Consolation Prize (Forbidden Men Book 9) (15 page)

I think it was our first form of communication since he’d returned from his honeymoon. I didn’t want to feel any resentment that he was the main reason I was stupidly achy-breaky hearting it these days. He didn’t have a clue what was going on. But I still wanted to get through a conversation with him as quickly as possible.

When he sent me the middle finger emoji for my smart-ass crack, I grinned, feeling a little more settled with things between us.

But I didn’t feel so settled where
she
was concerned.

What’s worse, I took her to-go mug of coffee with me to school. And then I carried it around all day like some kind of lovesick sack. And the next morning…yeah, I washed it out, refilled it and carried it to class again.

We shared philosophy at ten. I still had a gulp of coffee left in the mug when I strolled into the lecture hall a couple minutes early. I set it on the corner of my desk, then kicked back, propped my feet up, and closed my eyes, waiting.

I hadn’t realized I’d been waiting for
her
until I smelled her perfume when she approached. The chair next to mine shuffled as she sat next to me.

Suddenly, my entire body came to life, nostrils flaring to inhale her scent, ears twitching for every little movement she made, nerves crackling with some strange kind of adrenaline rush.

Before she could speak, I said, “You’re not getting your mug back,” without even opening my eyes.

“How did you—” Her surprised voice sizzled through me.

“You have a very distinct smell,” I answered after she cut herself off. “And what other reason would you sit by me?”

I opened my eyes and turned her way. She was flawless as usual, so I should’ve expected the punch of awareness I felt. I should’ve been braced for it. But nope, it had only gotten stronger since I’d seen her naked—well, mostly naked—and tasted her and touched her and seen where she slept.

I wanted her even more than ever.

God, I was so fucked.

“Well…” Her brown eyes were wide with surprise as she shook her head and finally stuttered, “It
is
my mug.”

I snickered and purposely picked it up to take a drink, taunting her. “Not anymore.”

Her eyes flared with challenge as she watched me, and dammit, dammit, dammit, why did that turn me on so much? But instead of telling me off, which was what I expected, and kind of craved—wasn’t I just a diabolical, masochistic son of a bitch—she drew in a deep calming breath, and steadily responded with, “You really need to stop stealing things from me, you know.”

“Things?” I arched my eyebrows, wondering why she’d phrased it as if I’d taken more than a cup from her.

“Yes!” she snapped. “Things, plural. My mug. My
underwear
.” Her voice went hushed and she moved in closer as her teeth clenched in ire, and damn…that so did it for me. I wanted to sink my fingers into her hair, yank her forward and kiss her hard and savagely.

“Oh yeah. Your panties.” I shrugged all nonchalant-like as I took another sip, even though I’d run out of coffee with the last one. “I threw those away, sorry.”

I regretted the words as soon as I said them, especially when her mouth opened as if I’d just stabbed her in the stomach.

Shit, I was such a bastard. I started to confess I still had them. I probably would’ve even offered to wash them and fold them and return them to her completely unharmed, along with her mug. But she narrowed her eyes and reached for her mug. “Give me my goddamn mug back!”

Being that it was still in my hand, I merely tightened my grip and refused to let go. No matter what thought had just crossed my mind a split second ago, I couldn’t give it up. Not while she was arguing with me. Besides, I
needed
this mug. It was hers. Which was probably why I really needed to loosen my hold and just let it go, but that stubborn gene in me refused. I was keeping as many pieces of her as I could possibly handle.

“No,” I muttered when she really started to yank on it and it slipped a couple inches between my fingers. Thinking quick, I leaned forward and licked the silver side. “There. I licked it. It’s mine.”

“Oh, well, if that’s all it takes to own something…”

Then she did the craziest thing in the entire world. She leaned in too, much like I had done, but her tongue didn’t go anywhere near the mug. It lapped its way up the back of my hand that was holding the cup.

My mouth fell open as she jerked upright and gaped right back at me, her eyes wide with shock as if she couldn’t believe she’d just done that either.

But holy shit, had she just claimed ownership of
me
?

What was even crazier, I think it had worked. Because in that moment, she did own me. She owned me completely.

“I…” She shook her head as if she were about to deny it, retract what she’d just done and take it all back. And I swear, if she had, I would’ve gotten up and left.

Except she wasn’t given a chance. The professor started class and we both straightened upright in our chairs and turned to face the front of the room, moving stiffly like robots. I honestly don’t think I was the only one who sat there like a frozen statue through the whole hour. I could practically smell the tension oozing off Julianna as she experienced the same dazed reality I did.

My heart pounded hard in my chest, and my muscles kept twitching with anxiety.

I wasn’t sure what this meant. I wasn’t sure what to do about it.

I just knew I liked her, despite everything. I was attracted as hell to her. But it seemed as if I shouldn’t be. I mean, what about Brandt? What about
everything
?

I was already dealing with enough shit. College, all the drama at home, my Vine business. I didn’t have the time or energy to be this mixed up over any girl. The back-and-forth with her was driving me crazy. I just…I needed a break. I needed to clear my head.

As soon as Dr. Taris called class, I shot from my chair, grabbing my books and mug, and I rushed from the room. Julianna gasped my name as if she wanted to talk to me, but I just couldn’t. I needed to process this.

J
ULIANNA’S
C
HAPTER
|
15

I
was still in a daze as I watched Colton race from the lecture hall.

I couldn’t believe what I’d done, but I didn’t regret it. The moment our shocked gazes had clashed after my tongue had claimed his skin, I’d been zapped with this surge of energy. He’d stared back almost as if he’d been afraid as if his entire future had just been laid out for him, whether he liked it or not, as if he realized he was mine now.

It was a powerful, almost overwhelming sensation. I sat, shell-shocked for the first half of the hour. Then I’d finally dared a sidelong glance his way only to find that he was still frozen with his own shock. For some reason, that made me feel better. I wasn’t the only one who knew something momentous had just happened. But apparently, I
did
seem to be the only one who needed to know what the momentous thing was.

I don’t think I’d ever seen a guy run away from me like that before. It probably should’ve worried me that he was resistant to the whole idea, but I don’t know. I just wasn’t. All it really filled me with was this determination to confront him. Right then.

So I gathered my things as quickly as possible. He’d gotten a good start, and all the people I had to dodge around were a nuisance. I panicked when I reached the entrance of the building and pushed outside, unable to immediately spot him. I turned in a circle, searching the stream of students coming in and going out.

Dammit. I’d lost him. I kept walking, not even sure which path he’d taken. Fate was on my side when I caught sight of him up ahead, standing at the end of the main courtyard in the center of the campus with his back to me.

As soon as I was within hearing distance, I called, “Colton!”

He ignored me, though I was sure he heard me. Instead of suffering through the humiliation of calling his name again and having him ignore me—again—I stormed closer and jammed my hands on my hips.

“Colton, dammit. I’m trying to talk to you.”

Admittedly, not the best communication opener of all time, but I was anxious to get to the meat of this. I needed a freaking clear understanding because the runaround between us was wearing me out.

Without turning his attention to me, he continued to watch something across the quad as he answered, “If you fucking apologize to me, I’ll never forgive you.”

My relief was instant. If he didn’t want me to apologize that had to mean he didn’t hate what I’d done. If he didn’t hate what I’d done, I could deal with the rest.

Cocking up a sassy eyebrow, I said, “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it. You’ve never forgiven me for any apology I’ve given you.” My words faded as I realized how true that sentiment was. Struck straight in the chest with dread, I blurted. “Holy shit, you
don’t
forgive me, do you? For what I said that night at the wedding?”

He finally glanced at me, and his eyes swirled with emotion. I couldn’t tell if that was a
yes
or a
no
.

Instead of answering, he pointed in the direction he’d been staring. “You see that girl over there?”

“What?” I blinked and glanced out into the quad.

“The redhead sitting on the bench by herself, close to the big evergreen tree, doing homework.”

“Yeah…” I said slowly, crinkling my brow with confusion as I turned my gaze back to him. “What about her?”

“First month of college last semester, back in August,” he murmured, sliding his gaze contemplatively back to the redhead. “We met at a party. Started talking, had a couple drinks.”

I swallowed, really not liking where this was headed.

“I was into her,” he went on. “I mean, of course I was into her. She was fun and smart, pretty, easy to talk to. So we ended up in the back room and, you know…” He gave an uneasy shrug. “We hooked up.”

I swerved back to the redhead and gaped at her with new insight. “You had sex with her? With
that
girl?”

My stomach immediately cramped, and my vision wavered. I had to blink a few times to clear my eyes, suddenly hating the oblivious redhead who was tucking a long strand of bright red hair behind her ear as she flipped a page on her book. I didn’t care that it had happened months ago, back when Colton and I had barely even known each other and he’d probably only flirted with me at the bar to tick me off, back when I never would’ve even entertained the idea of starting something with him. I hated her anyway because she’d had him and I hadn’t.

So why the hell was he telling me about her? Did he
want
to make me jealous?

“Yeah,” he mumbled, as if reluctant to admit his escapades. Then he added, “We must’ve passed out or something afterward because the next morning I woke up to her sobbing hysterically. She was stumbling around, yanking her clothes back on, and mumbling about how our night together had been the worst mistake she’d ever made.”

I turned to him and frowned when I noticed he looked extremely regretful.

“I…” He shook his head and had to start over before meeting my eyes. “I never had a girl regret being with me before. It sucked. I mean, it really, really sucked. She was so upset, and nothing I said would make her feel better. It wasn’t like I’d forgotten her name or was looking for a one-night stand, either. I would’ve been perfectly willing to see her again and maybe start something if she’d been interested. But she ran off without even talking to me or giving me her number, or an explanation, or anything. And every time I’ve crossed paths with her since then, she’s turned around and fled in the opposite direction, like, I don’t know, I’m some kind of awful piece of shit or something for taking advantage of her because she’d been drunk or whatever, which I
didn’t
think I had done. I hadn’t exactly been sober myself. But then…then…” He jabbed his hand back toward the redhead. “Then I saw her hanging around that guy.”

I glanced over just in time to see a guy approach and sit next to the redhead. When she looked up and saw him, she smiled and kissed him on the lips.

“And then I had to wonder,” Colton continued, “did she have a boyfriend
then?
She never mentioned a boyfriend to me, and
she
was the one who suggested the back room. She knew exactly where to take me to find us a spot. She even kissed me first. So is she just a cheater? Did she turn
me
into a fucking cheater?”

“No,” I said sternly, shaking my head. “If she came on to you and never once told you about another guy in her life, then that’s all on her. Not you.”

He shook his head. “And yet that doesn’t make me feel better at all. All I know is that
that
girl right there is so torn up about what we did that she purposely avoids going anywhere near me. And it’s my fault, dammit.” He shook his head. “I hate this feeling. I told myself I was never ever fucking around with any other wasted chick again. I was never going to be anyone else’s drunk regret.” He suddenly glanced my way. “But then
you
came along.”

My lips parted with shock. “What?”

“You fucking lied to me,” he accused. “You said you wouldn’t regret it. You said you wanted me. You even swore on your heart. But what was the first thing you did when I stepped inside Forbidden the next night to see you? You fucking
hid
behind the counter to avoid me.”

Holy shit. All this time, I thought he’d been upset because I’d said what I’d said to chase him off that night. But no. That didn’t seem to be the reason at all.

I’d had no idea he’d been feeling bad about us because of
my
reaction.

“Oh my God, Colton.
No
.” I began to shake my head because that wasn’t why I’d hidden. That wasn’t right at all. But he only arched an eyebrow.

I licked my lips and took a deep breath, glancing around for something to help me explain myself, but I found nothing. Just a bunch of people passing us on the sidewalk, and some of them glancing curiously our way as we had this very private conversation.

“Come with me,” I demanded. Taking his hand, I started toward the student union, thinking there had to be a place there he and I could talk without a million other people witnessing what we were saying.

Surprised when he actually came with me without any kind of resistance, I glanced at him, but I couldn’t tell what was going through his head. When his solemn brown gaze met mine, an off-the-wall thought struck me.

“Where’s my mug?” His hands had been free of stuff since I’d caught up with him at the quad.

For a moment, I thought he’d tossed it in the first trash can he’d passed because he’d been so mad at me, but he said, “
My
mug. And I put it in the side pocket of my backpack. Why?”

I couldn’t admit that I kind of wanted him to keep it now. So I focused my attention on opening the glassed doors of the student union and dragging him inside.

The walls were glass too. The stairs that led up to a second level were a polished chrome, but I ignored those and started around them, heading toward a commons area where I knew a lot of couches were.

But he yanked on my hand, stopping me. We were still terribly exposed, the glassed walls showed how many people were passing by on the outside of the building. But it was more secluded than before. Besides, I was pretty sure I wasn’t getting him to budge a step further. So I guessed this would do.

He lifted his eyebrows, plainly telling me without saying a word that it was time for me to stop stalling and start talking.

I pulled him under the staircase, which was just one step more private, and then I took a deep breath.

“Okay, I was embarrassed,” I finally admitted, meeting his skeptical brown gaze. “I was so mortified by what had happened—what I blurted out—at the wedding that I was too scared to apologize to you when I saw you come into the bar the very next night.”

“Embarrassed,” he murmured, repeating the word I’d just used. “Mortified.” Then he shook his head. “Yeah, those sound like words of
regret
to me.”

“
No
,” I growled, lifting my voice and stomping my foot. “I don’t regret what I did with you, you idiot. I regret what I said that made you stop. I regret those stupid, awful,
untrue
words that sent you running out of there the way you did.”

“Untrue?” he said quietly as he stepped closer to me.

My lips parted as that realization pierced through me like a wake-up call. Wow. I really
didn’t
regret making out with Colton, did I? And I didn’t think I would’ve even regretted it if we’d gone the whole way. The only thing I regretted was dragging his brother in between us, especially since I was absolutely, one hundred percent sure I was over Brandt.

But Colton didn’t possess such assurances. He gave a small, bitter laugh and shook his head. “Untrue my ass.”

He turned away to leave, but I couldn’t let him go. I grabbed his arm. “Colton—”

“What?
What
?” He spun back to me so fast I lurched away and let go of my grip on him. He clutched his head and clenched his teeth. “What the fuck do you want from me? From the moment I met you, I worshiped the ground you walked on, but all you ever did was shove my attention back in my face and treat me like an annoying, snot-nosed little brat. So I give you space, and now you’re suddenly all up in my grill like you actually
do
want me. I don’t get you. I don’t get what I’m supposed to do here or what you really want from me. I don’t—”

“Shh, shh.” I pressed my fingers to his lips, unable to bear listening to him because it hurt to hear how much turmoil I’d put him through. So I ended up admitting, “I don’t know...I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know what I want.”

Okay, that was a lie.

I wanted him. I just couldn’t admit it.

Humiliated beyond reason, I let go of his mouth and pressed my hands to my cheeks. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry for dragging you into my messed-up head. Honestly, I don’t have a single fucking clue what I’m doing. I just know I never did anyone wrong the way I did you wrong, and I’m...I’m ashamed and guilty and embarrassed. But every time I see you, I just…I get all hot and bothered and want to attack you instead of apologize, like total animal-sex style attack you. Which has to be wrong because I’m supposed to be regretful and feel bad for what I did. And I do. Except I just...you make me…I keep having these visions of pushing you down onto some flat surface and grinding my pussy in your face and riding your tongue so fucking hard the ends of my fingers and toes blow off from the intensity of the pleasure it’d bring. But then I always want to fight with you too, like maybe even fight with you
while
I’m fucking you.”