Twisted Love (Blinded Love Series Book 3) Read online

  The stark light of a new day popped the bubble we had last night, but I wished he was still lying next to me, holding me, keeping me safe in his arms. At least for a little while longer.

  The aroma of coffee tugged at my nose, my mouth watering. I fought against the tempting siren, not wanting to leave the comfort of his bed, because I forgot how amazing it was. The thought of having to face him, deal with the aftermath of my actions, had me pulling the sheet over my head with a groan.

  If his bedroom wasn’t two levels up from the ground, there was a good possibility I’d be leaping from the window. I never claimed to be mature. I was always willing to take the easy way out. Except my desire to keep my body in one piece and not base jump out of a window held slightly more sway.

  Sitting up, I rubbed my puffy face, streaks of dried tears made it feel tight. I shuffled to the bathroom connected to his room, flicking on the light.

  “Ugh.” I jerked back at my own reflection. My standard bold black eyeliner was smudged halfway down my face, half cried off, my hair a wild tangle, and my clothes wrinkled. All that came off were my sandals, as I’d fallen asleep in my shorts and tank from the night before.

  I looked like I felt, or how my mom would put it, “rode hard and put away wet.” And sadly, not ridden in the fun way.

  After washing my face and stealing some of his mouthwash, I felt a little better.

  Come on, Stevie. Pussy up. Because let’s be honest, saying grow a pair was just stupid and completely contradictory. Why do we act like the weakest part of a guy equals strength and brevity? Balls are the complete opposite. But a woman’s pussy…now that could take a lot. A mighty force.

  Taking a deep breath, I rolled back my shoulders and marched for the door. With every step I shoved the vulnerability I let him see last night behind a barrier. Night was like Vegas in Stevie land; what happened there, stayed there.

  The smell of coffee and cooking bacon reached me halfway down the stairs, my stomach growling angrily. I had only eaten half a slice of pizza the night before, and my belly was growling like some drama queen, exclaiming I was starving it to death.

  My bare toes hit the wood floor, hovering at the base of the stairs, watching Chris in the kitchen, cooking. He stood over the stove, bacon sizzling in the pan as he flipped the slices. A pan of fluffy scrambled eggs sat on the burner next to it.

  Lost in a trance, my eyes couldn’t peel away from him. Fuck, he was sexy. In only a pair of shorts, his tan sculpted back muscles coiled and twisted with every move.

  Moving forward meant I would have to confront my complete breakdown last night.

  My gaze darted to the front door, and I debated running for it, slipping out before he saw me. Pretend the night never happened.

  “Before you run, there’s coffee in the pot,” Chris stated, still facing the stove, his back to me.

  What the fuck? Did he have eyes in the back of his head? Hesitating, I gave my easy exit a fleeting glance, wishing I had been slightly quicker to bolt.

  “It’s unlocked.” Chris turned off the stove and flipped around, grabbing his mug. “Nothing’s keeping you here.”

  My mouth tugged down in a frown. “I have no idea what you mean.”

  “Please.” He tilted his head. “You don’t think I know you by now? That I wouldn’t be thinking the same exact thing as well?”

  “Right.” I scoffed. “I can’t get away with shit because you’ve already beat me to it.”

  “There’s been a few times you beat me to the door.” He leaned against the counter, his gaze raking over me.

  We were so similar we’d been almost competitive in our fear of commitment. Who could get out the fastest? Tripping and sabotaging the other to be the one to declare victory. This is why we would never work, I said to myself as I moved into the kitchen.

  “Coffee,” I said the excuse out loud, darting straight for the machine. “I’d run, but I need caffeine to even contemplate it.”

  He grinned behind his cup, nodding.

  I walked to the cupboard, knowing every inch of this kitchen. I opened the cabinet, my heart squeezing. Sitting on the bottom shelf was the cup he jokingly got me. A Disney coffee mug with Tarzan on it. He almost took it back when he saw how much my mouth enjoyed wrapping around that Tarzan, sucking down the caffeinated goodness.

  He still has it.

  It wasn’t hidden behind all the others or tossed out. There’s no way he could look at the cup and not think of me…

  “You still have it,” I said quietly, snagging it from the shelf. It was that perfect size and shape, which fit into my hands as if it belonged there.

  “Yeah.” He shrugged, turning back to the stove, grabbing the pans of food. “I forgot I had it. Want some breakfast?”

  I should leave. Get out while I could, but my stomach begged and pleaded for food. I was almost completely a vegetarian, but bacon didn’t count, right? It was its own food group.

  Pouring my only reason for getting up in the morning into my cup, I nodded. “I’m fucking starving.” I rubbed my belly, moving in closer to him, my shoulder brushing his arm.

  He went rigid, his grip tightening on the handle with a curt chuckle.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” He set the pans on hot pads upon the island. “Just had a déjà vu moment there.” He snorted, reaching for plates on the top shelf.

  Heat spread throughout my body. As much as we both claimed to run for the door during the brief time together, we had actually done the exact opposite. There seemed to always be a reason to stay a little longer. One more shag. We might as well grab food. Why not just see that movie? We definitely need to have sex again. It’s evening, might as well stay over.

  Rinse and repeat.

  He made me breakfast a lot after I claimed I would pass out from lack of food.

  “Well, I did keep you up all night, burning those calories. Guess it’s only right to feed you.” He winked, tossing me up on the counter, a grin widening his mouth.

  “You have to! I think it’s a law. Because me without food is not pretty. People get hurt.”

  “So, I’m a superhero? I feed you and protect the people from your wrath?”

  “Yes, Tarzan.” I wrapped my legs and arms around him, nuzzling his ear. “You keep me well sexed and fed, then the world is safe from me.” My teeth nipped at his neck, hinting at what I wanted before food.

  “I must do my part.” He gripped my face roughly, tilting it up to look at him, lust gleaming in his eyes, his mouth brushing mine.

  “I’ll get you a cape. And lots of spandex.”

  “Stevie?” My name wrenched me from my daydream. He stared at me with an eyebrow cocked, holding out a plate for me. “Here.”

  “Thanks.” I grabbed it, my cheeks burning, staring at the very counter where my naked ass had once been. My skin tingled and my thighs twitched as I recalled all we had done together. Sex with Tarzan was always, and I mean always, amazing…but that memory really stuck out. The words he whispered in my ear.

  “Jesus, I can’t get enough of you. Get close enough.” His teeth scraped up my neck, our bodies moving fiercely together. “I want to stay here. Forever.”

  We never said anything we didn’t mean to someone we slept with. I never falsely claimed anything before or during sex. Both of us were pretty brutal in our truth.

  When he said that, all I felt was… Yes. I feel the same. Which had scared me, but strangely not enough to run. Not then anyway.

  “You still pretending to be vegetarian?” Chris smirked, placing two slices of bacon on my plate.

  “You know bacon doesn’t count.” I frowned, hopping up on a stool.

  “Suuurrrre.” He sat down next to me, already shoveling eggs into his mouth.

  This felt so natural. Domesticated even.

  We ate in silence, Chris’s leg brushing mine as he reached for more bacon, dropping another slice on my plate without a word. Just knowing…

  Crap.

  “I b
etter go.” I slid off the stool, taking my plate to the sink. “My mom must be flipping out.”

  “She knows you’re here.”

  “What?” I spun around.

  “Your phone was buzzing like crazy. Saw a few from Jayme and your mom. I know how she gets. Figured you’d want her to know you weren’t dead in a ditch.”

  “Yeah.” I swallowed. The intimacy of his actions, the extreme familiarity, unsettled me. “Thanks.” I pushed off the counter, searching for my phone, keys, and shoes.

  “Looking for these?” He pulled a set of keys from his pocket, dangling them.

  “Yes.” I went to grab them, but he yanked them out of my grasp.

  “Not so fast.” He stood, shaking his head, stuffing them back in his pocket. My lids narrowed. The ass knew I would probably leave without my cell or shoes but not the keys. Couldn’t get anywhere without transportation.

  “Are you holding me hostage?”

  “Nothing is stopping you from leaving. You could walk.” He winked.

  Fucker. He knew my laziness would turn me into a prisoner quicker than anything else.

  I’d probably be the worst and best hostage. Kidnap me, strand me miles away from civilization, but free to leave at any time if I walked? I would be the first volunteer captive ever.

  “Stevie.” He advanced closer to me. “What the hell happened last night?”

  And there it was. The reason I should have bolted when he gave me the chance. Damn ensnaring bacon.

  “Nothing.” I shut down, my voice clipped. Embarrassment over my actions the night before, how severely I responded to something that really wasn’t a big deal. It happened all the time, especially in New York, guys thinking you owe them something if they hit on you. I normally could handle it with a snarky remark, but last night the group of them had unhinged me.

  “Nothing?” He scoffed, blinking his lids in bafflement. “The girl who never lets her defenses down. Who would probably peel back her own nails before letting anyone see her cry says that was nothing?”

  Annoyance stacked up the back of my neck. “Congrats, you saw me cry. You should get a T-shirt made. Declare that shit or people will think it’s a unicorn.”

  His jaw locked down, his chest rising.

  “I shouldn’t have come here.” I shook my head, moving to him. “Just give me my keys back, and I’ll get out of your hair. Like you’ve been probably wanting since the moment I arrived.”

  “Fuck you,” he rasped quietly, moving until his body loomed over mine. “You have no idea what I want.”

  Anger and Chris were like a cocktail I thought I could handle without repercussion. Granted, it usually led to amazing hate-sex, but always left scars anchoring me to him. You didn’t fight with people you didn’t care about…

  Needing to get away, I strode for the door. Fuck…I was going to be forced to walk.

  Chris seized my shoulders, turned me around, and pressed me back into the wall, stealing a breath of air from my lungs. Blood zinged through my veins, lighting me up.

  “For once, you aren’t gonna get your way.” He pressed his hands on either side of my head, caging me in, his voice low.

  “Get my way?” I laughed.

  “Yes. You dictated everything.” His body pressed into mine, his thin shorts allowing me to feel every inch of him, flushing heat through my torso and down my legs. “When we fucked. Talked. Hung out. And when it was over.”

  “Oh, I think you let me know quite clearly when it was over,” I said evenly, holding my head high. “I merely had the guts to say it first,” My gaze burned into his. “I took you putting your dick in Megan as a subtle hint we were done.”

  “You know why you never let me explain?” He leaned in, frustration spilling off him, but he kept his tone calm. “Because you wanted it to end. You were searching for an escape hatch. And it was easier to come up with a story that fit your narrative than actually hear the truth.”

  “So, I didn’t find Megan on top of you, her tongue down your throat?”

  Our voices didn’t rise, speaking in matter-of-fact tones, like we had no more energy to fight again.

  “Just as if I didn’t find yours down some random girl’s the night before.”

  I faltered. He really was there. Why? It was not his style of party at all.

  “Tell me what happened last night,” he growled, his brown eyes flaming with his demand. The feel of him on my hip forced my lungs to flutter more.

  “No.” It was an automatic reply. Defensive. I didn’t let people in. But a part of me wanted to tell him, to let someone in. I looked down, biting my lip. For a moment the confession moved up my throat, needing to get out, but terror froze it like ice blocks, falling back into my stomach, slamming my mouth shut.

  “You show up at my door, sobbing as though your whole world just ended, and I can’t know why?” He moved his hands down the wall, closer to my shoulders, tipping him in closer to me. His knee nudged my legs apart.

  A tornado of lust, hate, anger, and fear spiraled inside. And all those emotions made me want sex. Worse, they made me want it with him.

  Only him.

  “Then you tell me what’s going on with you?” I peered back up at him, curving my body into his. I could feel my barriers teetering. Please, I need you to make the first step. I could hear my soul pleading with him. If you tell me, I’ll tell you. I just couldn’t be first.

  His lids slammed shut, his nostrils flaring as my figure brushed his.

  “Only fair.”

  “Like we ever played fair.” His lips were so close, it took everything I had to not close the distance. The yearning for his mouth made me whimper inside.

  “And that’s not how this is going to go.” His gaze locked on mine, pushing me back into the wall. “You came here.”

  “Huge. Mistake.”

  “Why did you?” He ignored me.

  I had no answer for that. Not one I was willing to admit. To him or to myself.

  He dipped his head in disappointment, his breath skating up my neck, his lips like a phantom trailing up my skin, running chills over my skin. “Stevie.” He whispered my name so low, I almost thought I imagined it. Then, he stepped back, leaving my body clamoring for his, my feet tottered forward, wanting it back. Quickly, I stopped myself, folding my arms.

  “I guess we both leave unsatisfied.” Trying to disguise my sorrow, I held out my hand, wanting my keys.

  Chris tugged out the keys, placing them in my palm.

  “Like I’m not used to that by now,” he muttered, staring at the ground.

  My forehead bunched up with confusion.

  “Bye, Stevie.” He straightened himself, motioning to the door, his demeanor leaving no room for negotiation. “As usual it’s been…an experience. Maybe I’ll volunteer for a root canal next time.”

  “Yeah,” I clipped, walking around him. My flip-flops were right by the door, and I shuffled my feet into them, reaching for the door.

  “Wait.” The one word stopped my feet in their tracks. I wish I could lie and say I didn’t feel a bubble of hope bloom in my chest as I swung around. “I don’t want a reason for you to have to come back.” Chris’s mouth pinched as he tossed me my cell.

  Pop.

  Shame and anger at myself sprouted like weeds around the debris of hope.

  “Believe me, it will never happen again.” I yanked open the door and flew down the steps to my car. Once again I left his place wondering why I didn’t jump out the window.

  Chapter Eleven

  “I’m really sorry.” That phrase was set on repeat today. First to my mom and now to Jaymerson. And I wasn’t used to apologizing. Not like this. This I really meant. Whiskey meant something to me. “Please, forgive me?”

  My fingers twined into her comforter as she moved around her old room, stuffing clothes in her bag. She was watching Reece for the night while her parents went to some charity football event. Hunter and Jayme were still staying at Krista’s, watching Cody, as Krista r
efused to leave the hospital. The baby was getting stronger, but the doctors weren’t ready to release her.

  “Whiskey?” I sat up on her bed, practically begging.

  “I’ve accepted your apology.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, shoving a pile of tops in the duffel bag.

  “You’re still upset with me.”

  “I’m not mad because of last night.” She sighed, tossing the bag by the open door.

  I could see Reece in her room lying on her stomach coloring with the new sparkly gel pens I brought over. Nope, not above bribing or going through Reece to make things better with Jayme. Not at all.

  “I’m hurt because you say I’m your best friend, but you won’t really confide in me. I tell you everything. If this is a real friendship, it should be a two-way street.”

  It was strange. When we first met, I felt like the older sister, the one to take her under my wing. Now it felt like the roles were shifting, and I didn’t like it.

  “There’s nothing to tell.” For so long that was true, I could compartmentalize, lock it all away. But lately the lines had been blurring, nightmares bleeding into life, reminding me of my weaknesses.

  “And I call bullshit.” She folded her arms, leaning against the bed. Most of her personal items were gone. Amy switched out a few things, making it more a “guest room,” but really it was still Jayme’s. “You won’t even talk about your dad’s death.”

  “He died.” I shrugged. “It sucked. What else can I add to that?”

  “Stevie…” She cranked her head to the side, her long brown hair tumbling down her arms, lids narrowed on me. “I love you, girl. But damn, you have issues.”

  “Wow, you are the first to ever tell me that.”

  “Really?”

  “No.”

  I heard it all the time. Mostly from some girls who thought they meant more to me and suddenly found out they didn’t. Guys were easy. They never looked close enough to notice.

  Except one.

  About to respond to me, Jaymerson’s cell buzzed on the bed. She peered down, picking it up.

  “Hey.” She smiled, her cheeks pinking. I knew who it was instantly. Her voice always held a different tone when it was Hunter, a secret smile she only had for him. Love she couldn’t hide. To feel that safe, so trusting with someone, made an ache stagger down my chest like a drunk. “What?” She looked around the room, going to her boho bag on the dresser, searching inside. “Shit. I do. I’m sorry.” She pulled out a black leather wallet, her lips pulling down in a frown. “I guess I can drive down and bring it to you.” She rubbed her hand through her hair. “Are you sure?” Her head bobbed. “Okay…I love you too.”