“Thirty-seven ain’t old, killer.”
Lina rolled her eyes. Fucking brat. “Oh,okay. Well, you can go if it’s past your bedtime. Christian and Kale are here, and I can head back to camp when they’re ready.”
I wasn’t about to leave her, especially when she was wasted. I crossed my arms over my chest and gave her the stern look that worked on Penn when she didn’t want to pick up her toys. “I’m not going anywhere.”
She didn’t seem at all fazed by my tone. Instead, she seemed emboldened by it, ready to play with fire.
Her glossy lips circled around the straw in her drink, her eyes peeking at me from beneath her dark fringe of lashes.Fuck.That look while she sucked on her straw went straight to my cock.
“Fine. You’re a stubborn asshole. Guess I’m not going to get any dick while I’m on circuit, am I?” She whined in a slightly lowered tone. “God, I’m so fucking horny right now.”
I gulped. “Fuck, sweetheart. You can’t say shit like that.” My cock throbbed painfully as her eyes coyly flitted up to mine.
“No? Why not?” She took a step forward, her toes bumping mine, her eyes challenging me.
I ducked my head down to talk in her ear, my cowboy hat shifting to allow her head to invade my space. God, she smelled amazing. Like vanilla and flowers. “You’re right. You’re not going to get some while I’m on circuit with you.”
She turned her head, her lips brushing the shell of my ear. “Because you’re a … Cock. Block?” She enunciated the last two words with a click of her tongue.
I nearly shuddered with how her breath caressed my skin, but I couldn’t help chuckling at her question. “Guess I am. We both know there’s only one cock you should be riding.”
Lina pulled back slightly to look me in the eyes. “If you think you’re talking about your own?—”
“No more douchebags, remember?” I cut her off. “You deserve better than that.”
“And you think that’s you?”
My chest clenched. I didn’t know if I was better for her, but I’d do everything in my fucking power to prove to her how sorry I was. “I can treat you better than any of these fucking pricks.” I gestured to the bar where men had approached her and bought her drinks all night.
Fire burned in her eyes, and she looked even more like a succubus from hell with the neon reflecting off her. “You haven’t so far, asshole.”
“Lina, I’ve apologized. When are you going to forgive me?”
“When you stop killing my vibe and give me fucking space to breathe.”
I wasn’t about to argue with her when she was drunk. Her words were starting to slur.
“Ugh!” She threw up her hands in irritation when I didn’t attempt to move. “Can you at least get yourself a drink, loosen up, and go sit somewhere else?”
“I don’t drink, Lina. I’ve been sober for 386 days.”
Narrowed with annoyance, her eyes appeared to soften as I watched her do the mental math … 386 days of sobriety … 386 days since I fucked up … 386 days since I met Lina Larsen. And 386 days of trying to convince myself that I wasn’t such a horrible person, but rather, someone worthy of redemption.
I don’t know what I was expecting from her, but silence wasn’t it. I sucked air through my nose, disappointed. “Fine. Fuck it. I’ll give you your space.”
Her face fell, making my own heart go with it, while I walked away to post myself up at an empty high-top table by the door. She stood there for a moment, staring into her drink as if she didn’t actually want me to give her more space. She had to realize I hadn’t had a drink since Joseph—over a year ago now—when I fucked things up with her.
I had to clench my fists on my thighs to keep from going back over there and tugging her into my arms until she melted for me. Because that’s what I fucking wanted more than anything.
I wanted to see her go soft for me, to run my fingers through her hair until I could pull her head back and line her mouth up with mine, kissing her until she went weak in the knees and gave in to me. I didn’t know how much more of this I could take without touching her the way I really wanted to.
12
reed
Lina barely spoke to me as we packed up and moved out, heading to the St. John Rodeo in Washington. I wanted to explain to her the boundaries I’d set for myself after our night together. It had to count for something. It didn’t excuse my behavior that night, but it had to lend weight to my apology now. But the fact that she hadn’t responded to it only made me further disappointed. What was going on in her head?
By the day of her event, she wasn’t even making eye contact with me. She had officially iced me out. It had only been a few days, and it was obvious she already needed a break. And maybe I needed one, too. It didn’t help that I had to wake up every morning to her fumbling in the dark in nothing but a thong and thin sleepshirt while she made herself breakfast. Then being forced to give up my shitty bench bed so she could have her table back. Thank God she used up all the hot water by the time I got to the shower. Otherwise, my dick would be completely chafed by now. My nerves were officially fraying at the edges.
