Sucker Punched (24 page)

Well that went better than I thought. I was honestly afraid for Hayden’s life for a few seconds after Blake walked in.

The look on his face was downright scary.

“Where were we?” I grab my highlighter and flip through my notes, trying to find the last section Hayden told me might be on the final. Right when I find it, my stomach decides to pipe up and grumbles. Loudly. “Sorry.”

“Maybe we should take a break and get something to eat?”

My stomach rumbles in agreement, and I laugh. “Good idea.” I close my book and stand, grabbing my jacket from the back of my chair. “Let me pop outside and tell Blake he’s on his own for dinner tonight.”

I slip out of the kitchen and head for the back door, my heart slowly crawling into my throat. Blake clearly wasn’t happy to find Hayden and I studying, but I’m not entirely sure why. Was I supposed to clear it with him first? Let him know that someone was coming over? I didn’t think it’d be that big of a deal.

A gush of cold air hits me as I open the door and step onto the tiny porch. Blake doesn’t look at me. He remains seated in the rusty white lawn chair, his scowl still firmly in place as he glares at some unseen point in the distance. 

I’m not sure what to say. Apologizing seems stupid, because one, I have no idea what to apologize
for
, and two, I’m not sorry.

He takes a drag of his cigarette before his gaze swings up to mine. “Seriously, Duchess?
That
guy?”

“What?” I’m an adult. I don’t have to explain my choices to anyone, least of all Blake. “He’s nice, and if he wants to help me study for a final that he’s already taken, then I’m not going to stop him.”

Blake snorts, angrily stamping out his cigarette in the ashtray next to him. “The only reason he’s helping you is because he wants to fuck you. Guys are assholes like that.” He stands and grabs his beer from the railing.

“You’re not. You’ve helped me out plenty without expecting anything in return.”

He shrugs, indifferent. “Just because I don’t expect it doesn’t mean I don’t want it.”

Blake wants to fuck me? Big deal. He wants to fuck everyone.

I let my anger bleed through. “So what if Hayden does? I’m single and he’s cute. Seems like a perfect match.”

His eyes narrow into vengeful little slits as he takes a step toward me. I instinctively flinch and as soon as I do, Blake stops, looking sick.

“Did you think I was going to hit you?”

“No— I don’t know. You just. . .caught me off-guard.” My cheeks turn pink, but it’s got nothing to do with the cold air stinging my face.

I feel like such an idiot. Blake would never hurt me. Objectively I know that, but he looked so mad and he was heading right for me and it all happened so fast. It was just a gut reaction.

I don’t want to look at him, but I force myself to since I legitimately owe him an apology now. Only the look on his face kills the words trying to form in my throat.

His jaw clenches, his gaze fierce as he stares down at me, pinning me in place. “I can’t guarantee that I’ll never hurt you, but I promise it’ll never be with my fists. I’d cut off my own hand before I’d ever fucking hit you.”

Swallowing, I nod, unable to say anything else.

Blake’s eyes dip to my mouth, lingering there for a second before he steps down from the porch. His boots crunch on the patches of snow littering the backyard as he makes his way to the garage.

I sigh, feeling frustrated. Our first conversation in days, and it was a disaster.

I head back inside, where Hayden’s waiting for me in the living room. He stands from his seat on the couch. “Where do you want to eat?”

I smile at him, though it feels wooden and forced. “Surprise me.”

“Oprah, Rosie O’Donnell, and Hillary Clinton.”

Hayden cringes. “Ooh. That’s a tough one.” Scratching the back of his head, he squints at the road. “Okay, I’d marry Oprah. For her money, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

He glances over at me as he makes a right turn. “Am I allowed to do it in the dark or have her face the other way?”

I shake my head. “Nope. Full eye-contact the whole time.”

“What about Viagra? Is that allowed?”

I can’t help but smile at how seriously he’s taking this game of
Fuck, Marry, Kill
. “If it’ll help you power through.”

“Then I’ll fuck Rosie and kill Hillary, but only because I’d be able to tell my friends I scored with a lesbian.”

“Ah, yes. That’s like the holy grail of bragging rights, isn’t it?” 

“Pretty much.”

The car slows to a crawl as he pulls to the side of the street, and it takes me a second to realize we’re already at Blake’s house. The ride home flew by. The whole
night
did, because Hayden’s pretty damn great.

He’s cute and funny, and such a gentleman. He even opened my car door and everything.

Like he’s doing right now.

I grab my purse from the floorboard as he walks around to my side, opening the passenger door. “Thank you,” I say, climbing out. “And thanks again for dinner.”

“You’re welcome,” he says, shutting the door. “You know, I was thinking. We should get together this weekend and go over your notes again. Really make sure you’ve got this stuff memorized.” He frowns as he talks, trying entirely too hard to look serious.

“My final’s on Friday.”

“Then we should meet and talk about how it went. Maybe over dinner again?”

My teeth catch my lip as I struggle not to grin. “Are you asking me on a date?”

There were definitely fireworks tonight, there’s no denying that. It just sucks that the only other thing I really have to compare them to is essentially an atomic bomb.

One is pretty and captivating, but if you’re not careful you could get hurt. The other is all-encompassing destruction and when it’s all said and done, there’s nothing left of you but dust. 

There are no pieces to pick up, nothing to try and mend. Everything’s just gone in the blink of an eye.

At this point, Hayden seems like the safer bet. He
might
break my heart, but at least with him I’d be able to pick up the pieces and move on. With Blake, there’d be nothing left.

“That depends,” he says.

“On what?”

He clears his throat as the cutest, most self-deprecating smile crooks his mouth. “On whether you say yes or not.”

Chuckling, I start walking backwards toward the dark house. “You’re in luck. It just so happens I’m free this weekend.”

His mouth tugs to the side almost ruefully as he sticks his hands in his pockets. “I get less awkward with each date, so you should really stick around. Date number ten is when I hit my stride. I will literally charm the pants right off you.”

“Well I don’t want to miss that.” 

Hayden stays to make sure I get inside safely, and once I am, he waves and gets back in his car.

I hang my bag on the coat rack in the foyer, right as my phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out and see a text from Hayden.

Goodnight :)

I’m smiling like a silly teenage girl with a crush as I reply. The smile doesn’t budge until I realize how quiet the house is.

Blake must be asleep, which is just as well. I don’t know what I’d say to him if he were in front of me.

I make my way upstairs, sighing as I close my bedroom door and start undressing. Tonight was a nice distraction from whatever the fuck is going on with Blake and I, but now that I’m back on the battlefield, I feel the tension creep back into me.

I hate this. I hate that we’re fighting, and I hate feeling like I can’t talk to him about it. I just want things to go back to normal, but I don’t know how to fix it when I don’t know what’s broken.

Why did things have to get so complicated? We were fine last week. Hell, we were
great
. Then he fucked some other girl and it’s like someone flipped a switch in him. 

He’s been moody, distant, quiet. I’m not exactly thrilled that he slept with someone else, but it’s not like I’m giving him the cold shoulder over it. If anything, he’s the one who’s been avoiding me. 

I don’t get it. What’s got his panties in such a twist? 

And why was he acting like a jealous douche earlier? He fucked another girl, for Christ’s sake. He’s got no right to be jealous of Hayden.

Scowling at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, I tie my hair into a messy bun and start scrubbing off my makeup. Once my teeth are brushed, I grab an old sleep shirt and tug it on, then turn off the lights and slide into bed.

I wish I had someone to vent to. I can’t talk to Savannah about it, because she warned me this would happen. She’d never come out and say “I told you so,” but I’d see it all the same in her expression, and I’m not ready to deal with that yet. 

I’m not ready to admit defeat.

Fluffing my pillow, I pull up my blanket and cocoon myself in its warmth. I feel the edges of sleep creeping in, making everything hazy, when my phone dings on my nightstand.

I lift my head and reach for the glowing screen, expecting to see a text from Hayden, but I’m surprised to see Blake’s name at the top of the text alert. I swipe right and read:

You still awake?

The question might seem innocuous to anyone on the outside, but I know it’s not. Not when he hasn’t texted me in days. Not when we couldn’t go five
hours
without texting each other before.

Could this be the olive branch I’d been hoping for?

My heart beats faster as I swipe right and type a quick response:

Yes.

Three little dots appear, then disappear. He deleted whatever he was typing, and any hope that we were about to reconcile is deleted with them. My stomach starts to plummet but then three more dots appear before this text pops up:

I’m sorry I’m such an asshole.

I smile at my phone, my body suddenly feeling ten pounds lighter. My response is immediate, because I don’t even have to think about it.

You’re forgiven.

I watch the incoming text bubble pop up again and wait for whatever he’s typed.

Blake: Can I come in?

My heart flips again and I bite my lip, debating. I want him to, but I’m not entirely sure what would happen if he does. Would we fight? Would we make up?

Would we make up
too
much?

I’ve learned to expect the unexpected when it comes to Blake. I honestly have no idea what he’ll do if I let him in.

Me: That’s probably not a good idea…

A few seconds later, my bedroom door opens. I turn off my phone and smile in the dark. This is such a
Blake
thing to do.

That man’s incapable of staying inside the lines.

My bed dips as he climbs in behind me and pulls me against his chest, spooning me. I’m shocked for all of half a second before I think,
Fuck it
, and melt into him. It’s easier to go with his flow than try to fight it, especially when you factor in his warmth and how utterly perfect his arm fits around me. 

It’s really a no-brainer.

But that doesn’t mean I can’t bust his balls just a teensy bit. “I told you not to come in here.”

Propping himself up on his elbow, he kisses my shoulder. “You told me it wasn’t a good idea, not that you didn’t want me to. They’re two very distinct things.”

Indeed, they are.

I bite my lip, the corners of my lips curving. “I missed you.” I say it so quietly, I’m not even sure he heard it.

But a moment later he says, “Me, too.”

“Then why’d you stay away?”

He shrugs and lies back down, burying his face in my hair. “I thought you’d want me to. Figured you were mad at me.” His voice comes out soft, like a scared little boy.

I sigh, feeling my chest ache. I’m no psychologist, but even I can tell he’s got some unresolved issues.

With his father being an alcoholic and his mother dying at such an important time in his life, it’s obvious why he’s as emotionally stunted as he is. He said it himself, he deals with things by drinking and sleeping around, which doesn’t solve anything. It’s no wonder the man’s never had a serious relationship before. 

He probably doesn’t know how. And he seems completely uninterested in trying.

“I’m not mad,” I finally say. “Just. . .hurt.”

“I know.” He squeezes me tighter, like he’s afraid I’ll slip away. “I’m sorry.”

He’s quiet for several minutes. The silence and his warm embrace are starting to lull me to sleep when he speaks again, his voice quiet, restrained. “Did you sleep with him?”

I laugh. “
No
. It wasn’t even a real date!”

Blake relaxes against me. “So? You slept with me before I could even take you on a date.” 

Even though I can’t see that well, I glance at him over my shoulder. “I thought you didn’t date.”

“I don’t, but I would’ve taken you on one.”

“Why?”

He shrugs again. “It’s different with you, Duchess. You’re the exception, not the rule.”