Halfway there,memories of our kiss seeped into my mind.
For a moment, he was almost mine.
I touched my lips and peeked up at him. He looked deep in thought, his body tense as he led us with long strides. When we got to Pete’s, he chose our seats. We ordered as soon as the waiter came since we both always got the same thing. An extra cheesy bacon burger with a side of fries and a strawberry milkshake.
“Is everything okay?”
“Your father is a prick,” he said through a french fry he was chewing.
“Do you hate him because of me?”
He shook his head and stuffed more fries in his mouth. If he wasn’t so hot, I would be turned off by his lack of table manners. “I hate him because he’s a prick.”
“Your father ain’t a peach either.”
“I know, but the difference is, I don’t care. You do.”
“He’s your father. Of course, you care.”
“You don’t know me, Sprite.”
“I know you’re a jerk,” I muttered and sipped at my shake. When I looked up, I found him watching me… or rather, watching my lips around the straw. I don’t know what made me do it, but I sucked a little harder and kept eye contact. The disgust on his face was not the reaction I was looking for. He threw down his napkin and sat back.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
I immediately let go of the straw. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re looking at me that way again.”
I gulped.Again?Was he talking about today or every single day during the last five years? It started out as an innocent crush, which slowly turned into something that ached in my lower stomach. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, yes, you do.”
“Ok then. How am I looking at you?”
“Like you want what I got, and I’m not talking about the food.”
“I’m not sure I—”
He leaned over the table. “Listen to me,” he growled. “It will never fucking happen. Do you know why?”
Stupidly, I shook my head.
“Because I do notfucklittle girls.” My gasp of embarrassment fell on deaf ears. “Jesus, I thought you were cool.” He stood up quickly, and his chair scraped across the floor, drawing attention and adding to my pain. “I’m in love with someone else. Stay away from me.”
As soon as he pushed through the doors, I flew out of my seat for the bathroom and burst into the nearest stall to empty my guts.
Hewascapable of love.
Just not for me.Chapter Forty-TwoBranded.
MIAN
PresentI woke upalone the next morning. I pulled the blanket tighter around me and willed myself to go back under when last night came rushing back. Memories of almost being killed and Angel’s vow that everything was different now left me with a hangover worse than a night of drinking.
Angel’s grandfather tried to kill me.
Lucas saved me.
Angel believed I was innocent.
Angel slept with me. And he didn’t just sleep with me. He held me the entire night.
And I liked it.
I stretched and gazed at the sunlight coming through the window. I didn’t hear the door open, and my back was turned so I couldn’t see, but I felt him like I always did.
He came into view, and the first thing I noticed was the jeans he wore. My body reacted involuntarily. It’s been years since I’ve seen him in jeans, and it was no argument that he filled them out even better now. The second thing I noticed was the shopping bag he held in his hand.
He sat down in the space between the edge of the bed and me as he set the bag on the floor. “Good morning.”
“Morning.” I inwardly groaned at the deep, raspy sound of my voice. I sounded like a bear whose honey just got stolen.
“I had clothes brought for you.”
I perked up. “Clothes?”
“And shampoo.”
“Conditioner, too?”
God, were we actually rhyming? I groaned and covered my eyes with my hands. I peeked through my fingers and caught him staring at my chest. The blanket had slid down to reveal my bare breasts.
“What’s the catch?” I asked because I wanted his eyes off my chest and because I didn’t trust him.
“I’m happy to continue parading you around naked.”
“Or you could just let me go.”
He broke eye contact and rose from the bed. “Get dressed. You have an hour.”
As soon as the door closed, I peeked inside the bag and pulled out a simple sky blue dress. It was strapless and short but not fitting enough to make it slutty. It looked like those skater dresses I saw girls wearing lately. There was a smaller pharmacy bag inside the shopping bag. I found shampoo, conditioner, lotion, shaving cream, a razor, shower gel, and a loofah. I finally felt excitement again at the thought of showering.
Now, the only thing I needed was a pair of underwear and a bra. I stuck my hand in the bag, and then my face—but found it empty. Once again, Angel had found a way to keep me prisoner.