I was wrong when I thought my wakeup call would come in the form of a pinch. No, my huge dose of reality feels like a bucket of ice water being dumped on me.
How could I have been so stupid? I should have snuck out of his bed first thing. He made it so clear to me last night that he wasn’t interested. I could blame the fact that I spent the night pressed against his hard body as my excuse for why I practically molested him, but it’s not the truth.
I wanted him.
No. I want him.
“I’m sorry,” I stammer. “I shouldn’t have…”
My words are cut short when Hutch sweeps his arm across the top of the dresser, sending everything crashing against the wall and to the floor. Without hesitation I jump out of the bed and I’m securely behind my own door before I can piss him off any more than I already have.
Tears are already welling in my eyes and my lungs burn with the need to release the sob that I’m holding back.
What was I thinking? If the man who claimed he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me found me lacking, even after I changed everything to please him, then a man like Hutch would never, ever want me.
With that thought the dam breaks and tears fall freely. Even though I felt drawn here, I never should have come. I wasn’t prepared for any of this. I came to lick my wounds and regroup, not fall into lust with my brother’s best friend overnight. How ridiculous am I? My decision to stop my pity party last night was obviously premature. I can give myself another day or ten. Hell, at this rate I'll just chug down that curdled milk and wait for a refill.
Completely lost in my own misery, I don’t hear the door open or Hutch crossing the room to me. I’m completely oblivious until I find myself surrounded by his strong arms and my head cradled to his chest. The fact that I’m once again crying in his arms has another sob ripping through me. Stupid fucking tears.
“I’m sorry, Kitten. Don’t cry.” His voice is pleading and laced with pain.
I take a fortifying breath and pull away from him. I find myself instantly missing the comforting strength of his hold, but at the same time, I’m desperate for distance. I’m just not equipped to handle his closeness right now. If I were to go with my instincts and throw myself into his arms and lose myself, I don’t think I’ll be able to survive another rejection from him.
Shane was a huge hit, but just one day without him and I already recognize how wrong we were for each other. How toxic our relationship actually was. I can easily move on from that douche, but Hutch is a whole different beast.
I wipe my tears away, meet his troubled gaze and lie. “It’s okay, Hutch. No worries.”
“No, really it’s not okay. I shouldn’t have touched you.”
I cut him off before he can slice into me with more rejection. “Look, it’s fine, really. If you don’t mind, could you drive me into town? I’ll tell the rental agency where they can pick up their piece of shit car, hop on the next plane home, and be out of your hair.”
The shocked look on his face is almost humorous, but the hurt look in his eyes makes me pause. I’m too raw to ponder on it, though. I grab a pair of cut-offs from the dresser and send a silent prayer that they will fit over my ass. What I wouldn’t give to have had the foresight to pack a damned bag, I’ll have to better prepare for the next time I catch my best friend and my fiancé fucking in my bed.
“You don’t have to leave, Blake.”
I simply shrug. Apparently, it’s the wrong move, though. The next thing I know I’m being pulled back into his arms. When I try to pull away, his arms tighten around me and he tangles his hand in my hair, pulling lightly until my face is tilted up to his. My entire being is begging for his lips, desperate for him to set me free from this horrible self-doubt. I hate myself for craving his approval. History has dictated that it's the first step to losing my identity. Then again, since I haven't figured out who I am without Shane's influence yet, maybe Hutch can help me figure it out. Which is a completely dangerous thought to have about a man. Especially one that doesn't want me.
Hutch inches closer to me, his lips a mere hairbreadth from mine. My heart is pounding in my chest and my nipples pebbling against my shirt. Lust thrums through my veins, spreading like a wildfire.
“Stay.” A command, not a question.
“What’s the point? Why stay when it’s obvious that you don’t want me?” Even to my own ears I sound defeated, pathetic. Buck the fuck up, Blake. “Just… just take me to town. Please.”
“You think I don’t want you, Kitten?” He growls into my ear, fingers tightening in my hair as he scrapes his stubble across my neck and nips my tender flesh. “All I’ve been able to think about is getting inside that tight little pussy of yours.”