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“Same.” But I don’t think sleep will cure anything for me because all I can imagine is sleeping long enough to get some energy to wake up and ride his dick and his mouth again. I glance around the bedroom. “Whose room is this? Did we just fuck in Neil’s bed after you’ve been cockblocking him?”
“It’s my room. At least for the last few nights.”
Last few nights? Why is he staying at Neil’s house and not home with his brother? He reaches over, extends an arm across my stomach, lets out a sigh, and closes his eyes. A relaxed look overcomes his face as he utters, “I still hate you.” There’s no anger behind his words, just hurt. But I don’t want to fucking hear it.
“Good.” I slide off the bed and (more importantly) out of his arms and start to gather my clothes off the floor. When I find my thong, I pull it on first before trying to hook my bra.
I feel his eyes on me when I hear him ask, “Where are you going?”
“Back to the party.”
“Really?”
Goddamn it. I hear the hurt again. And I don’t give a shit. I want to hurt him. That’s what this is about. Hurting all of them because that’s what they do to me. I just wanted a good fuck in the process.
“Yes. We’re done here.” I wave over the room before I reach down and grab my dress off the floor and pull it over my head. When I look to him again, I see his confused look. “What, Cade? Did you think we would fucking cuddle and declare our undying love for each other?” I hold up a fist, my index finger pointed at the ceiling, as my arm moves in a circular motion—the ASL sign forforever, and give him a mocking expression to accompany it. “It was only sex. I did need a good fuck, and you were good enough, I guess.” I walk over to him, lean down as I place a palm on each thigh and press my lips to his. “But that’s all I want from you. Your dick inside me and the taste of my pussy on your tongue.” I stand and walk out of the room, not waiting for him to say a word because the anger is back on his face.
It’d be better to hurt him, make him think there’s a chance for us. But I can’t take that. I need him to hate me. I don’t want to feel anything else for him. Because the last time I did,foreverended up being nothing but a fucking joke to him. This time, joke’s on him, not me.
19
CADE
The banging on the bedroom door doesn’t stop, so I know it’s not Neil. He’d knock a few times, yell that it was him and say whatever he needed to, then leave. Whoever is on the other side of the door isn’t going away. And none of the guesses I have as to who is out there are people I actually want to face.
Nevertheless, I slide out of bed and make my way to the door and open it.
Dustin.
From his furious expression, it’s not going to be a fun brotherly catching-up moment, but I tell him anyways, “Come on in,” and drop onto the corner of the bed. He looks around the guest room that I’ve been crashing in since he invited our father to stay at his place.
“You haven’t been home in days. Are you ever gonna come back?”
“Is Dad still there?” My question doesn’t receive a response, and Dustin only glances away from me. “Answers my question. And the answer to yours is no, not while he’s there.”
“Cade, I get it. But I’m still your brother and your guardian. Yes, you’re eighteen, but don’t you think I deserve a little respect after everything I’ve sacrificed for you?”
“You deserve more than respect but take a moment to consider why you were put in the position to raise me. Why would you have to tend to your kid brother who had two able-bodied parents? And I appreciate it, but why don’t you take some of this irritation and direct it towards one half of the equation that set this whole situation up from the start.” I wave my hands around the room.
Dustin just shakes his head. “Fine. Stay away from home as long as you want. But you will keep the other obligations you have to me.”
“Like what? Playing precious football?” The game was awesome. Once I got out of my head at least. But then Morgan King happened, and now all I can see is her back on the way out the door after we fucked. Why had I given in? Why had I allowed her to embed her claws deeper within me?
“Yes. Football. Coach said you were supposed to meet with him this morning at Crescent Fleur to go over a game plan for Friday. The Cardinals aren’t a team to take lightly, and Coach wants to help you prepare.” Dustin takes a dramatic look at his watch. “It’s noon and you don’t look like you’re heading that way any time soon.” He walks over to my bag and tosses it to me. “Find something to wear or we can stop at the apartment to get something decent. But we’re leaving here in five minutes.”
Yeah. Because golf at his country club is gonna prepare me for the game. I should probably just be thankful he didn’t want me to meet at the house again. Hopefully after Morgan’s last miserable wait at the Crescent Fleur, she will opt out of going.Please, for the love of everything holy, don’t let her be there.
“I don’t want to go,” I utter and shove my bag on the bed beside me, but already know Dustin will win this one, so I’ll save us both the trouble.
I have the crazy notion that maybe if I blow the game next week, Coach will call in the backup. Yeah, he doesn’t have many options, or he wouldn’t have put me in this situation, but he’ll pull me if I fuck up bad enough. The old QB had no chance of being back this season, but I was hoping for a miracle or maybe that it was just some fluke and he’d be magically healed up. There’s no chance. But I can still hold on to my naïve delusion. Because if Fabian could play, Coach would drop me in a heartbeat. King wouldn’t be pushing so hard for me to play. And his malicious offspring wouldn’t be aiming to make my life miserable.
I grab a clean change of clothes and head to shower. It’s been more than a day since she was in the bed with me, but I can still fucking smell her intoxicating scent everywhere. Maybe that’s another one of her freakin’ voodoo spells. Wouldn’t put anything past the siren.
I’m about five minutes over Dustin’s timeline because it’s ten minutes later when I get in my truck and follow him to Crescent Fleur. Is it bad that I hope a sinkhole has swallowed the place whole? Or maybe it can just swallow me before I get there.
No such luck because when I pull into the parking lot, everything looks intact and precisely as shiny and lavish as it was when I last saw it. Coach’s Maybach is in the lot, but I don’t see Morgan’s car. Doesn’t mean the demon won’t pop up like one of those whack-a-mole games, but still, I breathe a little easier.
Dustin is beside me when I give him a questioning look. “Don’t you have better places to be? I know I wouldn’t be here if I had a choice.”
