me right now is just that—bullshit. I won’t stand here and let you accuse me of trying to do anything to Ethan other than coach him in a game he loves.”

  “Noah… just listen—”

  “Done listening, baby,” I growled, my blood still boiling in my veins. “Now it’s your turn. You wanna know why that boy lives and breathes football? Cause when his grandma started getting sick, that was the only fuckin’ thing he had to keep his mind off the fact that he was about to lose the woman who raised him. His sister was half a goddamned country away—living her own life—while he was stuck in a house watching the woman he loved like a mother wither away before his fuckin’ eyes. That’s not on me, sweetheart, that’s all on you. You want to point fingers, you better be willing to look in the mirror and take the blame you damn well earned.”

  Those unique eyes of hers flashed and I could see that fire building inside her once again. “That’s not fair, Noah!”

  “You wanna talk about fair?” I barked out a humorless laugh. “Fine, let’s do that. What’
s not fair is you swaying your ass up my porch accusing me of trying to live vicariously through your brother. What’s not fair is you telling me you forgive me then throwing every goddamned thing I’ve done, and some I haven’t, in my face the first fuckin’ chance you get! What’s not fair is walking away from me damn near six years ago without letting me fight to get back what we lost! What’s not fuckin’ fair is that you took yourself away from me, and no matter what hoops I jump through, no matter how hard I try to prove to you I’m not the guy I was back then, you still won’t give yourself back to me!” I ended on a bellow.

  It wasn’t until I was finished with my tirade that I realized I’d moved in so close we were practically nose-to-nose, both of our chests rising and falling like we’d just ran a marathon.

  “I fucked up. I’ve said that over and over. I’ve apologized to you until I was blue in the face, but you refuse to move on from the past. You think you’re the only one that’s suffered all these years? My life’s been a goddamned joke since you walked away from me. I was such a fucking wreck once you were gone, I didn’t care about anything. Not college, not football, nothing. I spent my Freshman and Sophomore years drinking my way through every bottle I could get my hands on. My grades were in the toilet. I practiced with a hangover almost every damn day. I played like shit because I didn’t care. I lost you and I didn’t care about anything else. You wanna know what happened to my dreams of going pro? I fucked those up just like I did everything else! I drank myself blind one night, got behind the wheel of my car, and drove the son of a bitch into a tree. Jacked my knee to hell and tore my shoulder up in a way neither would ever heal right.”

  “Oh God, Noah,” she gasped, her eyes going wide at my shocking admission, but I wasn’t done.

  “I managed to graduate by the skin of my teeth after I lost my scholarship. My parents were pissed they had to shell out the cash for the rest of my education, but I worked my ass off to pull myself out of the hole I’d dug, and I paid them back. I moved back here all alone. My folks were already in Florida by then. I had no family, the few friends I had knew exactly what I’d done to lose you, so saying it wasn’t easy is the fuckin’ definition of an understatement. But you wanna know why I did it?”