Sucker Punched (25 page)

My lips curl. “You’re my exception, too. Everyone else has to take me on at least two dates before I’ll have sex with them.”

“That’s not funny.” With the way he just tensed up behind me, I can totally picture the sour look on his face right now.

It makes me grin.

“You know what I mean,” I say. “You’re the only one I’ve done that with. The only one I’m
ever
going to do that with.” I bite my lip before recycling his line. “It’s different with you.”

This seems to appease him, if the little designs he begins tracing on my shirt are any indication. “Are you going out with him again?”

“This weekend.”

“How long will you make him wait?” How he can ask such a personal question in such a casual tone astounds me. It’s like he just asked if it’s going to rain on Saturday.

“I don’t know.” It’s a good thing it’s dark. I’m sure my face is turning a
lovely
shade of blotchy red. “I don’t have a set number of dates in mind.”

“So there’s a chance it could be this weekend?”

No, probably not. But I’m not going to tell him that, because it’s none of his business. 

“Why do you care?” I’m getting tired of beating around the bush. If he’s got something to say, then he needs to hurry up and say it before it’s too late.

“The same reason you cared about Chloe.”

Hearing her name feels like a twist of the knife he left in my heart. I can’t help but cringe. I could’ve gone my whole life without knowing her name was
Chloe
.

Suddenly I don’t feel like being around him anymore, and I certainly don’t want him touching me. I try to push his arm away, but it only squeezes me tighter. I’d need a crowbar to pry the damn thing off.

Frustrated and hurt, I lash out at him the only way I can. “I’m pretty sure when I
do
fuck Hayden it’s not going to be an hour after I tried to fuck you.”

He holds me tight as I struggle against him, his voice low and steady in my ear. “Key word being ‘tried,’ Duchess. You shot me down. If you tried to fuck me, you’d succeed.” I stop fighting long enough for him to continue. “I wanted
you
that night. You’re the one who said no. You can’t just throw that back in my face when you’re the one who didn’t want it.”

Is he serious? “Yeah,” I scoff. “You made it perfectly clear how much you ‘wanted’ me when you moved on to the next girl like it was nothing. You wanted me for ten minutes, but you had her all night.”

My mouth snaps shut as soon as I realize how much I’ve let slip. God, could I
sound
any more bitter?

Shit, shit, shit.

Blake finally lets me push him away. I scoot over and curl up on the other side of the bed, squeezing my eyes shut as I pray that he lets this go.

He’s quiet for several moments, until he softly speaks up. “If you care this much, then why’d you say no?”

Of course I’m not that lucky. . .

Sighing, I open my eyes and stare into the darkness. “You said it didn’t have to change anything, Blake, but it would’ve changed everything. I’m not like you. I can’t be with someone and not have it mean anything. I can’t sleep with you and then pretend like it doesn’t kill me when you bring home the next girl.”

“Then I won’t bring her home.”

I roll onto my back and look at him. From that side of the bed, his face is partially illuminated by the streetlight filtering through the curtain. He’s looking up at the ceiling, his brows drawn tight in contemplation.

“What?” Is he saying what I think he’s saying?

His head rolls over on the pillow until his eyes meet mine. “From here on out, we don’t have people over. Do whatever you want with Hayden, but you do it at his place.” He doesn’t seem thrilled with the idea, based on the disdainful way he mutters Hayden’s name, but he doesn’t actually voice his problem with it. All he says is “Out of sight, out of mind, right?”

I guess. . . “And you’ll do the same?”

“Of course. I’ll only fool around with Hayden at his place.”

I roll my eyes and kick him under the blanket, making him laugh.

The smirk slowly fades from his mouth as he scoots toward me, disappearing into the darkness again. “From here on out, you’re the only girl who gets to sleep in my bed.”

“Be serious.” I push him away as he tries to pull me close.

“I am. Don’t forget whose bed this is, Duchess.” His arm snakes around my middle as he pulls me flush against his chest, his leg draping over mine.

Why is he getting comfortable? He should be heading back to his own room, not resting his head on my shoulder like I’m some kind of life-sized Macy pillow. “What are you doing?”

“Going to sleep.”

My stomach does a backflip. I shouldn’t let him sleep in here. This is one line we definitely
don’t
need to cross, but instead of telling him to get out, I roll over, getting comfortable. I might as well if he insists on taking up half my bed.

I mean
his
bed. My bad.

He adjusts his arm so it’s under my pillow, while his other arm holds me close. I hate to admit how good this feels. I could really get used to falling asleep in his arms. . .

My smile fades as I realize that none of this is real for him, not like it is for me.

I don’t doubt Blake’s fondness for me, but he doesn’t feel the same way I do. He might not like the idea of me dating other guys, but he’s apparently not going to do anything about it other than sulk and pout.

He’s made it perfectly clear that a relationship with him is just not going to happen, and I need to accept that. Letting him spoon me to sleep is
not
accepting that. I need to let go of this tiny hope that one day he’ll change his mind. 

He won’t.

I swallow past the knot in my throat, trying to keep my voice even. “We can’t keep doing this. We have to draw a line somewhere.”

His arms tighten around me like a dog with a bone that’s about to be taken away. “You draw a line and I’ll cross it, I guaran-fuckin’-tee it.” His nose brushes my hair before his lips touch my neck. “Maybe instead of worrying about what we should and shouldn’t do, we do what we want. And right now, I want to lie in this bed with you and feel you pressed against me, because I fucking missed you. Is that what you want?”

I bite my lip, answering honestly. “Yes.”

“Then don’t worry about it.” He presses a chaste, almost reverent kiss to the back of my shoulder and a tear slips free, dropping down onto my pillow.

Don’t worry about it?

That’s easy for him to say. He’s not the one living in Hiroshima.

I didn’t expect to fall asleep on Hayden’s couch while we watched
The Green Mile
, but I
really
didn’t expect Blake to still be awake when I got home. It’s almost two in the morning. Didn’t he have to work today?

He doesn’t acknowledge me as I walk into the living room. In fact, he doesn’t do anything other than scowl at the TV.

Nice to see you too, jerk.

My brow cocks at what looks like an animated Mike Tyson on the screen, along with a talking pigeon and a ghost. “What the hell are you watching?”

“
Mike Tyson Mysteries
.” He says it like I’m pulling teeth.

I’d ask what has his panties in such a twist, but sadly, this is the new normal for us. The longer I see Hayden, the more Blake acts like an ass. He says it’s because I spend all my free time with Hayden, but whenever I
am
with Blake, he acts like this.

It’s not exactly a ringing endorsement for him.

He turns off the TV and stands, then pulls his phone out of his pocket and checks the time. “You must’ve had fun tonight.” 

I don’t appreciate the stank in his tone, or his insinuation that I was out whoring it up. We agreed not to ask any questions about each other’s sex lives. I don’t ask where he’s been when he comes home drunk, and he shouldn’t give me shit when I come home late. Nothing even happened, at least not like Blake probably thinks, but I’m not going to tell him that because it’s none of his goddamn business. 

Since he’s being a dick, I smile coyly, letting him think the worst. “I always have fun with Hayden.” 

It’s true. We have so much in common it’s kind of scary. And okay,
maybe
I’ve been spending extra time with him to get over this stupid little crush on Blake, but that’s only because it’s working. 

For the most part. I really like Hayden, but it’s hard to remember why I want to get over Blake when he climbs into my bed every night and cuddles me to sleep.

Our new agreement is that we do what we want, but sharing a bed is as far as it goes. I know we shouldn’t be doing it, that it’s only making things harder, but I can’t seem to stop.

I don’t
want
to stop.

Sometimes I wonder what Hayden would think if he found out, and then I feel guilty. I rationalize it by reminding myself that he’s not my boyfriend, not yet. We haven’t talked about being exclusive. Hell, we haven’t even had sex yet, so technically I’m not doing anything wrong. And technically I’m not even doing anything with Blake.

My whole love life seems to be a giant gray area.

Blake’s jaw muscle flits under his skin at my comment, his gaze downright murderous. But instead of interrogating me, he motions to the stairs in an “after you” gesture.

I roll my eyes and head for them with Blake on my heels. 

I can’t believe he waited up for me. I’d think it was sweet if he wasn’t being such a douche about it.

When I get to my room, I turn to close the door, but Blake waltzes past me like he owns the place. Oh no, wait, he
does
.

My irritation only grows when he plops down on my bed and lies back, folding his hands behind his head. Incredulous, I open my mouth to ask him what the hell he’s doing. This boy’s so hot and cold he’s giving me whiplash with these mood swings. 

He lifts a brow, daring me to tell him to leave, and I. . .can’t.

I sigh and head for the bathroom, turning on the water to fill the tub. After testing the temperature, I plug the drain. I’m about to close the door when I notice Blake standing in the doorway.

“We taking a bath, Duchess?”

My gaze narrows at his glassy, slightly unfocused eyes. “You’re drunk.” 

He holds his alcohol so well it’s hard to tell sometimes, although I’m not surprised. It seems like he’s always drunk lately.

“It’s your fault. I was beginning to think you were spending the night at you-know-who’s, doing you-know-what. Picturing you two was driving me crazy.”

“So you drank?” That probably only made it worse.

He shrugs. “I was aiming for oblivion. Didn’t quite get there. Next time I’ll just kill myself instead of drinking half a bottle of whiskey. It’ll be cheaper.”

“That’s not funny.”

“No, it’s not.” The serious, almost sad look he’s giving me makes me uncomfortable. I don’t
think
Blake’s suicidal, but I don’t know. He’s becoming so unhinged that I honestly don’t know what he’s capable of. 

I’m not scared for myself; I’m scared for him. 

I turn the water off and grab a hair tie from the counter, piling my hair into a messy bun. Blake takes his shirt off and tosses it on the floor.

“What are you doing?” Exasperation seeps into me, weighing me down. “Go to bed. Sleep it off.”

Ignoring me, he unbuttons his jeans. “I don’t want to. I want to get in this tub with you. I want to spend five goddamn minutes with you before you go to bed and start another day of ignoring me.” He pushes them down, kicking them off.

Well now I feel like shit. “I’m not ignoring you.” My voice comes out quiet and I do my best to keep my eyes on the floor. 

It’s better if I don’t look at Blake. Seeing him half-naked makes me want to do bad things that feel good. Add even the tiniest bit of pity and I’ll likely try and make him feel better with blowjobs or pussy.

Just kidding. It’ll be blowjobs
and
pussy.

“Then take your clothes off and get in.”

I glance up at him. “Turn around.” It’s not like I haven’t taken a bath with him before, but he didn’t see me naked then. I’m not sure we should start now.

He steps forward, lowering his voice. “Do you want me to turn around because you’re shy, or because you don’t want me to see you naked?”

I swallow, my face heating under his mental dissection. He’s right. The thought of him seeing me completely naked like this is terrifying.

But also exciting, if the butterflies in my stomach and the sudden wetness between my thighs are any indication.

Blake smirks. “That’s what I thought.”

My face pinches at his smugness.
Bastard
. I release a harsh breath through my nose and pull off my shirt. I toss it on the floor, next to Blake’s, and unhook my bra. Before I slip it off, I point at him in warning. “This doesn’t mean I’m having sex with you, capisce?”

He nods.

My fingers hesitate on the straps, my stomach cartwheeling from those damn butterflies. I suck in a quick breath, steeling my nerves, and push the straps down. My bra falls to the floor, joining our growing pile of clothes.