Crave (The Gibson Boys 3)

Navie looks between Hadley, Peck, me, and back at Hadley with a curious bend of her brow. “I’m Navie. It’s nice to meet you.”

“I’m sorry. Things aren’t usually this awkward,” Hadley says.

Peck laughs. “She’s lying. They’re always this awkward between the two of them.”

I glare at him again. Everything inside me is lamenting the missed opportunity, and as I look at her, I’m not sure I’ll get it again.

“This should be fun.” Navie laughs, running a hand through her hair. “So on a different note, I just want to remind you that I have to be out of here early tonight, Machlan. I mentioned that a few weeks ago. Just wanted to make sure you remembered.”

“I can help out,” Hadley offers.

I don’t even look at her. “The fuck you can.”

“I work here now, remember?”

“The fuck you do.”

“I told Spencer—”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass what you told Spencer,” I say, turning to face her. “You don’t know the first thing about bartending, for one. For two, I’m not about to let you in here at night alone.”

“I can stay with her …” Peck gulps as I flash a look his way. “Forget I said anything.”

My chuckle is low and angry. But as I take in my cousin, I realize I’m not actually mad at him. Or at Hadley. I’m mad at me.

Something in my genetic makeup makes it impossible for me to ignore Hadley Jacobs. It’s like God created me with a chink in my armor, then He created her to fit that weakness, and I can’t get around it to save my fucking life.

As I look at her across the room, I can’t figure out what it is that lures me so hard. She’s beautiful, but I’ve seen women who are technically prettier. She’s smart, but I’ve met smarter. She’s funny but not quite as funny as she thinks she is. She’s good and honest, but even she holds secrets and most of them are with me.

That’s why I can’t just write her off. I’m bound to this woman by scars etched on both our hearts; scars we share with only each other.

I tune back into the conversation as Navie picks up the remote for the television above the bar. “I love poker,” she says.

“A lot of us meet up at Machlan’s a couple of times a month and play. You could come sometime, if you want,” Peck offers.

“Really?” Navie looks at me.

I just shrug.

“He cheats,” Hadley says.

“I do not.”

“You totally do,” she says. “You change the rules halfway through the game—”

“No, I don’t. You don’t know the rules and think I’m changing them when they don’t go your way.”

She puts a hand on her hips. “Then how do I beat you every time?”

“Because I let you.”

Navie’s laugh fills the bar. “You two sound like an old married couple.”

Hadley’s hand falls to the side as she flips me one final gaze. She starts off toward the back of the bar. “I asked him to marry me once. He rejected me, so that won’t be happening again.”

I hear Navie’s gasp and see Peck’s jaw drop out of the corner of my eye. I wait for Hadley to look over her shoulder, to give me some clue as to why she just said that in front of an audience, but she doesn’t. She just opens the door and lets it pop closed behind her.

My eyes close as I count to ten. I don’t get to four before my legs start toward the back door too.

Eleven

Hadley

My sneakers squeak on the asphalt as I pivot to make my way up the splintered staircase. Bursting up the rickety steps, the handrail wobbling in my palm, I make my way as quickly as I can to the apartment.

I have no idea what led me to admit that out loud—in front of Peck and Navie, no less—but my cheeks are hot to the touch as I step into the kitchen.

This is not how this was supposed to go. I’m not here to let him kiss me.

But oh, God, I wish he would’ve.

My phone lights up on the table, and Samuel’s name is on the screen with a text message. I walk right on by, leaving it untouched.

My hand touches the spot on my cheek where Machlan’s hand rested.

I’m an idiot.

The entire point of being here is to figure out how to forget the touches and smiles and kisses, not to create memories of more.

I reach for my sweatpants on the bed when the sound of someone barreling up the steps stops me in my tracks. My back to the door, I wait for Machlan. I don’t have to wait long.

The door opens, rocking against the wall and rattling a picture of an old man praying before dinner on the wall. His presence takes up the entire room.