Make Me (Sterling Shore Series #10)(11)

Yeah. Yeah. Told you I could be crass.

Just wait until you witness my sass.

It's there. I promise. Somewhere under the goofy girl with a crush she shouldn't have.

"No," I say, shaking my head.

"No?" he asks. I can clearly see the disappointment in his eyes, and it makes me smile like an idiot. Again.

"I mean no; I don't have a car here. I had a driver bring me. I was supposed to call him when I was ready to be retrieved."

His smile returns. "Good. Then you can call and tell him I've got you covered."

His fingers thread through mine, and a shot of adrenaline courses through me as the warmth of his skin against mine spreads throughout my body. My red dress catches the attention of everyone as we head toward the front.

I feel myself flushing all over as he continues to hold my hand like it's the most natural thing in all the world.

"Bathroom," I blurt out as we near the massive lobby, needing a reprieve from the physical contact.

A few pairs of eyes swing in our direction,

Dale grins down at me, having a lot more height than I do, since I opted for a small heel tonight.

"It's right there," he says, gesturing with his head as he lets go of my hand. "I'll wait here."

The second I lose contact, I already miss it. I'm not sure what is happening to me, but it needs to stop. I'm not acting like the new me. I'm acting like the old me who is one heartbeat away from doodling his name in my notebooks all over again.

Stage-five clinger alert right here, ladies and gentlemen.

Now to calm down before I go and make a bigger idiot out of myself. 





Chapter 13



HARLEY



I dart into the bathroom, wondering how this night turned into this. I was supposed to hear his apology. Look damn good. Walk out of here like a champion as he watched my ass the entire way.

That was the goal.

Now I'm going back to his house?

How did this happen?

And I never heard an apology.

I excuse my decision to go to his house by telling myself it's because I still haven't heard the apology. Again, don't freaking judge me. Think of that one guy …

That one guy you always wanted. That one guy who was so far out of your league that the game never worked out in your favor.

That one guy is now suddenly inviting you to his house. He's looking at you with every ounce of wanton desire you always fantasized about.

What do you do?

Yeah. That's what I thought.

Great. Now I'm talking to myself.

I wash my hands, letting the chilly water run over my wrists to cool me down. Ever been in a high school bathroom? Yeah, that's every women's restroom in a town where you know people. Not just high school.

You always run into someone you know, and they act like it's still high school when they see you.

As soon as the door opens, my eyes dart in the direction, seeing a familiar face. Tasha Landcaster. Of all the people.

Inwardly I groan as I straighten, and she startles, studying me.

"I know you," she says, tilting her head. "Harley Hayden."

How does she know me? I'm supposed to look different enough nowadays.

"I know you do," I say with a bitter smile as I dry off my hands.

She smirks as she approaches the sink, and I keep my mouth shut as I check my reflection in the mirror. She's maybe a size two, and next to my size twelve, our differences couldn't be more startling.

She eyes my dress, scoffing something under her breath about whales and spandex.

"Nice to see you back in town," she says without an ounce of sincerity, acting as though she wasn't just muttering something spiteful.

"Nice to be back," I say just as blandly.

She walks out before I do, and I grip the edge of the sink, still staring at myself. She was amongst the ones who tied me to that damn pole. That moment still haunts my nightmares.

But it doesn't bother me like it used to. She's nothing more than someone's little side piece. A sixty-year-old man who looks closer to eighty. He's sure as hell not some silver fox.

I only know that because Vivica shared that juicy morsel with me. She deliberately withheld any information about anyone else from this town if they were doing awesome.

Hence the reason I pay her so much.

She knows what people do and don't want to hear about others from their past. Especially a past like mine.

Taking a deep breath, I head back out, and stumble to a halt when I see Tasha standing with her short, pudgy, balding husband and talking to Dale.

Dale is all smiles.

Why does that feel like a betrayal?

Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I debate on just leaving and calling George, or joining Dale like it's my right. I don't have long to deliberate.

"Harley," Dale says, smiling over at me when he sees me.

For a brief moment, I feel like a deer caught in headlights when Tasha's surprised gaze swings back to me.

Dale looks between us, his smile slowly fading. Something crosses his eyes as I plaster on the ever-cool face of Harley Hayden-CEO and badass.

As I move to his side, I'm careful not to touch him, but his arm snakes around my waist. I'm not sure how he does it, but he makes me feel small next to his larger, more muscular frame as he draws me close.



       
         
       
        

I let him.

Because … well, it's Dale Sterling and I'm still struggling to get my head out of the past.

And because Tasha's jaw is hanging low.

Very low. Like embarrassing for her.

"Trying to catch flies?" I muse, smirking at her.

Her jaw claps shut for only a second before she gestures between us.

"You two?" she asks, clearly stunned.

Before I can respond, Dale beats me to it. "Date night. Just finished dinner and we're on our way out." His gaze darts to her husband. "I'll have my assistant get in touch with your assistant," he says to him.

"That would be greatly appreciated," the man says, sounding closer to one hundred now.

He's so short that he practically has his neck craned all the way back to stare up into Dale's eyes.

"Have a nice evening," he tells them dismissively before guiding me toward the door.

I don't even toss Tasha another glance as we start heading out. She's as stunning as she ever was. I don't understand why she went for a guy she clearly has no attraction to.

Sterling Shore is loaded with elegant, attractive bachelors, most of whom come from old money.

I expect Dale's arm to fall away from me the second we're outside, but he keeps me pressed against him, his fingers digging into my side as he sends the valet after his car.

"Sorry about that," he says sincerely as he turns to face me. "I didn't know you two had issues, or I wouldn't have stopped to talk to them."

"It's not like I didn't expect to run into people I hate," I say with a forced smile, but the bitterness in my tone is clear, despite my failed attempt at masking it.

My heart is still a little gooey from the fact he wrapped his arm around me like he's my guy, instead of a guy who just took me out tonight to apologize. It was one of those moments in life I can truly enjoy, because the look on Tasha's face was worth it.

He acts like he's going to say something, but then decides against it.

"What?" I prompt as others come to wait outside for their own vehicles.

He doesn't get the chance to answer as a pristine Phantom drives up. Talk about sexy men in sexy cars. It's definitely a Dale Sterling car.

The valet opens my door for me, and another holds the door open for Dale. We get in at the same time, and Dale whisks us away.

The entire car smells like him. Fresh. Sexy. Expensive.

He drives us through the streets, his blazer brushing my arm as he props up on the center console.

I don't move. I try to act like it's perfectly fine we're touching again. 

"If you're setting up your headquarters in Sterling Shore, does that mean you're staying for good?" he asks, as though it's the most causal conversation in the world.

"That's the plan," I state uncomfortably.

"Why?" he asks, surprising me.

My brow furrows as I turn to face him, eyeing his profile as he keeps his attention trained on the street.

"Why what?" I ask.

"I assume you left Sterling Shore because of all that shit that happened to you after … " He clears his throat. "After prom. Why come back to this place?" he asks, never glancing at me.

It gives me a chance to admire him without him noticing. "I didn't leave Sterling Shore because of all that. My father moved us. Long story. The two weren't related. As for returning …  Do you want the truth?"

His jaw seems to bounce along the edge in a subtle tic.

"The truth would be greatly appreciated," he says, his tone flat and devoid of emotion.

I guess speaking of the past has him feeling surly. Not sure why. I was the one tormented. Not him.

"The truth is that I returned for redemption. Maybe I even want to shove my success down a few throats. Cliché or not, it feels nice to no longer be on the bottoms of peoples' shoes."

I turn back to stare at the road, deciding that's too much information to be sharing.

His breath gets shaky.

"That's the only reason you're back?"

I shrug. "That's the only reasons I'm telling you freely. I guess you'll have to work for more."

What? What was that? That was me being me. That's right. Uh-huh. My sass is back!

Woot!

A smile curves my lips when he clears his throat. "Is that so?" he deadpans.