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Chapter FOUR
Carina
“Phew.” Mellie fans herself with her fingers, only half joking. “That was the hottest jock in my entire college career. Jared Helmsley was the stud every single girl on campus wanted to own just once.”
“You were totally flirting with him,” I say.
“Carina Wallis, I totally was not,” she laughs.
“You were too. Fluttering lashes, touching your hair, you're still blushing now.”
“Well I'm a married woman, not a zombie,” she admits. “There's no harm in looking. Just don't tell your Dad. He and Jared had some issues.”
“What kind of issues?”
I'm desperate to keep this trip back to the past alive. To find out everything about Jared.
“You know competitive stuff.”
“Did you -?”
I force myself not to scrunch my features against her reply. Because crushing all over a guy my stepmother's been with is not sexy.
“What?” Mellie asks, confused. “Oh, did I – that? No. Of course not. I was dating your dad.”
Thank the lord.
“Their fight wasn't over me.” Mellie's eyes glaze for a moment.
I'm pretty sure she's imagining the deliciousness of that scenario had it been reality. I let her enjoy her fantasy and pretend to examine yet another sweater. She looks a little sad at her recall of past events, until she snaps back and continues.
“It was all jock stuff between them.”
“They were both athletes? I never knew Dad was that big on the field.”
“Your dad played but injury took him out. Jared was the star QB on the football team, went up to play NFL for the 49ers, just like he said. I remember he too was injured his first year pro. I don't think he ever came back.”
“So what does he do now?”
“Ooh, I don't know,” she says, thinking hard.
I have to wonder why memories get all jumbled up when I can remember all mine clearly.
“Far as I know no one heard from him again. He sort of dropped out of sight.”
“Mystery man,” I murmur and the prickles under my skin kick up a notch.
Those images of him bursting into a changing room when I'm undressed flood back. His firm fingers coming up to rest on my bottom lip, urging me to remain quiet. The rooms surrounding us full of shoppers trying on outfits.
His other hand snaking around my waist to pull me against his solid torso wall. Me palming his rock hard shield of abs and my fingertips hooking into the ridges carving out his chest. His mouth coming down to cover mine, claiming and devouring me.
A rush of heat flies up my chest so I have to turn away before my stepmother notices my fuddle.
“Do you think he'll come for dinner?” I inquire casually. “I mean, I'd love to hear stories about when you were all young.”
Actually it's the last thing I want. The reminder that Jared Helmsley, the only man I've ever felt such a ferocious attraction to, is out of my reach.
Sitting at the family dinner table with him across from me might make me combust. It seems crazy, but the most pressing need is to see him again.
