I disappear into the land of alpha males and the weak heroines who love them. It’s the kind of book I love to hate. I tell myself I’ll never be one of those girls, but since Derek, I’ve felt like maybe I was one with him at times.
It’s a struggle—constant and fierce—but in the end, I know I’ll be okay. What doesn’t kill us is supposed to make us stronger, right?
I hear the door unlock, and quickly beeline for my bedroom. I didn’t expect Blake to come home tonight, and I’m not in the mood for a meet and greet with his nightly pick-up.
“Lila!” I hear him yell as soon as my door shuts. “Damnit, Lila, come out here now.”
My hand stays on the doorknob. I’m scared that if I move, he’ll hear my bare feet against the old hardwood floors. He’ll know I’m still awake.
“Lila. Come. Out. Here. Now!” Blake wears a permanent asshole patch on his shirt, and I’m tired of it.
When I still ignore him, his fist hits hard against my door. “I know you’re awake.”
I know without a doubt if I don’t open the door, he’s going to keep yelling and eventually he’ll wake up all the neighbors. Hesitantly, I turn the knob and get an eyeful of his pissed off expression. Every muscle in his body goes rigid.
“What?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.
He takes a step toward me, his chest brushing against mine. “What the hell were you thinking leaving without telling me? I spent a whole fucking hour searching the club for you, thinking some asshole had gotten a hold of you!”
“I told the guys.”
“Well, you didn’t tell me!”
I swallow hard, taking the smallest of steps backward, hoping he won’t notice. “Honestly, I didn’t think you cared. I agreed to go with you, but I never said I’d leave with you.”
His eyes burn into mine as he makes up the space I’d gained. “When you come with me, you stay with me, and if you think you need to leave, we’ll fucking leave, but you should not be walking around this city by yourself at night. Especially wearing that piece of fabric you call a dress.”
“You know, Blake, I’m a big girl, and I can take care of myself,” I say, poking my finger into his chest. “Besides, you’re the one who left me alone at the bar so I didn’t think you’d care.”
“Do you want to know how much I fucking care, Lila?” he asks.
My eyes widen, and my heart races as he steps closer, pushing my hand right back into me. He’s not just being an asshole . . . he’s genuinely, seriously pissed.
His arm wraps around my lower back. I push against his chest, but his grip on me is too tight. “There’s not a whole lot in this world I care about, but every time I look in those green eyes of yours, I don’t have any control.” His lips are mere inches from mine. His hand practically burns into my cotton-covered skin. “I hate not having control.”
Confusion is all I feel as I stare at his dark shadow with no idea of what to say. He tore in like the first wave of a windstorm sweeping away all my thoughts.
“Say something.” His voice is lower but not without edge.
“I made it home safely, didn’t I?” Daring in my current predicament if I do say so myself.
“This time.”
“And the hundreds of other times I’ve walked home at night.”
His grip on me tightens. “Why are you so stubborn?”
I shrug. “Why do you have to be such an asshole?”
Without warning, his lips crash into mine. At first I fight it, pushing hard against his chest, but he tastes like whiskey. Woodsy and smoky like a campfire, matching the intensity of his kiss. He melts away my anger with his mouth, leaving days’ worth of unrealized sexual tension in its wake.
He tastes.
I lean into him.
He sucks.
My knees go weak.
He isn’t something I wanted. Not three weeks ago. Not even three minutes ago. But as his hands slide up my back, coming up to circle my neck, I’m drowning in want. He tilts my head back to allow himself better access. My tongue tangles with his. Never in a million years did I envision this . . . how much pleasure I would feel from a simple touch. I guess sometimes we have to have our desires at our fingertips to realize their true depth.
When his lips leave mine, his hands stay. We went from one extreme to another so quickly . . . I’m not sure what will happen when he pushes the brakes. His face is close, like he wants to kiss me again, but his hands fall away from me instead.
“Don’t—”
One step back.
“Ever—”
Another step.
“Let me—”
Another step. His back hits my bedroom wall.
“Do that again.”
As he exits the room, I’m left wondering what the heck just happened. That kiss took all the cells in my brain and tangled them. I never imagined this, and I hate to admit it but I liked it.
But the way he left me leaves a nagging burn deep in my chest.
It’s just another reason I need to find my own place. Getting any deeper into this with Blake is going to get messy . . . that’s a guarantee.
“WHAT’S EATING YOU TONIGHT?” Dana asks.
I’ve been standing in front of the bar staring at a tray of dirty glasses for God knows how long. I hadn’t even realized I was doing it until just now.
“I’m just tired,” I answer, shaking myself out of Lila-land. The truth is, Blake was gone when I woke up this morning, and he hadn’t come home before I left for work. I don’t want to think about him, but there must be part of me that cares or I wouldn’t feel this way. It’s like someone burned a tiny hole in my chest and the pain keeps spreading the longer I go without hearing from him. I hate feeling like this.
“Liar.”
Tapping my fingernails on the old wooden bar, I contemplate how much I should tell her or if I should tell her anything at all. It bothers me that he disappears all the time without any explanation, not that he really owes me one. He’s said that he doesn’t work so what does he do for days at a time? Where does he go?
I try to chase any twisted yet viable explanations from my mind, but that’s easier said than done. Does he have women across town who he spends the night with? Is that who Aly is? I’ve been thinking about her since he said her name the other morning, hoping she’s nothing more than a character in his dreams.
“It’s Blake.”
That sparks her interest right away. “What did he do now?”
More nail tapping. “He kissed me.”
Her eyes double in size. “I knew it. You lasted longer than I would have, though.”
“It’s not like that.”
Sure, he kissed me. It was nice, but then he just left after—the epitome of romantic.
“Well! Spill it,” she demands, glancing around to make sure no one is within earshot. She knows me well enough to know I’m not the kiss-and-tell kind of girl.
“It was the best and worst kiss I’ve ever had. How is that even freaking possible?” I’m more expressive about it than I thought I would be, throwing my arms up in the air.
“You’re going to have to elaborate.”
“He came in all mad because I left the bar without telling him. He yelled at me, then he kissed me, then he told me to never let it happen again.”
She steps back, shaking her head. “I’d say he likes you, but he doesn’t want to. And, I’m sensing a bad case of commitment-itis.”
“So what do I do? I have to live with him.”
“First off, don’t you dare fall for him. He doesn’t deserve you.” She pauses, a huge smile spreading across her face. “I’d fuck him, though. Just once because I bet you all my tips that he knows exactly what he’s doing.”
She’s crazy. Nuts actually. I turn back to the bar, signaling to Charlie that I need another round.
“Lila, listen to me for once.”
I keep my back to her.
“How many guys have you been with?” she asks when I don’t react.
I turn to glare at her.
She continues, “From your nice non-answer, I’m going to guess that you’re a virgin, or you’ve had, at maximum, one or two partners. Nothing to be embarrassed about, but Lila, Blake could rock your world. At the very least, he’ll show you how good things can be under the sheets.”