“You look…perky today.” And I’m not talking about her bright pink top or her even brighter pink lipstick. This is the most well-rested I’ve seen Heidi since we met up in New Orleans a week ago.
Apparently, rooming with Cal is good for her.
“Sleep is your friend,” she says.
I roll my eyes up toward the ceiling. “Thanks for the pointer, Lucas.”
“I’m going out for breakfast,” she announces. When I give her a blatantly unexpressive look, she clenches her teeth into a pleading smile. “You’re hungry, right?”
Actually, I’m starving, but I’m tired, too. I spent fourteen hours inside of the Suburban yesterday. Not to mention, most of the night was spent with Wyatt inside me. I should sleep. I should turn her down and take my ass right back to that amazing memory foam mattress and the naked man currently lying on it.
But then my stomach makes a noise, and Heidi nods her head slowly, her brown waves swooshing back and forth over her face. “There’s a place next door. Just go throw on some pants, and we can walk over.”
Groaning, I glance down at the Motionless In White band tee I threw on just before I answered the door. I’m braless and pantyless, and there’s no way I’m leaving my room without a shower. “Give me twenty, okay?”
“Any longer and I’ll leave your ass,” she warns as she heads toward the elevator.
I don’t buy that for a second. I take as many shortcuts as possible to get dressed, including a shower that’s so quick I’m not sure the pipes had time to heat up to their full potential. As I drag another band tee over my head—the colorful Three Days Grace shirt that’s by far one of my favorites—Wyatt wakes up.
He sits up in bed and watches me intensely, his vivid blue eyes following my every movement. As I adjust my thong, he releases a string of curse words. “Get back in bed, Kylie.”
I give him a pointed look and shake my head. “You’d think you’ve never watched a woman get dressed.” The instant the words tumble from my lips, I regret them. Wyatt has watched plenty of women, including myself, get dressed. Dropping my gaze to the carpet, I run my tongue over my lips. “I’ve got to say, you’re freaking me out with all the staring, McCrae.”
“Because I want to wrap that fucking thong around your wrists and keep you here with me.”
Despite the harshness of his words, his voice is tender, and I’m a little shaky as I squat down to poke my legs into a pair of ripped-up jeans. As I stand and button them, pleased that this pair actually fits without cutting into my girlie parts, I slide my bare feet into a pair of pink Chuck Taylors.
“Where are you headed?” he asks.
“Breakfast with Heidi.”
He makes a sleepy noise and stretches his arms over his head. The sheets pool around his waist, dropping to show off his tan, muscular V. “I want you for breakfast.”
My mouth goes dry because I want him too, but I turn away from him as I gather my hair into a short ponytail on top of my head. I’ve composed myself by the time I face him again. Leaning my butt against the cherry wood TV stand, I cock my head to the side. “You’ll be here when I come back?” There’s a hopeful edge to my voice, but what’s surprising is the way the question comes out so easily. Then, I realize that for the first time, this screwed-up thing between us seems like a real relationship.
“No.” He shakes his head, and his full lips draw down into a frown. “Setting up with Hazard Anthem and running through the set. Then, I’ve got a few more things to take care of. Won’t be back until right before it’s time to get you tonight.”
I try not to think about if Terra will be there, considering her late-night party invitation. “Okay, well, I’ll text you if I need anything,” I say. When he cocks an eyebrow suggestively, I groan. “That’s all you think about.”
“Your ass is too good not to.”
I’m still feeling the effect of his words as I sprint down the stairs to the lobby.
Once Heidi sees me, she pops up from her chair and meets me halfway. “What took you so long?” She looks me up and down, examining everything from my clothes to my messy hairstyle, before she cocks an eyebrow.
“What the hell is wrong with me?” I ask breathlessly. When she shrugs, I release a frustrated moan. “It’s Wyatt. He touches me or talks to me, and I’m a total wreck.”
“Yikes, I thought we weren’t supposed to touch the subject of Wyatt touching you with a giant pole,” she reminds me, her voice lowered to a whisper. As we take the revolving door to the outside of the hotel, she glances over to me. “Something’s happened since yesterday morning.”
“I’m batshit insane.”
“He wants a second chance?” She points her finger to the right toward the restaurant next door. As we walk across the hotel parking lot, she asks another question before I have the chance to answer the first. “And you’re seriously thinking about it?” Heidi’s soft voice is full of amazement.
I slide my hands up the front of my jeans, wiping off the perspiration from my palms. “He doesn’t want to give me up.”
“Because he’s not stupid, Kylie,” she says as I hold open the restaurant door for her. She dashes inside and then smiles at the hostess, holding up two fingers. Lowering her voice as we follow the woman to our table, Heidi says, “He’ll fight for you, but if you decide you don’t want to be with him, what then?”
I wait until we’re alone to answer her. “If I’m happy, he won’t pursue me.”
Her pink lips press into a thin line, and I know she’s calling bullshit. “Did he tell you that?” When I nod, she shakes her head. “Do you think that’ll actually happen? He’s addicted to you.”
Our waiter, a skinny guy with tattooed wrists peeking out from his long-sleeved button-up, stops by our table to take our order. I point to a random spot on the menu that turns out to be the western omelet. I barely even notice the way the waiter’s eyes scan over me as he takes our menus and promises to return shortly with our drinks.
Heidi sighs. “And you’re obviously too addicted to him to notice anyone else.”
I trace back and forth over the corner of the napkin wrapped around the silverware, my finger skimming the prongs of the fork. There’s no point in denying what she has just pointed out now and so many other times before. I’m addicted to Wyatt on so many levels that it’s apparent to anyone who sees us together and who knows what we’re like apart.
We hurt each other.
Then, we mend ourselves.
And then, we do it all over again, only more violently.
Wyatt and I are our worst enablers. We always have been. If I didn’t go to New Orleans, I probably would have been fine. If I had gone to him instead, this wouldn’t be a conflict.
But I didn’t go to him. I didn’t meet him halfway.
He came to me—something he’s only done a handful of times since we had started this twisted thing.
Our waiter returns to the table, and a dimpled grin slides easily over his features as he sets my orange juice down in front of me. “Need anything else?” he asks.
Heidi covers her mouth and coughs.
I ignore her. “Thanks, but I’m good.”
He asks Heidi the same but with a little less enthusiasm, and when he leaves, she eye-humps him until he turns the corner. “I swear, Kylie, you’re like sex on a—”
Chevelle blasts loudly from the inside of my pocket. I scramble to grab my phone as several people around us turn in our direction, their eyebrows gathering together at the noise. Pressing my thumb to the button on the side of the iPhone, I manage to silence it. I flip the phone over and wrinkle up my nose when I see Unknown flash on the screen.
“It might be Officer Townsend calling about our stuff.” I stand up, and Heidi bobs her head enthusiastically as if she truly believes that all our belongings have been recovered and aren’t currently in a New Orleans pawnshop. “Be right back,” I promise, leaving her at our table.
I accept the call, but I wait until I dart out of the front double doors to say hello.
“I’m trying to reach Lucas Wolfe,” a crisp female voice says.
If someone is calling this number for my brother, it’s no doubt a business call. I turn on my professional voice, smiling widely to sound more pleasant. “This is his assistant, Kylie. I’d be more than happy to help you.” As I pace back and forth in front of the bench that’s beside the cigarette receptacle, I hear the sound of the woman’s fingers rapidly flying over a keyboard. A moment later, she asks me to verify the last four digits of both my and Lucas’s social security numbers. Once I do so, she tells me who she is—a representative from his business banking account.
And then, she delivers news that I just know is going to bite me in the ass.
“Due to the most recent transaction, Mr. Wolfe’s checking account is currently overdrawn by $1,347. Would you like to transfer money from one of his other accounts to cover the overdraft?”
Chapter Twelve
“It’s going to be alright,” Heidi reassures me twenty minutes later as we hurry through the door of the room she and Cal are sharing. She’s been telling me the same thing since I sat back down for breakfast. Each time, she gives me her soothing voice that I’m sure she uses on her phone sex customers. Still, I only manage to down half of my western omelet before my stomach starts to pitch violently.