Used (Unlovable, #1) (Unlovable Series) (5 page)

“I want to kiss you so bad … but if I kiss you, it will change everything,” he says in that gravelly voice.

“Change is good,” I whisper.

Rolling to his side, his mouth is centimeters from mine. I can’t make myself move although I’m aching with want. But I haven’t been kissed—ever. And I haven’t kissed anyone since that time on the monkey bars in seventh grade when I stuck my tongue in Brian Thomas’s mouth on a bet. I shocked the shit out of him, and he didn’t even kiss me back. When the bell rang, he jerked back and hit his head hard, sending him to the nurse for the rest of the afternoon. Not my finest moment.

“I don’t want to lose my best friend,” he tells me.

I bring up my other hand and run it over his jaw. “You’re not going to lose me. No matter what. We’ll still be friends.”

“Relationships ruin friendships. We’ve seen enough of that.”

I shiver with that truth. “True. But we’re different. We’ve been together since before we were born. I can’t live without you, so I won’t hurt our friendship.”

Bringing our entwined hands up, he kisses my knuckles. “Me either. We’ll take it slow, all right?”

“All right, my golden boy,” I whisper.

The effect of my words is instantaneous; the blue in his eyes intensifies to boiling. He leans in, his lips brushing mine softly. “Denver,” he whispers against me. “I’ve always wanted to make you mine. Ever since I understood what that meant. I’ve never seen anyone but you.” And even though his eyes burn with passion, I hear a little tremor in his voice. Now, him always putting off those girls makes a whole lot more sense.

“I thought we were taking it slow,” I chastise, but I delight in knowing that he feels something more for me.

“I just want you to know that I don’t take this lightly. You’re the most important person in my universe. And I’ll do anything to protect us.”

His declaration unleashes a torrent of need in me, and I no longer want him to kiss me—I
need
him to kiss me. “Greer, will you shut up and kiss me, please?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says with a laugh, and bringing one of his hands up, he cradles my jaw and draws my lips to his. He shudders against me as my free hand skims down to rest at his waist, his jeans riding low on lean hips, I hook a finger in the belt loop and brush my thumb across his warm, bare skin. His lips are soft and explore mine as I match his movements. His indulgence ruins me—spoiled by his goodness. I try to savor how tender and sweet he is even though I am impatient for more, so when I feel his lips part, I follow suit quickly. His tongue sweeps in, seeking and teasing. An involuntary moan works its way out of me. I’m almost embarrassed by my eagerness, but when his moan echoes mine, I’m reassured and reignited.

He pulls back after a few more seconds and places a gentle kiss on my lips, then on my nose. “Denver …” he breathes. My name packs a punch, and I feel it everywhere.

Keeping my eyes closed, I just nod and lick my lips, trying to savor every bit of him and his sweet words.

O
UR SUMMER PROGRESSED
like that—stolen moments, playful times, sweet … and hot … kisses. Until one day I woke up and realized I was falling in love. I’ve always loved Greer as my friend, but now my feelings had morphed into something that consumed me, making me crave him. I wondered if that was normal, or healthy, to feel that intensely about someone.

When we weren’t together, which was pretty rare, we were texting or talking on the phone. I wrote him letters and gave them to him with a promise that he wouldn’t read them in front of me. I babbled about my plans for my horses, for my future, and for us. He was so cute. He answered every sentiment with his own thoughts and ideas, feeding off of mine, yet growing them, until our ideas were bigger and better together.

A few weeks before our magical summer would come to an end, my world was shattered. And I used the broken shards from the wreckage to carve up my life until it was virtually unrecognizable … but necessary. Although Greer never left my side, our relationship would never be the same. Never again would it be the pure and innocent thing that it once was. He did his best by me, but I knew deep down that I had forever tarnished my golden boy.

Chapter Three

Now

M
AKING MY WAY
across the room to him, that familiar pull is as tangible as a tightly held string being wound around its spool, but I am so confused as to why he didn’t tell me he was coming here that it’s hard for me to be excited to see him. I start to worry about the plans I have of making it on my own and changing my reputation and path. Of course, now I know that changing my reputation is going to be more difficult than I thought.

Even though he’s got two girls fawning all over him, his eyes never leave mine. When I reach him, he says, “Girls, have y’all met my best friend, Denver?”

They turn to me, and the look of disgust that passes over their faces is almost comical. One of them sneers, “Yeah, we met her earlier. She’s the one, huh?”

Greer exhales loudly and grabs me by the wrist. “Yeah, she’s the one,” he mutters quietly, as he whisks me from the room.

“Greer, what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in Wyoming.”

He ushers me out the door and into the breezeway where our party has spilled out. Lacing his fingers through mine, he continues leading me until we round a corner onto an empty walkway outside of the campus apartment building. When we reach a quiet spot, he pulls me against him.

“I couldn’t do it,” he murmurs into my hair.

“Couldn’t do what?”

Hugging me tighter, he says, “Leave you. I couldn’t leave you.”

I hug him back and kiss his cheek. “It wasn’t forever.”

“It felt that way.”

“How long have you known you weren’t going to Wyoming?”

“Since we said goodbye.”

I slap him on the shoulder. “Greer, that was weeks ago.”

“I know. I wanted to tell you, but there was never a good time with you being gone to your dad’s and all. And then I thought you might like the surprise. Girls like surprises, right?”

I laugh and pull back to see amusement dancing in his eyes. “Usually. But I wish you’d have been honest. I was honest with you.”

“About that …”

“Yes?”

He takes a deep breath, and I see the resolve building in his eyes. “I want us to be together. What I said back there about you being the one—you are my one.
My
one and only. I want a fighting chance with you, Denver. You didn’t give me one. You determined that we were … what was the word you used …
toxic
.”

“Greer—” I start to protest and try to move from his embrace. He cuts me off and pulls me tighter.

“You’ve never given me a chance, chicken. You put me in that damn compartment, and that was it. You owe me better than that. I’ve always been there for you, and you know it. I don’t deserve that.” Determination rings in both his voice and his eyes.

I know he doesn’t deserve that, but it’s what I had to do for my sanity. He was all right with it until he wasn’t anymore. I don’t know how to answer him without hurting him, so I change the subject. “I hate when you call me chicken. And we’re in college now, so do you think you could drop it?” I tilt my head and ask, “Why
do
you call me that? Just to get on my nerves?”

Laughing, he rubs his jaw for a minute. “Chicken butt is to get on your nerves. But not chicken.” I raise my brows, prompting him to continue. “When I was little, I was obsessed with chickens. Loved ‘em.”

“I remember.” His favorite thing had been to feed the chickens, but he didn’t leave when his task was completed. He hung out and watched and laughed and carried on.

His look turns a little shy, but he continues.“ Yeah, well, I thought they were pretty, with all their colors and gracefulness and conversations.”

I can’t stifle the laughter that bubbles up. “Conversations?”

He drops his head back on the wall. “Yeah, conversations. You can’t sit still long enough to notice, but they’re actually really smart and beautiful and unique.” I let out a deep breath. “You’re
my
chicken.”

I roll my eyes and shake my head at him. “That’s sweet, Greer. But I’m still not crazy about it.”

His eyes turn serious and capture mine. “And it’s been my secret way of saying ‘I love you’ ever since we were eight years old.”

My heart slams to a stop inside of my chest before slowly picking back up and regaining speed. I say nothing. Couldn’t if I wanted to. He’d told me he loved me before, but not until we were sixteen—the knowledge that he has been telling me long before that is humbling.

He grabs my belt loops, pulling me even closer. “All I’m asking for is a chance, Denver. I know the commitment thing is hard for you. I’ll be patient,” he says with all seriousness.

Committing to him is not the issue. God, I’d give anything to be commitment-phobic. That would be a walk in the freaking park compared to my issues. I finally nod, and leaning in, I admit, “I get it. I do. But it’s not a good idea to be with me, Greer. I just don’t trust myself. You shouldn’t trust me either.”

“But I do. I know you better than anyone. Hell, I know you better than you know yourself sometimes, especially where this is concerned.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” I persist. It’s always been about protecting him from me. Can’t he see that?

“I’ve never known worse pain than when you left me and told me that what little we had was over. I’m hurting right now,” he pleads, his voice desperate. “But I believe in us. Can’t you try?”

I don’t want to hurt him with my next statement by making him feel like he’s old news, but I need him to understand where my head is. “I hoped college would be a fresh start for me.”

His hands slide around my waist, holding me tight to him. “Maybe it’s a fresh start for
us
too.”

I should’ve known better. He always sees the positive. Who could say no to his hopefulness? I take in his earnest expression. His beautiful blue eyes shimmer with the moonlight and promise. “I’ll think about it,” I somewhat relent.

“
I
CAN’T BELIEVE
you’re not drunk,” Maggie says as we enter our dorm room. I have to admit, college is pretty cool so far, seeing as we can party right on campus and not have far to go to crash. I’m pretty jealous that Greer had gotten the apartment deal too.

“I can hold my liquor pretty good. Except for tequila. I only drink that if I have no desire to feel or think or remember shit. Did you even have a drink?”

“No, not big on it.”

“So … Pete?”

She turns and sinks in a dreamy state onto her bed, letting out a loud sigh. “Pete Ford,” she singsongs. “He drives a Chevy.”

I laugh loudly. “Well, that confession is not the one I expected to hear from you since you two snuck off for a bit.”

“I know,” she squeals. “I just thought it was cute. He’s so … spectacular.”

“Spectacular? Do tell.” I crack the bathroom door open while I change quickly into my pajamas and brush my teeth.

“I don’t know. He’s just … different. We talked about everything, like we were old friends. He was so nice to everyone who came up to him. He actually recounted the times he’s seen me ride.” She groans loudly, causing me to poke my head out of the bathroom. She looks mortified. “He saw my fall last March, Denver.”

I grunt around my toothbrush and quickly spit into the sink. “And he still thinks you’re cute? He’s a keeper!” We watched the tapes while we were prepping. It was gruesome, and she still had the knot on her head to prove it.

“I know, right? And, what’s better, he asked me on a date. Like an actual date! He didn’t do that annoying thing that guys do nowadays. You know? That immature as hell thing they’ve got going on.” Her voice drops and she mimics, “You wanna hang out sometime?” I burst out laughing as I try to rinse my mouth out. “Anyway, he’s Ransom’s best friend. They’ve been rodeoing together since they were real little.”

“Really?” I can’t keep the interest from my voice.

“Yeah, he said Ransom’s a good guy. Tough, of course. Grew up real harsh, but is set on making something of himself.”