Spinning Out(The Blackhawk Boy #1)(28)

"Only when you touch me." Her nails bite into the back of my neck, and  her sex squeezes tight around my finger. She arches her back and sinks  her teeth into her bottom lip, and I can only watch in awe as she comes.

Beautiful isn't the word. It's grown too weak with overuse. Mia is  something greater than that. Bigger. Brighter. More important.

I remove my hand from between her legs and swallow hard as I back away.  She opens her eyes and brings her fingertips to her mouth. Because I  didn't kiss her there? Because she wishes I did? Or because she said  something she wishes she hadn't?

"I need this job," she whispers. Her big brown eyes sparkle with tears.

"No, you don't. Quit, Mia. I have money. I'll pay whatever my father's paying you."

"Would it be worth it? Just to get me away from you?"

"It would be worth it to make you stop hiding from your life. You didn't  die with your brother. You aren't brain-dead like Brogan. Stop acting  like you lost your life that night. You don't have to live in this  purgatory you've created for yourself."

"Me?" Her eyes go big. Too big. Angry. Outraged. "Look who's talking,  Arrow. You had everything, and you threw every bit of it away so you  didn't have to face the pain of living your life without Brogan by your  side. I know you feel responsible because of what happened between us,  but I was the one who decided to tell him. I was the one who broke up  with him. I was the one who texted my brother when Brogan wouldn't let  me out of the car."

I squeeze my eyes shut. It's easier to think of Brogan as a saint who  was wronged than a jealous man holding Mia hostage and demanding her  heart as ransom.

When I open my eyes, Mia's brimming tears finally spill over and course  in rivulets down her cheeks. "Maybe I'm living in purgatory," she says,  "but that's only because I deserve worse."

Mia blaming herself for my crime is buckshot to the soul. "Don't say  that." I thread my fingers into her hair and cup her jaw. Maybe if I can  hold her together, I won't fall apart. And the fact that I even care  about myself is a revelation. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"Didn't I?" She reaches up and wraps her fingers around my wrist. "Thank  you for not blaming me. But if you want to help me forgive myself, you  have to stop being a casualty of that night. Seeing your life fall apart  too is nothing more than another punishment for me."                       
       
           



       

"Don't let it be. You were never the one I was trying to punish." I  close my mouth and swallow back words before more can rush out. I've  said too much already.

Releasing my wrist, she lifts her hand to my face, tracing the edge of  my jaw, then my lips. Even after what I just did to her-especially after  that-the touch feels like the most intimate one we've exchanged. I turn  my face into her hand and press a kiss to the center of her palm.

"I don't understand what you want," she says. "You send me away and then you come in here and touch me."

"I don't want to be your mistake." I don't know if I'm talking about  tonight or last October, or maybe there's no difference. She said she  doesn't regret October, but tonight . . .?

She opens her mouth as if she wants to reply, but then she stops  herself, darts her tongue out to wet her lips. I need to taste her  there. It's as much a choice as taking the next breath.

I lower my head to kiss her, and she draws in a soft breath, sways into  me. Just before our lips brush, I hear footsteps and pull away.

"Whoa," Trent says. I spin around, and it's evident on his face that he  saw us. He clears his throat and holds up his hands. "Listen, man, I'm  not judging. I mean, it's not like Brog is dead yet or anything, but go  ahead, help yourself to his woman."

"Fuck," I mutter. This was careless. Foolish. Trent's words were  intended to hurt, but they dug into all my open wounds even more than he  could know.

I start after him, but Mia stops me with a hand on my arm. "Don't." Her  eyes are wide. Is she upset we were discovered, or that I touched her at  all? "There's nothing you can say."





I can't look out back when the guys are all here. It hurts to see them  cruising along with their lives. I know tragedies happen and the world  keeps turning, or at least I know intellectually, but seeing it  firsthand is a hot iron poking at my grief. It seems like there's always  someone from the team here now that school's out.

Then there's Arrow, watching me when he thinks I won't notice. Tiptoeing  around me since that night a week ago when he slid his hand up my skirt  and made me feel things I didn't believe my body could feel anymore.

I'm not sure if I'm supposed to feel guilty or satisfied or pissed at  him for not explaining what it means. He didn't even kiss you, Mia.

I'll get these dishes done and spend the day upstairs. It's better that  way. I remind them of Brogan, and judging by the laughter coming from  around the pool, they don't want to think about him today.

"Mia." I turn from the sink at the sound of Sebastian's voice. He closes  the patio doors behind him and comes into the kitchen and around the  island. "How are you?"

"I'm fine."

He tucks his hands into his pockets. "I've been wanting to talk to you about something."

Tensing, I put the dishrag down. "Is my dad okay?"

"You think I'm only going to talk to you if your dad needs something?"

"Of course not. I-" I shake my head. "What do you need?"

I spin around, but with him on this side of the island, my turn puts us  uncomfortably close. He leans against the thick slab of granite, legs  wide and leaving me almost standing between them.

"Do they ever give you a night off?"

"Sure," I say. "I'm not a slave, and contrary to what my dad may have told you, Uriah is actually a very good employer."

His lips twitch. "Good to know. So does that mean you're free to join me  for dinner some night? Maybe a movie? It's gotta get old hanging around  this place all the time."

"Um." I dry my hands on my apron. I'm stalling. Sebastian is incredibly  handsome, and this was what Bailey was talking about, wasn't it? She  said I've been letting life pass me by, and I feel like if she were  here, she'd be jumping up and down, nodding. She'd also probably make a  few inappropriate sexual innuendos about what could happen at the  movies. "It's just that . . ." I drop my gaze to my hands, now wringing  the apron.

"Isn't this cozy," Arrow mutters.

When I swing around to the sound of his voice, I stumble forward.  Sebastian catches me. After I right myself, he doesn't bother to take  away the arm around my waist.

"Hey, Woodison," Sebastian says, unfazed as I step out of his embrace.  "Thanks for inviting me. I was looking for an excuse to see Mia again."

I shoot Sebastian a warning glare, and he meets it with a smile.                       
       
           



       

Arrow's gaze ping-pongs between me and Sebastian. Emotions I can't  identify flicker through his eyes, and I wait for him to say something  nasty-about me or Sebastian, I'm not sure-but instead he gives a sharp  nod, turns on his heel, and goes out back.

He had his hand up my skirt a week ago, and he just walked away at the sight of another man holding me.

"So that movie?" Sebastian sidesteps around the island. I have to give  him credit for understanding that giving me space increases his odds  here.

"I don't think so." I flick my gaze up to peek at his expression but  find myself drawn in by his dark eyes. It's not as easy to look away as  I'd like. "I'm just not ready."

"And is that because of Brogan?" He lifts his chin and points his gaze out the window behind me. "Or because of Arrow?"

I stiffen. "Don't act like you know me. You don't."

"No, Mia. I just want to. And when this world is full of people who want  to take advantage of us more than they want to know us, I like to think  that's a good thing." When I don't reply, he sighs, fishes in the  pocket of his low-slung jeans, and comes up with a folded slip of paper.  "Here."

I take it from his hands and frown. "What's this?"

"It's a list of everyone who had body work done on an SUV this winter.  We're not the only place in town, so it's only a small piece of the  puzzle, and you can't tell anyone I gave that to you, but I hope it  helps."

I unfold the paper and scan the list. "Coach Wright's here."

Sebastian shakes his head. "Yeah, I worked on that one myself. Not what  you're looking for. He hit a doe coming out of his driveway."

"Okay." I press the paper to my chest. "Thank you. This means a lot."