Hard to Resist (21 page)

I gulp as he turns while waiting in the line. His fingers are tucked away in the pockets of his camouflage cargo shorts and his eyelashes bat as he turns to scan the area. I want to lower myself in my seat or even better, run away, because this can’t be real.
He can’t be here
. Turning only slightly to look towards the middle of the food court, Bryson’s green eyes meet mine and flicker automatically.

Fuck.

My heart clutches as I begin to stand from the table. I force myself to keep my eyes down and to pretend that I didn’t see him but I know he’s seen me for sure. It’s as if he was possibly hoping to run into me here out of a sheer coincidence.

Holy shit. This cannot be happening. I reach for my shopping bags but as I look to my right spotting Harper’s bags, I groan. I can’t carry hers and mine. My thin arms will break for sure.

“Need help?” a deep voice asks from above me.

My heart pounds through my ears as the voice rings with too much warm familiarity. Somehow, I don’t want to throw up from hearing his voice. Somehow, in a shame filled way, I’ve missed it. Releasing the handles of my bags, I begin to rise slowly. I spot his black Nike running shoes first, his attractively hairy legs that are sculpted athletically, and then his hips. My eyes travel from the hem of his black shirt, up to his firm chest, and then into his emerald green eyes. As I stare into them, they are already smiling at me.

“I’m fine,” I mutter as if he’s just some stranger. Perhaps that’s what he is. That’s exactly what I want him to be. A stranger.

“Lots of bags there, Nat. You sure you don’t need help carrying them to your car?”

“I don’t need your fucking help, Bryson,” I growl. My fists clench and although my words sound harsh, I could give a shit less. He doesn’t deserve any acts of kindness from me. He ripped my heart right out of my chest, sucked all of the life out of me for what seemed like years. To this day, the life is barely there but I’m close to being alive again.

Bryson’s eyes widen but his lips are still hinting at a smile. God, he looks so good right now. Why did I have to run into him here? I thought I’d be prepared for this. I thought that if I were to run into him, I would at least have Nolan by my side but Nolan isn’t here. He has to work all day.

“Still feisty,” Bryson notes. “Still sexy.”

My eyes roll out of natural habit. I know it’s too late now. I can’t go anywhere. I want to turn into superwoman and take all of these bags out to my car but Harper is still here, waiting in line for her food. Slouching in my seat, I refuse to make any eye contact with Bryson. Hopefully he will get the clue that I don’t want to be bothered with him but I know him. I know he has his motives. He didn’t plan a trip to Miami for no reason. He wanted something and I figure that something is me.

He slides into the chair across from me, crossing his fingers on top of the table. Out of curiosity, my eyes slide up to look at him. He is already looking at me, his head tilted, his lips pressed to form a slight smirk, and his eyes soft as he observes me. “How are things down here?” he asks.

“How are things with your slut?” I counter, aiming to be bitchy.

He chuckles as he runs his fingers through his hair. “She aint as good as you. I’ll let you know that now.”

My cheeks flush as I tear my gaze away from his.

“Your eyes were always so pretty. So brown. So deep. They held a lot of things that I had to figure out. Right now, you’re pissed at me. I can feel it.”

Well, duh, dipshit.
“Bryson, what do you want?” I force myself to be brave for once and look him straight in the eye.

“You,” he replies, grinning.

“Well, you’re a little too late,” I sigh, folding my arms. “We’re done. You wasted your time coming down here.”

“Did I?” Quirking a brow, he licks his lower lip smoothly. My lips press heavily as memories of those beautiful pink lips pressing against mine causes my tough shell to crack just a bit. “There’s no denying it,” he says. “You were mad about me.”

“Well now I’m mad
at
you.” His hand snakes its way across the table to reach for mine but I jerk away quickly. What is he trying to pull? What in the hell is wrong with him? I can’t believe I had really fallen in love with him—with someone that believes that I would stoop as low as Sara the Slut by just falling into his arms and kissing him.

“You know what I heard,” Bryson says, kicking his feet up to rest them on the chair beside him. His eyes never leave mine. “I heard that you were putting on a front. I heard that you actually did want me back but you were holding off. Nat, you have to believe me when I say that I’m sorry. It wasn’t supposed to happen. Sara—she came out of nowhere. I was blind sighted.”

“What are you telling me this for?”

“Because I still love you.” He pulls his legs back to tuck them beneath the table again. Standing, he makes his way around the table but stops right behind me. I can feel the heat of his body hovering and to my surprise, he isn’t too close for comfort. “Because I miss making love to you,” he murmurs against my ear. “I miss touching you. Kissing you. I’m still craving for
every part of you
.”

My skin buzzes and hums like it used to do when we were together. How in the hell is this possible. I hate everything about Bryson . . . or do I? I realize now that I don’t hate him. I don’t hate the way he makes me feel, the way he looks, or the way that he treated me . . . but I do hate the fact that he cheated on me. That is unforgiveable. He pulls a few strands of hair away from my ear but I jerk away in a flash to stand to my feet.

“Just stay the hell away from me, Bryson.
We’re done
. And I mean that,” I snap through my teeth. Without bothering to grab for my bags, I stomp through the food court. My eyes burn but I bite at my lower lip to fight the feeling. I rush through the bodies and the crowds, searching for the nearest restroom until I finally decide to just give up and make the turn down a plain hallway where the janitor’s keep their cleaning supplies. I duck around the corner and in an instant, tears are blinding me. I try to swipe at them, but it’s impossible to stop. I’m heaving, drawing in heavy breaths that I’m sure people can hear, even over the buzzing of the commotion going on.

How can he do this to me? I swear I had myself under control. It turns out that I’m not completely over him. And to think that I actually thought I was winning. I’m losing right now. Bryson knows what strings to pull, what words to say, and exactly how and where to say them to make me remember, to make the memories come back. Groaning, I bang my fists against the cold white wall. I wish my fists could shatter the blocks, but instead it’s almost faint. Not even a thud. I’m completely useless.

Chapter Twenty-One

I was lucky that Harper was talking to her sister and mother on three-way during the drive back to her condo. I didn’t want to talk with anyone at the moment. She would have known something was wrong with me and I didn’t want to talk about it. If anything, Harper would have made things worse. She would have ratted me out and told Nolan and then Nolan would accuse me of being a liar and probably never speak to me again.

I grab my bags out of the trunk just as Harper is making her way towards the door, her phone cradled between her ear and shoulder, as she carries her bags. Pressing a hand against my forehead, a sigh escapes my lips and I slam the trunk closed. I reach for my bags but hear footsteps scuffling towards me. At first, I can’t make out who it is but once I reach sight of the pressed khaki’s, tight green Ralph Lauren Polo, and the dark hair that is gelled to purposely be messy and sexy, my heart flutters.

It’s Nolan.

“Hi, Bunny,” he says before stopping in front of me. I begin to speak but he steps forward to plunge his body against mine. His lips smother mine and for some reason, this feeling is just what I needed. I need a distraction. Something to get my mind off of Bryson and I must admit that it’s working. Lifting my arms to wrap them around his neck, I pull him in closer until I can hardly breathe. My back presses against the trunk of my Camry and I groan, feeling more than delighted by Nolan and this unexpected kiss.

“Bunny?” I breathe as he pulls away to lean his head down and kiss the crook of my neck. Tingles spiral and I catch a grip of his shirt, wanting nothing more than to hold on.

“Yeah. New nickname I thought of while I was at work.” He places a kiss on my cheek then takes a step back. “Soft. Cuddly. Sweet . . . well when you want to be, anyway.” He grins, placing a kiss between each word. “And perhaps we should greet each other with kisses this sexy every day?”

I suppress a smile as I begin to reach for the bags.

“No,” he grunts as he pushes my hand away gently. “I got it.”

I nod and begin to head for the condo. “How was work?” I ask.

“Just terrific,” he breathes sarcastically. “I seriously hate that I took my brother up on that job. Traveling is starting to annoy me.”

“What is it that you do again?”

“My brother is a tour guide and I’m like his assistant—only I believe I know more.” He huffs a laugh. “I’m actually working to get a degree in it. At Miami-Dade.”

“Oh, wow. That’s awesome,” I say as we march through the lobby to get to the elevator. I push the arrow pointing up before turning to face him. “So what about music? You don’t want some sort of degree in that?”

“Of course I do.” He grins. “I want to major in Music Production and Engineering but I want to minor in Tourism. Although traveling a lot sucks, I always get a kick out of how people react. Especially the foreigners. They’re amazed by almost anything.” He winks and just as he does the elevator doors slide open and a few people step out. When they pass, we step into the empty elevator and the doors draw in to shut.

“That’s actually really interesting. I just want to major in Creative Writing. It’s all I’m really good at.”

“Not true,” Nolan argues then immediately drops my shopping bags. He steps towards me and his grey eyes stare into mine. Dipping his head down, he cradles me in his arms, and then kisses me. A moan is caught in my throat but I don’t pull away. I can’t. It feels too good. His teeth sink into my bottom lip softly, allowing access to work my tongue around it and let the velvety textures collide.

He finally pulls back but his arms remain tight around me. I breathe him in and notice that he smells different. He smells like he’s been outdoors but sprayed a soft sheen of cologne on before getting back to bases. But it’s still delightful and it still makes me crave for every part of him.

“You’re good at that,” he murmurs just as the elevator dings and the doors open. We’re lucky that no one is around to see us. He steps back, grabs for my shopping bags, and I step out, dazed and somewhat turned on. I trot towards the condo and as soon as I step inside, I spot someone out of the ordinary.

His wavy blonde hair meets just at the shoulders. His chest is firm and sculpted beneath his blue T-shirt. His dark jeans are fit just right for his lean height and as he smiles, his lips stretch and the studs in his eyebrow twinkle. “Nolan!” Dawson says through an unexpected chuckle. “Dude, called your phone ten times today. No answer?”

“I didn’t charge my phone last night plus I was rushing when I got home this morning.” Nolan drops the shopping bags on the sofa before his eyes meet mine. “Things got a little . . . out of hand.”

I flush as I jerk my gaze away and study Dawson. He really is hot and now I can see what Harper means when she says he looks good in bed. He has the lean stature—the look that makes him seem muscular in a natural way. He is fair-skinned, a bit darker than Nolan, but that is most likely from a tan.

“Well, you’re here now. That’s all that matters,” says Dawson. He then turns to look at me and a slow smile creeps across his lips. “Hot-hot-hot-tie,” he purrs.

In a quick snap, my cheeks fill with blood. But to be brave and pretend that I’m cool with his compliment, I reach my hand out. “Natalie Carmichael,” I say as he grabs it.

He shakes my hand. “No need to introduce. My man here can never stop talking about you.”

Nolan chuckles as his head lowers.

“Dude, I called today to tell you that Harp and I are going to the boardwalk. You care to join?”

“The boardwalk?” Nolan’s lips press as he nods. He then turns to look at me. “I don’t know. You care to join, babe?”