“It’s very possible,” he said. “And if you expect me to feel sorry for finally managing to kiss you, forget it. I want more than that kiss. Much more.”
She drew in a shaky breath and backed away. “We barely know each other anymore, and I don’t do one-night stands.”
“Is that what you think I want?” Anger made him bold. “I know you. I know what you do and don’t do. I know I want so much more from you—so much that one kiss just made me need you all over again, even if I don’t know if you hate me or just want to know what I’d be like in bed. God, here I am with stars in my eyes…and you think I want a one-night stand.” His jaw clenched. “Maybe you’re the one who doesn’t know me as well as I’d thought.”
Her teeth sank into her lip so hard he thought she’d break skin. “That’s not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair,” he said. If life was fair, he wouldn’t be in this position yet a-fucking-gain, hoping the princess would look down from her ivory tower and notice him. “Get used to it.”
“You’re being childish,” she said, jaw tight.
He stepped back. “Maybe I am.”
She drew breath to speak, making her chest heave. His eyes dropped to her soaking wet tank top. Her white tank top. His gaze lingered on her breasts, and the clearly visible pink bra cupping them. He nearly forgot his anger. Need took its place. Need to take her into his arms, carry her up the stairs—
“Enough,” she blurted. He jerked his eyes back to her face, where they belonged. Her eyes were wide, her cheeks so red they looked bruised. “This discussion’s over. I’m going to get cleaned up. Stay here.”
He saluted. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Don’t,” she said, and turned away with a toss of her hair. “Don’t make this worse by being flip. I want to be friends, Jeremy.”
She ran up the stairs. He clenched his fists. Frustration scored through him.
“Sure,” he grit out. “Friends.”
He watched her until she disappeared. Friends. What a fucking joke. Tommy and Erica were the only friends he’d ever had. The only friends who’d ever seen through his bad-boy act, who understood that he wasn’t his father, and wouldn’t repeat his father’s mistakes. The only people who forgave him for his screw-ups. The only people who let him be a normal, flawed human being.
And he still wasn’t good enough for even them. Not good enough to trust, and not good enough to love.
That hurt more than any fight, any bullet wound, any loss. Erica had lost faith in him seven years ago. So why had she kissed him? Regret? Did she ever think back to that night, and wish it had happened differently? God, he hoped she did.
Because damn him, he couldn’t think about anything else.
Chapter Three
Erica woke to morning sunlight, blurry eyes, and one hell of a headache. Probably the least remarkable phenomenon in Vegas. At least other people could claim it was from a wild night of alcohol and sex.
Erica had gone to bed alone. Alone, and painfully sober.
Had she really kissed Jeremy last night? Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She had nothing to offer him. Nothing he would want, anyway. She wasn’t the same girl he’d idolized. No, not idolized. Idealized.
She was as far from anyone’s ideal as a woman could get.
And he was a Marine. He’d leave her soon, shipped off to God knew where, and she’d be single and alone when he left. Even if they tried anything, it was doomed to failure. Long distance relationships never worked. How could theirs?
Not to mention she’d be a wreck while he was gone, wondering who was shooting at him today, if he’d come home short one leg but with a little surplus shrapnel, if he’d never come home at all.
She rolled over and buried her face in the pillow. She was getting ahead of herself. Jeremy was off limits. He deserved better. Deserved more. She was just a scarred, broken shell of the Erica he’d loved. She laughed and joked around with him, but only because he brought back old memories. Happy ones. There would never be long nights alone, wondering if her lover was under enemy fire, hoping and praying for him to come home safe.
Though that wouldn’t stop her from worrying anyway.
She rolled out of bed. She’d drop him off at his hotel, move on with her life, and only let herself worry in those quiet moments before sleep when she couldn’t lie to herself anymore. It had been fun seeing him again, but that’s all it was. Fun.
If she got rid of him now, she wouldn’t end up blurting out her secret like the blabbermouth she’d been in grade school. Wouldn’t have to see his face cloud over with revulsion. Wouldn’t have to dwell on that one sweet kiss…and how she’d reacted to it.
Though she’d never forget how he’d looked at her, in that moment before he kissed her. As if he’d loved her through the years, across the distance, and would love her through anything.
Wishful thinking.