But I never called her because girls like her are a dime a fucking dozen, and I don’t feel bad saying that because they do it to themselves. They throw themselves at us and cheapen their looks and soften their values and spread their legs because their only goals in life are to be baller wives.
Show me a girl who hates football and is crazy into me anyway, and I’ll marry her on the spot. I’ve yet to meet anyone like that. Haven’t even come close.
Not to mention, it’s impossible to respect a woman who has zero respect for herself.
“Carissa, you need to leave.” I fold my arms across my chest, jaw clenched.
“Is he serious?” Delilah points at me and laughs.
Carissa rises, moving my way and slipping her hand along my shoulder. “Always so dramatic, this one. It’s why I love him soooo much.”
Her declaration of love makes molten vomit rise in my throat, and her touch lingers intentionally.
“Go.” My command is a harsh growl. “Now.”
“Don’t be rude, Zane.” Delilah waves for Carissa to come back, and then she pats the seat beside her. “She can stay. Or better yet, I can leave so you two can catch up. Carissa said you two used to be close but you fell out of touch?”
I laugh under my breath. Leave it to Carissa to paint a picture that doesn’t make her look seven kinds of psychotic.
With a stern hand, I guide Carissa toward the door and walk her to the front steps, seeing to it, personally, that she’s on the outside of my fortress.
“Don’t ever pull that shit again,” I say when I pull the door closed.
Carissa pouts, her giant olive-green eyes framed by shiny jet-black hair. The woman is beautiful, no question, but all that crazy inside of her cancels out every last bit of it.
“Who is she, Zane?” There’s a wistfulness in her tone that doesn’t belong there, and she stares at me like I’m the best thing in the world. Her fixation with me is mind-boggling, but I stopped trying to understand it years ago. Nothing about Carissa has ever made much sense.
She’s nothing more than a spoiled princess who never learned the definition of “no.”
“None of your concern,” I spit.
Her bittersweet expression morphs into something darker, and she stomps her foot. She knows damn well the kind of hold she has over me, and I know damn well she’s not afraid to use it.
Her father is the sole owner of the Gainesville Cougars. Declaring that his precious baby girl is a crazy stalker would be career suicide, and admitting it publicly would do nothing but make me the laughingstock of the locker room.
“She’s staying with family here,” I say. “For the summer.”
“Jesus, Zane.” Her hand lifts to her heart. “You’re already fucking her, aren’t you?”
“No.”
“You want to.”
“My personal life is none of your business, Carissa,” I say. “And for the record, Delilah hates me, so don’t get your panties in a bunch over something that’s probably not going to happen anyway.”
There. Hopefully that’ll make her back off. The last thing I need is her terrorizing Rue’s niece, involving her in this craziness.
Carissa laughs, crossing her lanky arms beneath her fake tits. “You’re not that dense, are you? She brought you cookies. Don’t be a moron. She’s totally down to fuck.”
“Anyway, I think we’re done here, so . . .” I shoo her away, glancing over her shoulder at the parked Audi in the street.
“Zane.” She sighs, reaching for me, but I jerk my arm away. “It’s not fair for you to hate me so much.”
I refuse to engage in this bullshit stall tactic of hers another minute.
“Do I need to file the restraining order?” I know my threat is empty, but it’s the only card I have left to play.
“You would never.” She calls my bluff in two seconds flat.
“I will if I have to.” I take a step closer, leering down, which elicits a smile from her. And maybe I shouldn’t. It’s like giving a temper-tantrum-throwing toddler attention. I’m rewarding her for bad behavior. But she needs to hear me one last time. She needs to listen up. “You’ve been doing good, Carissa. You’ve been staying away, keeping your distance like I asked. Why’d you come here today?”
She brushes a strand of dark hair over her shoulder and licks her curling lips. “I already told you. I was driving by and saw you coming in here with a girl. I was curious. Can’t blame me for wanting to check out my replacement.”
“You weren’t replaced, Carissa. I never had you. I never wanted you. You were never mine to replace.”