"What's wrong with this?" I ask. "I'll wear whatever I damn well want to."
"You might as well be naked," he says, just like he did before. He leans forward, his hands on the roof of the car above me, and I inhale sharply at how close he is to me. And at the way he says naked, like that's exactly what he wants. I can't take my eyes off his lips. I want to feel them against me. "I'd rather you were naked."
I raise my eyebrows, my throat pounding loudly in my chest. "I thought you didn't approve of this dress."
Hendrix leans forward, his mouth close to my ear. He runs his hand slowly up my thigh. "I said, I would rather you were naked. But I approve of the dress," he says. "Only because I know you wore it to get a rise out of me."
"I wore it for myself," I lie. "You're delusional."
He doesn't take his eyes off me as he reaches between my legs. And I don't stop him. "You're wearing panties, which is unfortunate," he notes. But you're wet. Just admit that tonight was all about getting a reaction from me, Addison."
I shrug, trying to be nonchalant when my heart is about to beat out of my freaking chest.
"Okay, have it your way. Get in the car," he orders, his voice gruff. I stand there stupidly for a moment, a hot mess of desire and need that overtakes my ability to even form a rational thought, and then Hendrix pulls away from me and opens the car door, ushering me inside.
On the short drive home, he's silent, and I wonder for a moment if what happened between us again really happened, or if it's just a figment of my imagination, some kind of late night delusion. But as soon as we step inside the apartment, Hendrix has me by my arms and presses me up against the wall, his hand running up my thigh. "Admit it," Hendrix says softly.
"It's all about you, Hendrix," I say sarcastically. But that's actually the truth. It is all about him, isn't it?
"It is all about me, Addy-girl," he says. "It's all about you and me. Always has been."
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Hendrix
THREE YEARS AGO
If I thought I could walk away from Addy, that seven thousand miles of ocean would be enough to put emotional distance between us, I was more than fucking wrong.
"You're such a jackass, Hendrix Cole." The blonde screams at me, her voice shrill, as she puts one leg and then another back into her pants.
"You knew that when you met me." I open my mouth to say her name and realize I don't remember it. I'm disgusted with her; in the early morning light she no longer looks like the person I thought she bore a more-than-striking resemblance to last night in the bar, with her long blonde hair and blue eyes.
"Oh, and thanks for nothing!" she yells. "The legendary Cannon Cole couldn't even fucking get it up!"
When she leaves, the front door slamming loudly behind her, I roll back over in bed, thinking about Addy. Always Addy. I'm on the other side of the world, and all I can think about is Addy. Her face is burned on my brain. That's why I couldn't get it up for the bottle-blonde bimbo that just fled my house. The blonde wasn't Addy.
When I can't go back to sleep, I sit up in bed with a notepad, writing the letter to Addy I'll never send, the one that tells her how I can't get her out of my head, that tells her how I can't keep going without her.
I write it and I think about mailing it. But I'm too much of a goddamned coward. I'm a United States Marine. I completed The Crucible, fifty-four hours of some of the most difficult training on earth. And Addy fucking Stone is the thing that brings me to my knees.
* * *
PRESENT DAY
I walk away from her because I can't think straight when I'm this close to her. I just came dangerously close to telling her that her angry rebellious act is just that -- an act. I came close to telling her that I know she feels the same way I do about her.
And how I feel about her.
I'm annoyed with her immature games. Who plays stupid games like that, anyway?
From the other room, Addy shrieks loudly.
Maybe I'm not that mature anyway.
She bursts into my room. "Someone broke into the apartment and took all of my clothes!"
I stand there, waiting for her to put two and two together when she sees my not-so-shocked face.
"You?!" she shrieks. "Hendrix, that is not funny. Go and get them now. Put them back."
"Are you ordering me around, as your employee?" I ask. I'm a petty asshole. I never pretended to be mature and self-aware.
Her nostrils flare. Holy hell, I've never seen her nostrils flare like this before. She's adorable when she's angry, standing there in that little dress that barely covers her ass. Too bad she has nothing else to wear. "Hendrix fucking Cole," she says. "I have nothing but bras and panties in there. Where are my clothes?"