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“Stop stringing me along,” I demand, but my words are softer than the war of emotions inside of me.
“I would if I could,” he says with a slight shake of his head. “Fuck, Ali. I would if I could.”
I see the kiss coming because it’s nothing like the first and second one. Hell, it’s nothing like the ones we’ve shared since those two times. It’s slow and salty, and it makes me wonder if there might actually be something here between us.
I fall into it like I told myself I never would again, because despite my anger over this entire situation, I know how I feel about this man. Denying it doesn’t make those feelings go away.
He pins me to the wall, one hand still cupping my cheek and the other on my ass, and I realize exactly what this is when he rolls his hips against me.
“Don’t,” I manage with a shove to his chest. “Just don’t.”
I look up at him wide-eyed as he pants in harsh gasps as if he’s having a hard time controlling himself.
“You’re breaking my heart,” I mutter, the confession making his eyes slam shut.
I use the opportunity to walk away from him, and by the time I make it to the front door of the bar, Boomer is right on my heels.
Chapter 32
Harley
I groan, refusing to open my eyes because the harsh sunlight I can tell is already spilling into the room won’t help the ache already pounding in my head.
Getting drunk last night after Ali walked away from me might have seemed like the best idea in the world, but I’m no longer grateful for the alcohol I consumed.
“Fuck my life,” I mutter with my arm over my eyes.
“You seem to be doing a fine job of that yourself.”
I drop my arm from my eyes to see Legend sitting in the chair across from the sofa I passed out on last night. I wish I could forget all of it, but I can’t.
I remember looking at other women in the bar with my gut telling me to just get up and leave before the first pitcher of beer was poured. I also remember the barbaric way I acted in front of those college kids. I did that sober, thank you very much.
Legend is right. Thirty-one is a little too late in life to be getting so drunk you throw up in the parking lot, but since Landon had some sort of argument with his friend Rick, the guy had to ride home with us. I kept thinking the entire drive back that throwing up on him wouldn’t be the worst thing I’ve ever done. I didn’t, but only because Legend wouldn’t let me in the SUV until my stomach was empty.
“What are you doing?” I grumble.
“Funny.” He huffs a laugh that doesn’t sound like he finds anything funny at all. “I came out here to ask you the same thing.”
“I’m trying not to throw up,” I mutter. “I drank too much last night.”
“You did a lot of too much last night. When are you going to get your head out of your ass?”
“There’s nothing in my ass.”
“Don’t tell Rick that,” Landon says as he walks through the room toward the kitchen.
“What the fuck was that?”
Legend shrugs, and I have to sit up on the sofa. Looking at him from this angle is only making me feel worse.
“I’m more concerned about you right now.”
“I don’t need your concern. Were you just as concerned about Aro?”
“What about Aro?”
“He admitted yesterday that he went home with a woman he can’t remember.”
“Aro doesn’t remember because he doesn’t care. His dick is the only thing the man remembers.”
I shake my head, unsure if he’s telling the truth or not because I’ve been in a pain bubble for the last six months, and I don’t really know that much about the man.
“I want to talk about Alyssa.”
“I can’t talk about her.”
“With me? Or in general?”
I glare at him. “Talking about her betrays—”
“Lana?” He shakes his head. “It doesn’t. You know it doesn’t.”
I clench my jaw, wondering just how upset Kincaid would be if I stood and punched this man in the face.
“Would she want you to be miserable?”
“Ali doesn’t want me at all, but I imagine she doesn’t care that I’m miserable.”
He chuckles, the sound out of place with our current conversation.
“Would Lana want you miserable?”
I understand my confusion and the laugh now.
Busted.
I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”
“Would she want you to be alone and sad?”
I shake my head again because I’ve thought about it many times since speaking so openly with Kincaid. My wife wasn’t a vengeful person. If given the opportunity to have someone in my life and in Aria’s life, she’d expect me to take it.
“So, I’ll ask again. When do you plan to get your head out of your ass?”
