Control You (3 page)

Craig gassed it, and then jerked to a stop beside me. He rolled down his window and narrowed his eyes at me. “Get out of the fucking grass, asshole.”

“Yes, sir.” I saluted him and took another drag off my cigarette. I leaned around him so I could see Paige better. “Nice to meet you.” I winked at her and let up on the brake.

Pulling into Craig’s spot, I cut my engine. The song continued to play and I remained where I sat, finishing my cigarette before I had to step inside and share the same air as all his nimrod, country club friends. Why he hung out with those people at all was beyond me.

I hated that I was here, but it was a necessary evil. It was the end of another quarter and I needed my trust fund money. One of the stipulations attached to it was that I showed up in person to sign the papers that were drawn up by Craig’s lawyer for a father. If I missed two consecutive signings, then I forfeited everything. It was a pain in the ass to deal with four times a year, but the money was worth it. Normally, I came, signed, said my hellos so everyone knew I was still alive and kicking, and then booked it to wherever the hell the wind took me next. This time though, I wasn’t sure that was what I wanted to do. The ache that had been building over the last few months swept through me again, just as images of Paige’s doe eyes and sweet features flashed through my head.

Yeah, maybe this time I might be inclined to stay a little longer.

After I finished my cigarette, I headed inside to see if Craig’s circle of snobs had changed any since the last time I’d been here. The mellow elevator music Craig always listened to when in their presence played through the house lowly, and the scent of cinnamon potpourri met with my nose as soon as I stepped through the door. I crossed the foyer and entered the main room as the song was changing. My eyes swept over the room as I paused in the threshold. Jesus, why did all of his friends insist on acting as though they were fifty-five, and at some fucking high society wine tasting or some shit? This was beyond ridiculous.

“All right, now that dickwad has left, can we please consider livening up this…whatever the fuck you want to call this thing?” I glanced around at everyone’s astounded faces.

“Well, well…if it isn’t Cameron,” Drew Deshane, Craig’s best friend, said in the most condescending voice I’d heard in a long time. God, I fucking loved being home.

A smile twisted at the corners of my lips. “Damn right, in the flesh.”

Drew moved from where he’d been standing off the kitchen to sit on the armrest of the sofa. I knew his type and this move; it was intended to make him appear more intimidating. It wasn’t working. The dude tried too fucking hard sometimes. “Payout time again? Let me ask you, what drugs are you planning on blowing it on this quarter?”

I nodded my head and smirked. What a douche. “Ask Genevieve what she’s in the mood for. I’m sure she’ll want in on whatever I find.” I cast my eyes to Genevieve, who was sitting in the recliner, and licked my lips as my smirk grew.

Genevieve and I had a thing a few years ago. She and Drew had been taking a break, and I happened to be in the bar during one of her breakdown moments because of it. She’d come on to me, said she knew I could help her escape from her mind for a bit, so I did her the favor of allowing her to be free. We’d snorted some shit, gotten drunk off our gourd, and one thing led to another. To me it hadn’t meant much—she’d just helped to occupy my mind by occupying my body for a while—but to her it meant much more. She thought somewhere along the line that night that we’d become a couple, and I had to let her know straight away that was not the case. She’d gone crawling back to Drew and claimed I’d taken advantage of her at a weak moment, and, of course, he believed her. This was where his current chip with me remained in place on his shoulder. If you asked me, that chip should be with Genevieve, because I swore the girl still undressed me with her eyes every time she saw me.

Drew’s face changed to beet red. The veins in his neck bulged and his jaw grew tense. I wanted to laugh. He hated it when I brought up the fact that I’d slept with Genevieve and he was playing house with my sloppy seconds. I wasn’t an asshole woman-hater; I simply enjoyed fucking with Drew. Make that people in general. Some would describe me as a trust fund baby addict with asshole tendencies. I liked to describe myself as someone who knew how to live life to the fullest and had a shit-ton of personality.

“I highly doubt that,” Drew seethed. “She’s grown up. We all have…except for you. Some people never change, do they? Are you planning on living like you’re sixteen for the rest of your life?”

I stalked across the main room and into the open kitchen, purposely making him and everyone else wait for my response. Nothing in this house had changed since I’d been gone. Well, nothing besides the paint color. Candace, Craig’s mom, painted the walls in the kitchen at least twice a year. She was an interior decorator and constantly changed things around in her house—wall colors being one of them.

I opened the fridge and grabbed one of the Heinekens I saw in everyone’s hands. Pulling my lighter from my pocket, I popped the top off and took a long swig.

“You only live once,” I said. I opened the fridge again, and grabbed two more beers. Clasping them tightly in one hand, I headed through the kitchen and into the dining room.

The French doors leading to the backyard and the pergola porch were my destination. I had a few phone calls to make, and I needed peace and quiet to do so. The last thing I wanted was for any of the assholes inside to figure out what I was doing and tip Craig off. No, I wanted him to come back from dropping off gorgeous at her place to find his house chock-full of the rowdiest people I could round up.

Picturing his expression in my head, I sat down in one of the wooden lounge chairs that overlooked the backyard, set my extra beers beside me, and dug my phone out of my pocket. Tipping my beer back, I scrolled through my contacts, wondering who I could call that would come liven up this party on such short notice, and smiled. Craig’s party was about to get crashed.

PAIGE

“What did he say to you that had you laughing so hard when I came out?” Craig asked. His voice was clipped, as if he was pissed at me for something.

I thought for a moment, realizing if he was pissed because of that, then he definitely didn’t want to know what had been said to make me laugh. I hated how I always seemed to be walking on eggshells with him lately. “Nothing really, just introductions. I was trying to be friendly.”

“Well, future reference, don’t. Don’t be friendly with him. He’s a player of the worst kind and an addict. He’s no good.” Craig’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, and I noticed him gritting his teeth together. I’d never seen him this serious about something.

“Okay. So what’s he doing at your house, then? You obviously know him. Is he your brother or something?” An image of Cameron flitted through my mind, and I doubted he was Craig’s brother. Half-brother, maybe?

“Fuck no, he’s not my brother.” Craig cut a sharp right onto Clearcove Avenue. “He’s just someone’s son my parents used to be close friends with. His parents died when he was sixteen, and my parents sort of became his legal guardians. He’s not my brother.”

I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear, and glanced at my chipped nail polish. My heart sank to my stomach at the knowledge of his parents dying when he was a teenager. Granted, I didn’t always get along with my parents, or approve of the way they’d raised me, but I never would wish them dead. I couldn’t imagine how tough that must have been, and at such a crazy age too. “Why don’t you guys get along? Is it because he’s an addict, like you said?”

Craig shifted his eyes from the road to glare at me. “Why are you asking so many questions about him, Paige?”

His words took me by surprise. “I’m not. I’m just curious as to why there’s so much hostility between the two of you.” Mainly Craig. Cameron didn’t seem too aggressive toward him. In fact, he seemed to enjoy pushing Craig’s buttons and teasing him. That was part of the reason I’d thought they might be brothers.

“It’s none of your business why; just know that I don’t want him around you. He’s not someone you need in your life.”

Coldness slipped through my core at his words. What the hell was with him tonight? He was being an ass.

“Don’t you think I can pick and choose who I want in my life?” I wasn’t normally one who dealt well with confrontation, but sometimes there were moments when you had to have a little backbone with people.

Craig inhaled and then exhaled, as though he were frustrated with me beyond comprehension. His features softened and his grip relaxed on the steering wheel. “He’s an addict, Paige. He’s manipulative and can’t be trusted. It’s best if you stay away from him.” I took note of his concerned tone as his hand moved to rest on my thigh.

“Okay.” I shifted to look out the passenger window, glad I was going home. Craig was a little too intense for me tonight, and now that Cameron was here, I was sure that intensity would only magnify.

The leaves on the trees caught my attention as we passed by an overlook area where you could see mountains for miles. It was only the end of September, but the leaves were already in the midst of changing from green to gold. Pressing the button for my window, I cracked it, letting in the cool night air. I let out a loud sigh and felt Craig’s thumb move in a lazy pattern across my skin.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so much like a dick tonight.” He turned onto the street before mine. “Cameron caught me off guard, and I hated the fact he’d been standing with you on my porch, making you laugh like that. I got jealous. Can you forgive me?” I glanced at him. His bottom lip was poking out. He shifted his eyes from the road to me for a split-second, just long enough for me to see that they were wide and innocent. “Please?”

I laughed. “I guess…but you were being an ass tonight.”

“I know. You can teach me a lesson for being such a bad boy another night, promise.” A mischievous smirk stretched across his face.

“Oh, really?” I teased.

He glanced at me, raising one eyebrow. “Really.”

“I think I like the sound of that.”

Craig turned into the Calmount Apartments entrance and slowed his Explorer. I scanned the parking lot for Blaire’s little Mazda. It was parked in its usual spot and right beside it was her boyfriend Jason’s blue Jeep. I frowned, wondering if I should send her a text to see if they were busy or something.

“What time did you say you were meeting with your parents tomorrow?” Craig asked. He pulled into a parking space and shifted into park. Letting the engine idle, he then placed his hand back on my thigh.

“About ten, why?”

“Just wondering, I’d like to have dinner or something with you afterward.”

I shifted in my seat to face him better. “Actually, I’m supposed to go out for dinner with Lauren and Blaire tomorrow night.” Craig pressed his lips together and I felt my stomach twist. I hated seeing him disappointed. “We haven’t gotten to hang out just the three of us since Blaire’s incident. Lauren and I both think she needs a good dose of girl time to slip a little farther out of her depression.” I wasn’t sure what possessed me to explain myself, but I had, with the hopes it would curb his mood a little.

“I thought she was doing better.” The dimple in his chin became more apparent as his lips twisted into a frown.

“She is, but she’s still in a funk about it all. Jason seems to be the only thing making her happy lately, and Lauren and I want to make sure it’s not because she feels like she has to put on a façade for his sake about it all. I mean, she’s not severely depressed or anything…she’s just having a hard time bouncing back, but I think that’s understandable.”

He ran a hand through his sandy blond hair. “It is.”

I shifted closer to him. “But, I think Monday night we should all go out to dinner together for a group date. Maybe dinner and a movie? What do you think?”

“All of us, as in?” He raised an eyebrow and flashed me a tiny smirk.

“Me, you, Blaire, Jason, Lauren, and her boyfriend, Jimmy. I think you’ve met him once before.” I placed my hand on his.

“The guy with the long hair and hard to understand accent?”

I nodded. “Yep.”

“Oh, babe, I don’t know. That guy sort of irks me. He walks around like he’s some sort of sex god or something, always flinging his hair.” He shook his head and scrunched up his eyebrows.

My insides warmed. I loved it when Craig called me babe. I’d always wanted a boyfriend who used names like that in a relationship. It was cute. I smiled at him and batted my eyelashes. “Please, for me?”

He rolled his eyes. “I don’t know. This guy is not my favorite person.”

“You’ve only met him twice. How do you know?” I leaned into him and kissed his cheek. “Please? Come on, it could be fun.”

A downcast expression pinched at his face and he rubbed his chin. “I’ll think about it and get back to you tomorrow.”

I kissed his cheek again and smiled. “Thanks.”

“That wasn’t a yes, you know. It’s more along the lines of a maybe.” He chuckled.

“It’s close enough for me.” I pressed my lips to his, and felt his hand move from my thigh to my hip.

His fingers dug into my skin as he deepened our kiss. His tongue slipped across my bottom lip and begged for entrance into the recess of my mouth. I parted my lips, granting him what he wanted. His mouth tasted of stout beer, but his pillow-like lips and the tender stroke of his tongue made up for it. He slowed our kiss, just as he’d done to me many times before, and slipped his tongue along mine gently. I could make out with him for hours. In fact, I had before on previous occasions.

I climbed over the center console and straddled his lap. His hands roamed up my sides, along my ribs, past my shoulders, and then cupped my face. Sucking my bottom lip into his mouth, he caused an explosion of tingles to spread through my lower stomach. My hands fisted the front of his shirt, and I attempted to intensify the kiss the way I wanted it to be, but he refused to let me. Instead, he kept the pace tortuously slow. His fingers slid beneath the fabric of my shirt and brushed lightly across my stomach. Leaning my head back, I gasped at the sensation that spiraled through me. Craig trailed his soft lips across my jaw and down my throat, pausing once he reached my shoulder.