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“I do,” I snap, feeling suddenly cornered. “Believe me, I do. But he started saying these things, and then he touched me...I wasn’t thinking.”
“Damn, girl.” I can practically hear her smiling. “That’s pretty hot, you know.”
“It was pretty something. Not to mention a big freaking mistake.”
“Amazing?” she asks. “Tell me it was at least amazing. Got to be worth the inner turmoil I can hear in your voice now.”
“It was incredible,” I say, far too quickly.
“Damn.” Emily sounds like she’s living vicariously through me. That’s not weird at all.
“Yeah.” I clear my throat, downing another mouthful of beer. “So, did you call just for the juicy details, or was there something you actually had to say?”
“Oh, I haven’t even begun to ask for details, Izzy.” Again, she’s grinning; I know it. “But you can tell me in a couple hours.”
“What’s in a couple hours?”
“I’m picking you up in my car—you know, the one that’s no longer howling like a goddamn banshee—and we’re going to Tonk’s. Live band, cheap beer.”
“No way.” I shake my head even though she can’t see me. “I’ve got a beer in my hand now, and I just want to stay here where it’s quiet. Besides, this house is pure organized chaos.” I glance around the room again, sighing. At least, I'm telling myself it's organized. Maybe it's just fucking chaos. “I'm staying home tonight, Em.”
“So you can replay sexy time with Jace in your head over and over all night? I’m not letting you torture yourself like that. Get your ass into some tight jeans and wear that low-cut purple halter top you bought last time we went into the city. We’re going to dance and drink away the mere thought of Jace fucking Andrews, Izzy.”
“Sounds like you’re telling me, not asking.”
“See, you’re such a smart girl. I’ll pick you up at eight.”
“Em, I don’t—”
Too late. She’s already ended the call. I stare at the bottle in my hand. Well, it looks like this isn’t the only one of these I’ll be having tonight.
Chapter Four
Jace
In a town as small as Brooksville, there’s only two things that are certain. The first is that almost everyone knows everyone else’s business. The second thing is that, whatever they don’t know, they make up.
Even though Izzy’s been unwilling to talk to me for the three years I’ve been away, I’ve managed to keep tabs on her, hearing tidbits of information and gossip from my parents and the people from town who’d travelled to different rodeo events to watch me compete. I always asked about her, to make sure she was doing okay, but also in hopes that she’d find out I was still interested. I wanted her to know I still cared about her, even if she didn’t care about me.
That also opened me up to hearing the stories and gossip that involved her, true or not. That's how I found out about her relationship with Chad Easton. I had been too cowardly to ask how serious the relationship was, but if the arched eyebrows and inability to meet my eyes were any indication, according to the people I talked to, it must have been pretty serious, especially for everyone to know about it. Not that word wouldn't have gotten around if it was merely a fling, but for it to have been brought up as many times as it was to me, Isabelle and Chad must have been a thing for a while. The last I heard of it was well over a year ago though, and I'd been sure to find out from Blake and Rodney when I got back into town that Izzy wasn't with anyone anymore.
Which meant she was fair game, and that I still had a chance.
And, damn it, I'd taken that chance earlier today. I won't lie, it wasn't my intention when I walked into that diner to send my friends away and get her alone in that bathroom. To say that it was a less-than-ideal spot to have her the way I did is an understatement. But, when I walked in and her eyes locked with mine, I knew I wasn't going to be able to wait. I'd craved Isabelle Thompson for far too long, and seeing her—Christ, she hadn't changed a bit. She was just as gorgeous as I remembered, if not even prettier than my mind had pictured her. She was still beautiful, still fiery, and still passionate as hell in everything she did.
And if the passion and fury between us in that shabby-looking bathroom was any indication, she’d been craving me just as desperately as I've been craving her.
Or had been, at least.
Now, I'm not sure what to think. Isabelle wanted me in that moment just as badly as I wanted her. And though I don't think she'll even admit it to herself at this point, let alone to me or anyone else, I think that wanting that’s been smoldering within her for so long and finally ignited when we came together, that unbridled need that undid her at the slightest sensation of my touch...I think it scared the hell out of her.
She hadn't been expecting it, having chosen to bury it deep within her and ignore it. And for the first time since she'd chosen to ignore it, to ignore how much she needed me, she'd been forced to face that desire, and she succumbed to it, too quickly and too completely.
Now, she needs time. I know that, and I understand that, but it doesn't make it any easier when the only thing I want to do right now is drive over to that little house that Addie Phillips rented to her last year—Blake told me about it—and remind her once more just how fucking perfect we are together. There's so much we need to talk about, so damn much I need to tell her.
But I can't overwhelm her anymore than I already have. Izzy is one of the strongest women I've ever known, and anyone else in this Podunk town will back me up on it. But she's also stubborn as hell, something that I've always loved about her, and she won't be forced into anything. That truth alone gives me hope that the fact that she gave herself to me so willingly earlier today means that there's a fighting chance of me winning her back.
But Isabelle Thompson isn't someone who will be won unless she damn well wants to be.
