Heroic Measures (Blackbridge Security 6)

As much as it pains me, I take a step to the side, a clear indication that she needs to leave.

She seems stunned, blinking up at me and taking several long breaths before she makes her way to the door. She doesn’t even slam it when she leaves.

I know I shocked her, but I also feel like I hurt her feelings. It’s not easy for anyone to get called out on being inhumane to others, but I can’t just throw away how I feel to enable her. If she’s being honest, and I am just a fuck and fun time to her, then sacrificing those traits of my own isn’t worth it.

If she were interested in being more, in being there for me when I needed her, not just sexually but emotionally, then things might be different. I could shoulder a lot of burden or discomfort, but not for some woman that needs something to ride to take her mind off something else.

I grind my teeth as I flip the lock on my front door, fighting the urge and winning against looking through the peephole. My hands clench open and closed, open and closed as I turn off the lights in the condo despite the early hour and head to bed.

I’m angry, agitated, and terrified I just made a huge mistake.

But maybe this is the best thing.

I don’t know when casual flew out the window, but since I haven’t been able to think of anything other than her since the first time I saw her walking into the gun range two weeks ago, I imagine the answer is right from the beginning.

Maybe the infatuation will fade.

Maybe what we shared was an experience meant to happen but not meant to last.

Maybe I’ll never know.

But regardless of the emotions swarming in my chest, my cock is still hard, and I know I’m not going to be able to sleep without taking care of it.

I’m mad at her. I’m mad at myself. Hell, I’m pissed at the entire world.

I refuse to gasp her name when I come.

I just chant it over and over in my head instead.

Chapter 16

Parker

My best friend’s cheeks flush a vibrant shade of red after she confesses that Quinten Lake, the instructor from the shooting classes, kissed her. It’s absolutely adorable, and cheesy.

Perfect for her, I guess.

But while she’s been flirting her way to a gentle brush of lips that has her over the moon, I’ve been spreading my legs for her crush’s best friend and coming on his dick.

And lying about it.

I feel like a total asshole.

Even more than I did when Jude all but shoved me out his condo door two nights ago.

We don’t normally keep secrets. Granted, I don’t usually gossip to her about my sex life, but I don’t hedge away from it either. I certainly don’t lie about what I’m doing when I’m going to go hook up with a guy.

I’ve almost convinced myself that there’s nothing special about Jude. The only reason I haven’t been so forthcoming is because of his connection to her guy. What she’s building with that surly man could last a lifetime, and I don’t want to cast a rain cloud on that because I’m just hooking up with his friend.

“Was it a good kiss?” I finally manage after getting out of my own head long enough to remember we were having a conversation.

“It was just like a brush. No big deal.”

“If it wasn’t a big deal then why are you as red as a tomato?”

“It’s hot in here.”

“Is not,” I tell her with a quick laugh. “You really like him.”

Something akin to jealousy settles in my chest. God, what would it be like to actually like a guy that makes me want to smile instead of wringing his damn neck?

“I’ll probably never see him again.”

“You know where he works, Hayden. Just call his office.”

Hello, reflection. Why are you looking at me?

“I have his cell phone, but I’ll never use it, and before you grill me, he gave it to me in case I had an operational question about the security system.”

She’s already many steps ahead compared to Jude and me. We know addresses, but never took the time to get phone numbers. It was never meant to get that complicated. A couple of romps for fun, and fucking look at me now. I’m all surly and angry at a guy for turning me down even though he has every right to say no at any time, just like I do.

“Do you really believe that? Because I don’t see Blackbridge making a habit of giving out personal cell phone numbers,” I argue, trying to shove down my own thoughts and give her the attention she deserves.

“It doesn’t matter. Classes are over, and I’m just going to chalk it up to a lost opportunity.”