Notorious (8 page)

“What do you mean “no”?”

“I said no.” He withdrew from her and started pacing the length of her living room. “I don’t want to share you.”

His possessive words—despite not wanting to hear that particular answer—she couldn’t help but feel a little thrill at them. That he didn’t want to share her when he had no problem sharing Alexa…

What did that mean? What did she mean to him?

“Why not? It would just be a one-night thing. A fling. You told me you wanted me to be more adventurous.” She sounded like a cheap floozy looking for a good time, but she’d been curious. Being with Eric, talking with him, he never delved much into his personal feelings yet he had no problem describing the various sexual escapades he’d experienced. Oh, he didn’t talk about Brandon and Alexa though there were other things. Dark stuff. Sometimes lonely stuff.

She didn’t want him to be lonely or in the dark. She wanted to share…everything with him. She wanted to be everything he could ever want in a partner. She figured by making this offer he would snap it up.

But doubt suddenly assailed her. Could she really be what he wants?

“Did we not just have a conversation about Alexa and Brandon and how I don’t want to be involved with them anymore? That entire scenario, it fucks with my head and I hate it. And then you hit me with ‘hey, let’s have a threesome’. Think about that. It makes no damn sense.” He stopped to glare at her, his jaw tight, eyes blazing with irritation, frustration. “You’re being kind of selfish, you know.”

“Me? Selfish? Oh, that’s a good one. You’re the most selfish person I’ve ever met.” She leapt to her feet, thrusting her face in his so she could glare right back at him. For good measure she poked him in the chest with her index finger, catching the wince that flitted across his face. “You keep everything locked up inside you. You come around here whenever
you
want, you’re never consistent. We’ll hang out, fuck around, have fun, talk a little bit and then poof. You’re gone for days until you decide to come back around again.”

Stacy stared at him. She felt as if she were in a daze. This couldn’t really be happening. She’d talked him out of not breaking up with her, and they were fighting all over again because she started it. She had to get this off her chest or she’d burst. He had to know what he was doing to her.

“I never made you any promises when we started this,” he said quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor. As if he could hardly stand to look at her.

“Thank God for that, or I’d be really crushed.” She stepped away from him. He was shutting down. She saw it in the way he behaved. The expression on his face, his body language, he was shutting her out. She may as well tell him to leave.

“If this is how it’s always going to be I should go,” he whispered. “Arguing all the time. I don’t do this kind of shit.”

She wanted to slap him upside the head. Arguing all the time—this was their first argument. And as soon as it got a little difficult he ran? She really shouldn’t be surprised. “Go then. It gets a little tough and you can’t handle it. I’ve already had my fair share of crappy boyfriends. I don’t need another one.” She waved her hand toward the door. “Go.”

He didn’t budge. Didn’t say a damn word. Just stood there with his head hanging low and frustration ripped through her.

“Leave,” she practically screamed. He looked up at her, his gaze so dark she sucked in a harsh breath. He was hurting. She could see it. But he wouldn’t let her in.

And she couldn’t help him if he didn’t tell her how he really felt.

So he left. Without a word he hustled his ass out of her apartment, didn’t even give her a backward glance and when the door clicked shut she collapsed on the couch. Beat her fist on a pillow, screamed into the cushioned back of the couch, the sound muffled. Hysterical laughter bubbled up inside her and she collapsed on her back. Stared up at the ceiling and laughed.

Better than crying, right?

She’d cried enough tears over Keith more because she felt sorry for herself than anything else. Eric, though, he was a different story.

The asshole. She was better off. She knew it. It was fun. It was a great little fling but boyfriend material? Steady, serious, she-can-see-a-future-together material? Oh, hell no.

And she didn’t even know what possessed her to tell him she wanted to have a threesome. Was she nuts? Did she really want to do it or was it some sort of desperate ploy to keep him interested? She’d meant it when she said it, but if they would’ve actually attempted such a thing would she have balked?

Probably. She’d become more adventurous since going out with Eric but maybe she wasn’t
that
adventurous.

Stacy sighed. She needed to take a good look at herself and figure out where she screwed up. She had the next two days off. The perfect time for a little self-reflection.

It was time for some self-reflection. And the very last place Eric needed to do such a thing was in the middle of a bar on a Saturday night.

Yet here he was, drowning his sorrows in the hard stuff. No beer for him tonight, no. He needed hard liquor to get through this crap.

Sighing, he looked up from the counter, staring at his reflection in the mirrored wall behind the bar. The wall was lined up with a multitude of liquor bottles, his face smack in the middle of a sea of them and he hated what he saw. He looked stressed, tired. There were dark circles under his eyes, his hair was a mess and he hadn’t shaved in a couple of days. He looked like hell.

He felt like hell.

Polishing off his drink, he set the glass on the counter, the ice rattling within. The bartender appeared in moments, a smile on his handsome face, his eyes sparkling. Usually the sight of his eagerness reminded Eric of their one wicked moment together in the back room of the bar but tonight, he felt nothing. “Need another?”

“Sure.” Eric shrugged. Why the fuck not? He wasn’t far from his apartment. He could stagger back.

Or he could find a hot piece and fuck around for a while. Clearly he and Stacy were done. He didn’t owe her anything. Certainly not any sort of explanation for his actions.

I am such an asshole.

That had been his mantra since the moment he met Stacy. He’d never lied to her about that. And she still hung around, trying to get him to open up. She’d even tried to pretend they had some sort of relationship.

He hated to disappoint her, and he knew without a doubt he just disappointed her big time.

But what the fuck, asking for a threesome—was she insane?

“I can’t believe you’re here.” A man sat next to him, his voice familiar. Too familiar.

Eric turned to his left to find Brandon sitting next to him, a grim expression on his face.

“You are the absolute last person I want to see,” Eric muttered, spinning on the barstool away from Brandon so he could leave.

“Wait.” Brandon’s fingers clamped around Eric’s upper arm and stopped him from fleeing. “I need to talk to you.”

“There is absolutely nothing for us to talk about.” Eric glared at where Brandon held onto him and Brandon released his arm.

“Don’t get all shitty with me.” Brandon shook his head and that’s when Eric noticed.

The bags under Brandon’s eyes, the scruff on his face, the fall of his shoulders, he looked as weary as Eric felt.

“What’s wrong?” Eric couldn’t help it. He still cared for the bastard. Even after everything Brandon had done to him.

Brandon shook his head and sighed. “I’m not sure about Alexa and me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that it’s not working. It hasn’t been working for a while. She seems…restless. Unsure. Like she wants more and no matter what I give her, it’s never enough.”

“Well, she’s a pretty tough cookie to please.”

“Tell me about it,” Brandon muttered, offering a murmured thanks to the bartender when he set a mug of beer in front of him. “She’s spoiled rotten. But it’s my own fault. I’ve spoiled her. Everyone spoils her.”

Took the words right out of Eric’s mouth. “You knew this going in.”

“You’re right. I did. I thought I was enough. Maybe I’m not.” Brandon swigged from his beer, draining half of it in one long swallow. “I’ve been busy with work lately. She told me I don’t pay enough attention to her.”

Eric mused over his words. This was his chance. His chance to fuck with Brandon and Alexa and ruin their relationship if he so chose. He could convince Brandon to give up on her. Or at least, he believed he could. If this would’ve happened a few months ago, he would’ve done it, no thought required. He would’ve bad-mouthed Alexa to Brandon and then turned around and done the same thing to Alexa. Watched with unmitigated glee at the demise of their relationship, all of it aided by him.

But he wasn’t that same guy anymore. He didn’t want to watch them suffer, no matter how callous they’d been to him. He couldn’t do it.

“You should pay more attention to her then,” Eric suggested.

Brandon turned to stare at him, disbelief in his gaze. “I figured you’d tell me to dump her.”

“Oh, and then what? Beg you to come back to me?” At the sheepish expression on Brandon’s face Eric knew that was exactly what he thought. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen.”

“I still feel guilty over what we did to you,” Brandon admitted softly.

“You should.” Eric looked away, drained his glass until it was empty. “I’m over it. Don’t worry about me.”

“So what’s got you so agitated, then?”

Eric sighed. They’d been together far too long for Brandon not to realize something was bothering him. “Woman trouble.”

Brandon laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. “So we’re having the same problem, then?”

“Yeah.” Eric shook his head. He really didn’t want to confess he was banging Stacy. And that he was such a shit he treated her exactly like that. An object to bang versus a flesh-and-blood woman—a woman with feelings and expectations. Expectations he wasn’t sure he could live up to.

“With who?” Brandon smiled. “I thought Alexa turned you back off women.”

Eric laughed. “You don’t know her.” He was such a liar. “She wants a relationship. I don’t.”

“She realized this going in, didn’t she? I mean from what I’ve heard, your reputation precedes you.”

Eric grew immediately defensive even if he knew Brandon was right. It felt as if everyone talked about him. His private life wasn’t private at all.

Not like he’d hidden anything either. He put it all out there for everyone to see.

“I—like her,” Eric confessed, grimacing the moment the three words left him. “I don’t want to hurt her. But I don’t know how to do this.” He waved a hand in the air.

“Do what, a relationship? Of course you know how. We were together for a couple of years,” Brandon reminded him.

“Yeah, but that was different. And it got all screwed up by Alexa.” Eric caught sight of the frown on Brandon’s face and pointed at him. “Don’t deny it. You know it’s true.”

Brandon sighed. “Listen. If you really like this woman, then you need to go back to her and tell her. Don’t fuck it up. If she wants to be with you regardless of what you’ve been doing these last few months, then she must really care for you. Don’t let her get away.”

“I could give you the same advice,” Eric said, his voice soft. “If you don’t want to lose Alexa, then you two should work it out. And not by inviting me back into the mix, either.”

Brandon grew sheepish. “Did Alexa talk to you?”

“No.”

“Then how did you know about that?”

Shit. He was about to give himself away. Of course, Alexa would blab all anyway and Brandon would know he’d been with Stacy. What a tangled up mess this was. “She told Stacy and Stacy told me.”

Brandon frowned. “You know Stacy?”

“Yeah.” Eric grew uneasy, shifted his weight on the barstool. “She’s the one I’m talking about. Me and Stacy—we’ve been together.”

“You and Stacy? Alexa’s best friend?” Brandon threw back his head and laughed. Laughed so hard he caused more than a few bar patrons to look their way in question. Eric slapped him on the shoulder to get him to shut up. “This is fucking crazy. How did you end up hooking up with her?”

“I saw her at this very bar one night.” Brandon started to laugh again and Eric nudged him. “I’m serious. We started talking and next thing I knew…”

“You were fucking her,” Brandon finished bluntly.

“No.” Eric shook his head. “I was
chasing
her.”

“You chased her?”

“Yeah.” Eric smiled. “I did.”

He did. Somehow, in all the bullshit he forgot. How bad he wanted her, how bad he needed to be with her. He’d taken a risk and then crapped all over it. He was such an idiot.

She’d already given him a second chance. A third, a fourth, probably even a fifth. Would she give him another? Or would she shun him forever?

It was time for him to man up and beg for her forgiveness.

And give her what she wanted.

Chapter Seven

The unexpected knock on her door came five nights after she and Eric had the big blowout. Five long days and nights it had taken Eric to come back to her.

Stacy knew without a doubt it was him. Who else would rap on her door with such fierce intensity past nine o’clock on a Thursday night?

She went to the door and checked through the peephole. Yep, there he stood. Looking far too good for words, his hair neatly groomed, which was unusual, and his face clean-shaven. He was dressed nice, as if he had plans to go somewhere and she wondered if she was included in those plans.

And immediately berated herself for even thinking such a thing. She didn’t need to go anywhere with him. She shouldn’t even open the door. He didn’t deserve her forgiveness.

But she opened the door anyway. Her heart stopped at having him so close, at the sight of the hopeful smile on his face. Just like that she wanted to melt. She wanted to run into his arms and tell him he was an asshole in the same breath that she wanted to confess she missed him.

Yeah, she had it so bad she didn’t even want to fight it anymore. She’d turned into a complete glutton for punishment.

“Stace.” He smiled and the sight of it took her breath away. “Go put on your sexiest outfit. I’m taking you out.”