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“You think it’s okay to bring someone down when they are already on the ground barely able to walk? The shit you said hurt, okay? I’ve been single for two minutes, and I see my ex-fiancé with another woman. This is the guy I was going to spend the rest of my life with. I love him. I didn’t just forget what love is even if I called it quits.”
“Why did you call it quits?” he demands, yelling.
“Because I wanted more, okay? I don’t know what the hell that is, and maybe I’m stupid for thinking that life isn’t about being comfortable. I want excitement, kinda like punching you in the face.” The laughter escapes me again, and my fists relax, moving toward my stomach to control the stitch forming from the uncontrollable giggles.
“And you still think that’s funny?”
I bet it hurt. The swollen lip looks terrible on him, and all I want to do is make it worse.
I have my devil suit on, pitchfork standing proud, and I play nasty.
I move my body forward and smash my lips onto his.
Oh shit.
Now it’s officially game over.
Five
Sometimes, in our wildest dreams, something extraordinary happens. A moment where you pinch yourself because you’re certain it’s just a dream, only to find out it is, in fact, reality.
When I was eight, my mom dragged me to a shopping mall where the cast of Dallas was appearing. Never had I seen my mom so excited to meet a bunch of old folks who were royalty in the soap opera world. My dad found it both hilarious and pathetic but gave her some extra spending money to buy a new dress, should she be lucky enough to get a photograph.
I never forgot the moment when one of the lead actors asked a question to the crowd, picked my mom to answer, then welcomed her up onto the stage. Every woman in that overcrowded shopping mall was green with envy. On the car ride home and for days following, it was all she could talk about. Her wildest dream came true, and maybe, one day, if I am fortunate enough, it could happen to me.
I wasn’t aspiring to meet the cast of Dallas, but I had high hopes that the cast of Friends would make it out to Virginia. It never happened, of course.
Making out with Haden Cooper—the biggest jerk to walk the planet—is not my wildest dream. Yet everything about what is happening between us in this dark and secluded alleyway is the wildest thing to happen to me. Dreams and reality become a hazy fog. What the hell am I doing? Purposefully, I move my hands toward my thigh, pinching myself in hopes that it’s all a dream, but low and behold, each pinch only causes me to scowl as his lips press hard against mine.
It was supposed to cause him pain. So why the hell is he kissing me back?
I try to pull away, but he has my body pinned against the dirty brick wall, and my head is telling me to kick the Jerk in the balls.
What the fuck is that thing my body is doing? Thinking about all the places where he could stick that tongue of his.
I bite his lip with slight force, coercing him to pull away, but his body is pressed hard against mine, and like ice, my body is melting under his touch. I know this is wrong, yet something is happening that excites me in a way I have never experienced. I loathe him. He is annoying, and his sole purpose on this earth is to push my buttons.
And he happens to be pushing the right ones.
His tongue is circling mine at a slow yet intense pace, teasing it enough to make me moan. I am unable to pull away now and surprise even myself with my hands moving to his hair, tugging it until he grunts in my mouth. These sounds are foreign, and the excitement is overwhelming.
I know I have too much pride to allow this to happen, and slowly coming to my senses, I make a proper attempt at moving my mouth away from his and using my upper body to twist out of his grip. Of course, it is fruitless, and with a forceful body slam, his groin presses against me so hard that I feel it throbbing, exciting me further.
Pulling away, his warm breath smothers the air between our faces. “This,” he says, with a low rumbling growl, “is payback for smashing my face.”
This beautiful yet damaged face is only inches away from mine and so close that I can count the tiny freckles along the bridge of his nose. His lashes are long and curl just above his hazel eyes. Even as we stand in the dark, and I am heavily intoxicated, the color of his eyes has this shimmery light speckle that I never noticed before. Well, why would you notice? You’re too busy telling him to shove it where the sun don’t shine. So, no point giving him a bigger head, excuse the pun, and telling him how pretty he is. Give it back—jerk style.
“You deserved it,” I tell him, catching my breath in between his ravenous kisses.
“Then you, Malone… deserve this.”
Against the wall in the dark and dirty alley, he pulls my dress above my thigh, scratching my skin as he clasps his grip firmly on my ass. I beg myself to stop this madness, but the desire has driven me into such a blissful paradise that my body is in full control, not my head. His kisses are heavy against my neck as I arch to the right, giving him free rein to my sensitive spot. My body is sinking further, my pumps barely able to hold myself up with my legs quivering in anticipation.
It’s the alcohol making me want him.
It’s a rebound.
You want to forget Jason was with another woman.
