Use Me (Caldwell Brothers)

“Not sure yet.”

“Are you still in contact with her?” I gasp out, not understanding how he can say that. This is someone from his past.

“We have a fucked-up kind of relationship.”

“Oh... well...” I pause, now doubting everything he told me.

Single? Pft.

When I can’t take it, I ask, “Do you love her?”

“Don’t know that, either.”

“What the heck is that supposed to mean?”

He shakes his head and smiles. Then he reaches over and turns up the radio again.

“Are you still with her?” I ask louder.

He looks over at me and rolls his eyes, not replying.

“I’m sorry. I just want to know things, okay?” I reach out and turn down the radio again.

“I’ve told you everything you’ve asked about.”

I know I’m not going to get any further by pushing. He seems dead set on not talking about his sexual past, and I’m fine with that.

I look up and see a sign. You are now leaving Highland Park.

“Thank fuck,” he groans as he puts on his sunglasses.

Eventually, he reaches over and takes my hand in his.

I look over at him to see he is looking straight ahead.

We don’t talk anymore, just hold hands and listen to the music and static play through the radio.

When he pulls up in front of the hotel, he hops out and walks around the truck, opens the door, and I get out. Then he pushes the sunglasses up on his head and looks down at me.

“Gonna stay out of trouble, Legs?”

“Legs?” I ask as he smirks, his eyes raking down my body.

“Wanted them wrapped around me from the day I saw them. But apparently, you like it in the gym.”

I feel my face heat up, but he’s correct. “I’ve always been a bed kind of girl.”

His eyebrows slowly creep up. “Don’t care about your past, don’t lay claim to your future, just enjoying our little story.” One hand grips my hip, the other lifts my chin. “Am I allowed to kiss you before I leave, or is that a no go?”

“Please,” I say, closing my eyes as his lips descend upon mine.

So soft, yet so possessive, he kisses me like he doesn’t care who’s watching. As his tongue slides into my mouth, I forget to care, too.

Once he steps back, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a phone. “Think I can give you my number, just in case you wanna shoot me a text if you’re gonna go out and get drunk, hang out in the middle of the night by the river, or... I don’t know, go into the murder capital of the world and hang out in run-down cemeteries?”

I rattle off my number as his eyebrows turn in. He hits a bunch of apps and curses under his breath.

“You want me to do that?”

“Why the hell do people need these things?” he grumbles.

“We can’t survive without them.”

“Survived this many years, but Buck insisted, so I got suckered into the two for one shit.” He pauses and looks up at me. “You wanna do this?”

“Yes, I do.”

I take his phone and punch in my contact information—all of it: address, email, and my phone number.

“Now send me a text, and I’ll have all your info, too,” I tell him.

He looks at me funny, and I can’t help laughing.

“Green bubble-looking thing; hit it and the keypad pops up. Then type me a message.”

“Okay, got it.”

“You wanna come up?” I ask bravely.

He looks at his watch. “I need to get back. I’ll send you a text.”

Disappointed, I nod. “See you around.”

I take a step away, and he grabs my hand, stopping me. Then he kisses me again. This one is not as soft, but just as possessive.

“I’d really like to come up. Enjoyed the fuck out of coming up”—he smirks—“last night. I’d rather do you than go dance around a ring with a bunch of sweaty men.”

“You sure about that?”

“One hundred percent. But I got responsibilities. I’ll shoot you a text.” He looks down at his phone as he walks away.

Chapter Eighteen

I spend the rest of the day in the ring, feeling like a dollar short of a million, as opposed to last night’s million.

Fuck, just being around her is a release. I don’t worry or wonder what she’s thinking like I do everyone else. I had an emotional as fuck day, but then I see her and all I can think about is kissing her pink lips and wanting to be inside her.

The night is slow, so I run up and grab the damn book to do my part of this muse thing and write something. Then I sit in the office and write:

After Annie told me she was leaving in a couple weeks, I wouldn’t say I wasn’t disappointed. Hell, I was. But a woman like that shouldn’t be stuck in this shithole for any lengthy amount of time. I didn’t even want to be here, but I had... responsibilities, a... family business to run, and... a younger brother to take care of.