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Throwing Brett’s bedroom door open, I want to vomit. Seeing him with another woman from my window was one thing, but up close…it’s far too real. What had I planned on doing? Pieces of thoughts form a maelstrom of hurt and chaos in my mind.
Brett and his fuck buddy realize I’m in the room. They break their kiss to look at me. The other part of them stays together. Gag. I need a plan, and fast. I’ve done, or not done, everything Brett asked. Look where that got me. I won’t be the victim.
Think. Think. Think.
“Madi?” Brett lifts up. My urge to vomit heightens.
The thinking train derails. I rush forward, shrugging my blanket of shame. I’m not the one at fault. There are a million things I want to say to him but words fail me as I rear my fist back.
When I thrust it forward, a primal scream erupts from me, sparing me from having to hear his nose break. Wow! That felt good. Like I’m doing all women a favor by standing up for myself.
Brett falls onto the girl, making a horrible sound as he grips his face and rolls off. Thankfully the sheet spares me the details that are no longer my business.
He doesn’t deserve a chance to explain.
Before anyone can say anything coherent, I spin around and rush out of the room as quickly as I entered, not bothering to close the door.
Turning the corner, tears blur my vision. I plow into Jayce. His hard body becomes a wall supporting me. His hands circle my waist and for way longer than a split second, I hope Brett comes out of his room and catches his father holding me.
Maybe there is something wrong with me. I’m not usually the type of person to want revenge.
I shift my eyes to the stairwell past Jayce. “Umm, sorry, I need to go.”
His grip tightens.
“I’ve got you.” His tone has never been so low and possessive. “Let’s go downstairs.”
“I’m fine.” I try to move but not enough to convince him that’s what I want. I give in to his grip, his protection. My sex tingles. My entire body tingles. And when he pulls me into his chest, his arms firm around my back, and if I can believe myself, his lips in my hair, and something very hard against my belly. For the first time ever, I question that being wired wrong might not be such a bad thing.
“You deserve to be treated better than that.” His words. His tone. His belief in me. They’re turning me to mush. They’re giving me hope for something I know better than to believe in.
“Areal manwould treat me better.” It’s supposed to be a jab at his son, hischild, but as I angle my head up and get lost in Jayce’s possessive gaze, I can’t be sure of my intent. My momentary bravado lures me into the forbidden.
The sincerity in his gaze penetrates me. It’s how a man should look at a woman he loves. Not that I’ve experienced it until this moment. But it’s clear. It has me questioning everything.
It’s too much. I’m hurt. I’m mad. I’m making things up.
Before I embarrass myself, I pull away from his comfort and warmth. I drift my hands down both handrails, and stride to the front door. The cold metal of the handle is my ticket to freedom, but movement in Jayce’s office catches my attention.
Shit. Is someone else here? I have the door in motion as I turn my face to see.
The handsome stranger is chiseled in all of the right ways. Enough to make me misstep. To crack the door into the side of my head.
“Oomph.” I stumble back, unsure if I’ve lost balance from the collision or if the ravenous look in his eyes, which I certainly made up, made my legs go weak.
He circles the desk. The look intensifies. I can’t let him touch me. I still can’t breathe from Jayce’s contact. Why am I thinking he would do that? I must have hit my head harder than I thought.
Steadying myself, I run out of the Hampton household as fast as possible.
That should be it. Brett and I are done. I’m not going to pretend that Mister Hampton or his friend lust after me. I’m going to give myself a minute for an impromptu pity party then do my best to get some sleep before the school district’s training day for new hires.
But this night can’t go wrong enough.
When I get home, my curtains are still open. My house still faces the Hampton’s house, because despite it feeling like the entire world shifted on its axis and everything tilted out of whack, nothing has changed.
I’m still wildly turned on by Brett’s dad. And his friend. It’s not just in the lingering sensation of his fingers wrapped around my waist like he didn’t want to let go, or the incredible hardness of his body as he held me tightly. Or the way both of them looked at me like I was theirs.
I’m standing at my floor-to-ceiling window, my hands gripped on the curtains on either side ready to pull them closed, and once again, I can’t move.
