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Taking What's His(22)

By:Diane Alberts


“We already went over this shit, Lydia.” He spread his hand over her lower back, guiding her toward his truck. He’d been trying to avoid touching her, because touching her made him want her even damn more. She dug her heels into the pavement, but he refused to stop propelling her forward. “Get. In. The. Truck.”

“Fine.”

Huffing, she followed him, her back tense under his fingers. Funny, he knew the perfect remedy for that. Too bad he couldn’t show her. They reached the passenger side door, and he opened it for her. He didn’t help her up with a boost on her ass like he had last night. He kept his hands to himself. “In you go.”

She climbed in without a word, her silence louder than words could ever be. As he walked around the back of the truck, he dragged a hand through his hair. Then he slid into his seat and slammed the door shut, starting the engine and kicking it into reverse right away.

After he merged onto the road, he tapped his thumbs on the wheel. “Are you still living on campus?”

“No.” She crossed her arms and stared out the window. “I’m at Shadyside Apartments.”

That was in a suspicious part of town. Not fit for a girl like her. “Steven lets you live there?”

“Lets?” Her mouth pressed into a tight, angry line. “No one lets me do anything, thank you very much, least of all my brother.”

He stopped at the red light and held his hands up. “Fuck, sorry. All I know is my nuts were threatened if I even thought about touching you, so I figured he might be a pain in the ass as far as your living conditions go, too.”

“Well, he isn’t. And believe it or not, his opinions on who I date don’t matter to me, either. If he had it his way, I’d be a nun.”

Hell, Holt would, too. Because if he couldn’t have her, damn it, neither should anyone else. Logical? Nope. But he didn’t give a flying fuck. “I think that the sisterly way of life is highly underrated by modern society. If you were my little sister, I’d—”

She growled under her breath. “Don’t even think of going all older brother on me after last night. I will strip naked, right here, right now, to remind you who I am, and what we did. Don’t think I won’t.”

“Oh, believe me. I know exactly who you are.” He flexed his fingers on the wheel, his throat tightening on him. The image of her stripping for him was enough to make him forget all about pushing her away. But he had to do it. “And what we did, too.”

She glanced out the window, her shoulders stiff. “Whatever.”

They fell silent until they reached her complex. As he parked in front of her building, he searched the shadows. Nothing moved. “I’ll walk you in safely.”

“You don’t have to. I’ll be fine.”

“For the love of—” He broke off, rubbing his throbbing temple. “Jesus, Lydia. Do you have to fight every damn thing I say so fucking hard? I’m just trying to be a good guy, which is nothing less than I should do after what we did. I’ve made enough mistakes already where you’re concerned.”

She pressed her lips together and gripped the door handle. “Last night was nothing. People have one-night stands all the time. Especially you.”

With that, she opened the door, hopped down, and stormed off for the entrance. A headache was building behind his forehead, and he knew D-Day grew closer. Soon, he’d be in bed, incapacitated and useless. “Son of a fucking bitch,” he mumbled under his breath, opening his own door and going after her. “Wait just a second.”

“No,” she called over her shoulder. “Go home, Holt.”

He hurried his steps and easily caught up with her right outside her door. Reaching out, he grabbed her elbow. “Who told you that I had lots of one night stands? Steven?”

“You said it last night, several times. And even if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t need to.” She gestured toward him. “You’ve got the whole thing down to a science.”

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what it means,” she snapped, pulling free. “You bring girls home with you all the time, tell them how it’s one night only, and not to get attached. And I’m just another one of them, so stop making me into this horrible thing you did wrong in your life, and making me feel even worse than I already do.”

“Lydia, I—”

She held her hands up. “Look, I get it, okay? You regret touching me, and you don’t want to ever see me again. I was a mistake. A huge one. So move on, forget all about me, and go home. We don’t have to ever set eyes on one another again.”