“Did you kiss him?” The gruff question left my mouth before it had formulated in my head, and I could have fucking kicked myself for it. Because that wasn’t the issue here. Or it shouldn’t have been.
Lissa tossed me a withering look and wrapped her arms tight around her shivering body. My jaw locked, heart rate spiked. I’d been standing here stewing over the fact she might have kissed some asshole, while she was fucking freezing to death, wearing a crop top in December. I’d just stopped myself from beating that fucker’s ass into oblivion for doing the same thing.
“Where the fuck is your coat, Alissa?” I demanded again, shrugging out of my jacket. I barely stopped myself from grabbing her stiff arms and forcing them through the sleeves when she pushed it away. “Fucking put it on. You might have a heart of ice, but I bet your ass can still freeze to death.”
Her brows slanted down, and she stalked off again.
Pinching the bridge of my nose between my thumb and finger, I strove for calm, but I was riled to the point of exploding. Seeing that slimy asshole’s hands all over her…
I couldn’t decide whether it was the fact that Jackson might have put his hands on her without her consent, or the idea she might have fucking kissed him first that had me worked up the most. All I knew was it all pissed me off beyond measure, pushing at the confines of my skull as I took off after her for a second time.
The tirade I was about to launch into, about how fucking stubborn and pig-headed she was, got lodged in my throat when her slim body hunched forward.
“Hey,” I murmured, tugging her round to face me.
She stood still for a few seconds with her chin down, then pushed out of my hold and rounded the side of her car.
“Lissa. Just fucking… stop a minute.”
She paused, then pivoted to face me, a blank expression on her pale face. “What?”
“Did he do anything you didn’t want him to?” My voice came out strained.
Glancing away, she gave her head a shake, answering with a short, “No”. Then she reached inside the concealed zip pocket by her hip and fished out a set of keys.
My eyes narrowed when she turned her head away and swiped a hand over her reddened cheeks.
Keeping my eyes trained on the side of her face, I asked, “Did he hurt you?”
A quick snort erupted from her flared nostrils, and her piercing blue eyes snared mine with a derisive glare. “Did he hurt me?”
The accusation in her voice stumped me.
At my look of confusion, she shook her head with a resigned sigh, then asked, “What if he did? Hurt me? What is it to you?”
My jaw twitched as I held her stare. How the fuck to answer her?
I wish I fucking knew.
I’d take exception to any guy forcing himself on a girl half his size, but this was more than that. More than I could wrap my head around. More than I could explain to her in any way that would make sense. It felt personal in a way I didn’t understand.
I just knew I didn’t want to see any other guy’s hands on her. That I wanted to fucking maul Bateman for touching her. That I wanted to throw her over my shoulder and take her home with me.
But I couldn’t say that shit out loud. I’d sound like a fucking nutcase.
She took my silence for an answer and nodded once before reaching for the door on the driver’s side.
“Where are you going?” I asked with a sigh.
“Home,” she muttered without looking at me.
My brows pulled together. “You’ve been drinking.”
“Yeah. So?”
Was she fucking for real? I pinned her with a heavy stare. “So, you sure as shit ain’t driving yourself home, Snow Queen.”
Her brows twitched, face hard when she looked at me. “Tell me again what I can or can’t fucking do, Bradshaw.”
Striding toward her, I snatched the keys from her grasp with a muttered, “Do your fucking worst, sweetheart. If you think for one second I’m letting you drive tonight, you’re even crazier than I thought.”
She thrust her hand out. “Give me the keys.”
I widened my stance, planting my feet inches from hers and waiting until she craned her head back to meet my gaze. “No.”
Her eyes narrowed to slits. “Now, Bradshaw.” The words squeezed out through tightly clenched teeth, slightly distorted.
Bending my upper body forward, I snagged her gaze. “Read my lips, Alissa… Hell. Fucking. No.”
Her hands flexed at her sides as she drew in a breath. “I’m going to kill you—”
“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, dismissing her as I straightened and strolled round to the passenger side. “You’ve been threatening to kill me since we were fucking five years old. Save it for tonight and get your ass in the car. I’ll drive you home.”
I swung the door wide and glanced up with both brows raised, daring her to fucking argue with me. Her lips settled into a harsh slash across her face as she glared over the roof of the car.
“I don’t fucking need you to drive me—”
“And I don’t give a fuck. Get in.”
Lissa clamped her mouth shut, but her eyes raged. She could fucking burn me to ash with them, I didn’t give a shit. If I had to throw her damn ass in the car and strap her down, then so fucking be it. No way was she driving.
She glared for a few seconds, then thrust her chin in the air and walked around the car. She slumped into the passenger seat without scratching my eyeballs out—as close to a win as I’d ever get from Lissa.
She didn’t look up as I rounded the car and lowered myself into the driver’s seat, reaching up to adjust the mirrors. She didn’t move an inch when I stretched my arm out behind her head and backed her car out of the makeshift parking spot, gravel crunching under the tires. She didn’t so much as twitch as my gaze lingered on the side of her head for a beat too long, trying to figure out what the hell was going on in mine.
Brow furrowed, I turned my gaze out the front windshield and shifted into drive. A heavy silence saturated the car as I drove us across town with Lissa clearly intent on giving me the silent treatment. I stole glances at her prone form every few seconds, watched her drag a fingertip through the condensation on the glass and draw out a circle with two dots for eyes and a line curving up at both sides. She stared at it for a few seconds, then made a fist and wiped it away before dropping the side of her head against the window.
The longer the silence stretched on, the more awkward the atmosphere became. This might have been the longest we’d ever gone without her insulting me. And weirdly enough, I fucking missed it. Clearing my throat roughly, I shifted in my seat and stopped at a set of lights.
Angling my head toward her, I murmured, “Ready to tell me what happened back there?”
She hesitated long enough I didn’t think she was going to answer. Then a listless shoulder tipped up. “I kissed him; he took it too far. I was seconds away from ramming a kneecap in his ball sack when you charged in. I had it handled. Nothing to get your tighty whities all wadded up over.” Her head rolled slowly on her shoulders, sliding along the fabric of the seat as she brought her weary gaze to mine and murmured, “I don’t need you to save me, Pretty Boy.”
Her words said one thing, but something was off. The girl slumped in the passenger seat wasn’t the ball-busting bad-ass we all knew and loved. She might not need saving, but something was wrong, and whether or not she wanted me to, I needed to fucking fix it.
Her face fell as I sat and watched her. I swallowed hard, blinking when the light flashed green in my peripheral. I rammed my foot down, pumping the gas too hard, and we both jolted forward when the car lurched. She said nothing, and neither did I. The quiet inside the car resumed, but my mind wouldn’t fucking let up as I traversed the streets.
The loudest thought?
She kissed him.
The bones in my jaw ached from all the grinding, and by the time I eased the car onto Lissa’s street, I’d convinced myself I needed to go back a
nd smash Jackson’s face to pulp. I passed Lissa a sidelong glance as we drew up beside her house, and noticed her body stiffen, her fingernails digging into the seat cushion either side of her thighs.
“I don’t want to go home yet,” she blurted.
“What?” My brows knitted.
“Just… keep driving.” She looked my way, and the plea in those big, blue eyes yanked on my fucking heart strings. “Please.”
I nodded as I sped past her house, my gaze never straying from her face.
A heavy blanket of impotence smothered me when Lissa’s lids squeezed closed, and she slouched back against the window, her short breaths fogging up the glass.
On a normal day, there was a near-constant push-and-pull between us. I fucking hated this. I kept one hand on the wheel and grasped the back of my neck with the other, fitting my head against the headrest, my eyes on her.
“Danny’s having a party.” My voice came out coarse, and I coughed lightly to clear it. “Wanna go?”
Lissa gave her head an almost imperceptible shake.
I flicked a quick look back to the road ahead, slowing at another red light. “You wanna come back to the trailer?”
Her chest lifted, shoulders stiffening, then after a brief pause, she said, “Okay.”
Errant thoughts scrambled my brain as I sat and stared a hole into the side of her face. The lights shifted from red, to green, and back again before I dragged my head out of my ass and put the car into motion.
I couldn’t fucking stand seeing Lissa so subdued. I liked her fire, her bite, her sharp tongue.
I’d take a hundred fucking tongue lashings from her, if it meant she wasn’t hurting.
SEVENTEEN
LISS
The lights flickered on overhead as I walked into the trailer behind Leon. My legs locked in place as I hesitated in the doorway, questioning my decision to accept his invitation. I’d tossed it around in my mind the entire drive over, going back and forth. But the thought of going back home…
I wasn’t ready to deal with it.
From my vantage point by the door, I observed Leon as he collected empty soda cans and chip packets from the floor before depositing them in the trash.
“Still living like a pig, I see.” It was easy to fall into my default mode, but my tone came out lighter than intended. I drew my lip between my teeth and bit down.
Just act fucking normal.
But that was easier said than done. When Leon’s blonde head came up, a familiar half grin tugging at his lips, I became hyper aware of the fact I’d spent the last couple of months scoping this guy’s social media pages and trying to dislodge the image of that smirk from my head.
“This is tidy compared to normal,” he told me with a quick wink.
When my lips twitched, I dipped my gaze to my sneaker-clad feet and crossed my arms over my chest, refusing to let the smile take root.
“You coming in, Snow Queen?” Leon’s playful drawl pulled my head up, and I swallowed roughly as he folded his thick arms across his bulky chest and propped a hip against the counter, those ocean blues poised on my face. “Or were you planning on hanging out by the door all night?”
My mouth tilted again, and I cleared my throat. “I don’t know, Pretty Boy. What are the chances I’ll catch something if I sit down in here?”
“Ahh… there she is.” His lips hooked up, his expression softening as he straightened to his full height—six foot of blatant masculinity draped in tight, black cotton that molded to every carved ridge of his ripped abdomen.
I pried my gluttonous eyes from the chiselled torso his shirt failed to hide, making it as far as his face, which wasn’t much better for my sanity. The muscle that pulsed in his jaw as he shifted his weight amplified the building tension in the room, and Leon’s eyes darkened as they searched mine, flickering from hungry to curious, like he couldn't decide whether to interrogate me or strip me naked.
My legs weakened at the thought. I withdrew my gaze with a jerk of my head, but all the feeling and awareness I’d tried to ignore came crashing down on top of me.
It suddenly occurred to me I had no clue how to act around him anymore.
Seeing his face on a computer screen didn’t hold a torch to seeing it in person. Seeing him as more than just the guy who bugged the crap out of me? I was still struggling to process that.
In an effort to gain some perspective, I reminded myself he’d likely spent his summer, and every weekend since, slamming his dick into an assortment of skanks.
But then came the jealousy.
I paced to the couch then stopped, peering back over my shoulder with a questioning brow hiked.
Leon flashed a grin and wagged his head. “Don’t bring girls back here, Snow Queen,” he assured me with another wink, then turned to pull open the fridge door. “Can I get you anything?”
“No. Thanks,” I said, sitting as he snagged a tumbler from the cabinet and positioned it under the faucet.
He filled it halfway, then walked over to me and held it out. “Drink this.”
Narrowing my eyes, I wrapped my hand around it.
“Want to tell me what’s bothering you?” he asked quietly, hovering over me.
My fingers constricted around the glass; his question forcing my mom’s revelation to the surface. I flattened my lips. “What makes you think something’s bothering me?”
His head tilted. “You seem different. Quieter. Sad, maybe.”
The fact he’d noticed threw me for a loop, and I jumped on the defensive without thinking—a knee-jerk reaction. “Don’t act like you know me, Pretty Boy. You don’t know anything about me.”
Leon’s eyes flared with heat. “You think I don’t know you, Alissa?”
The husky timbre of his voice brushed over me like crushed velvet. Like soft summer rain to the spark of anger lighting inside of me, snuffing it out before it had the chance to flame. I was left floundering, trying to figure out what the hell to feel.
“Why not bring girls here?” I asked, diverting the conversation away from me.
Leon stared down a while longer. “Easier to get out before they wake up. Avoids the awkward morning after conversation.”
And that’s why we don’t listen to pretty boys and their pretty fucking words.
My heart tanked into my stomach as his words sunk in. “You’re an asshole,” I muttered, jerking to my feet.
That’s what lurked behind every GQ cover face—a guy who wanted to get laid, then get out.
I knew it; I just hadn’t realized how much I’d hoped this guy might prove me wrong. Might actually be something more; something different.
I slammed the glass into his chest and muttered, “I’m leaving.”
Leon’s thick brows drew down over his eyes as I stalked past him, but his head was shaking before I’d finished speaking. “Already told you, sweetheart, I’m not letting you drive tonight.”
My heart clenched. He had to stop calling me sweetheart, and I had to quit reacting to it. The assertive edge to his voice stoked the fires of my libido even as my brain rejected his command. Didn’t matter who he was or what he looked like, I wouldn’t just stand back and take orders.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do, Pretty Boy. I’m not one of the mindless bimbos you run out on in the middle of the night.”
Slowly closing the distance between us, he narrowed his eyes on my face. “We can always change that, Snow Queen.”
His gravelly voice clung to my skin like molasses, and I knew I’d need a goddamn shower to shake that shit off.
“Please,” I scoffed, but the erratic thump of my heartbeat played like a bass drum in my ears. “Your dick’s probably seen more pussy than a toilet seat. Sex with you should be considered a health hazard. Pretty sure my insurance plan wouldn’t cover it.”
The sexiest smile I’d ever seen on anyone slowly worked its way over Leon’s face as he scrubbed his fingers over the layer of scruff coating his jaw, his steel-blue eyes slamming into m
ine with a blistering intensity. “I’ll make it worth it, Lissa.”
Hot waves of desire coursed through my veins, and I lengthened my spine, driving my head back.
“I don’t doubt it with all the practice you got in these last few months.” That was all I had, the only weapon in my arsenal. I couldn’t fight my attraction to him, or my body’s response to his presence, but I wouldn’t just let myself forget everything else in the face of it. He was a notorious playboy, and I was at risk of forgetting that fact. “Blondes, brunettes, redheads. You’re going through the fucking rainbow of hair colors. You know the tits on that redhead from the other weekend were totally fake, right?”
The instant Leon’s eyes widened, I knew what I’d done—taken the one weapon I had and shot myself in the face with it.
Fuck.
I whirled for the door, but Leon was faster. In a split second, he had my front pressed up against it, two dense arms quickly caging me from behind as he planted his hands against the surface. Every solid inch of his chest aligned with my back and my breaths grew shallow.
This was the closest I'd been to him in eight months, and the contact set the rhythm of my heart soaring. My tongue darted out to lick my lips when his warm breath skated over my temple.
I should have moved, pushed him away. Nothing about being trapped in Leon's arms was sensible. Not when I knew how he felt about my best friend, or how he used and discarded women. Not when I felt the strength of my resolve ebbing the longer I stayed in the circle of his arms… and especially not when there was something so achingly familiar about his touch, something that generated an overwhelming desire to turn and crush myself against him.
My pulse jack-hammered under my skin as his mouth grazed the shell of my ear and his gruff voice filtered through my ear. “Been stalking me, Snow Queen?”
Hot blood tingled in my cheeks and a tidal wave of humiliation rushed through me, almost taking my legs out from under me.
But it was too late to take it back now. I’d already opened my big fucking mouth and spewed that shit out. I had no other option but to own it.
Unthinkable: (Unstoppable - Book 2) (The Unstoppable Series) Page 11
