Page 25 of Those Heartbreak Scars

“That makes sense.” She stands and picks up the plate with half a Danish still on it. “But I think you’re worrying too much. Sure, I was offended, but that’s because we were meant to be friends. And friends don’t speak shit about each other behind their backs like that. I’m with Everett anyway.”

“After we…?” Everything I’ve read up on the man says he’s quick to jump into relationships and faster out of them. I’m not good for her, but neither is he. “You’re kidding, right? Does he know?”

“He sprung the girlfriend label on me at dinner. We’re not there yet. We talked about it. In bed. Last night. And decided to keep taking it slow.”

They fucked last night. I gnash my teeth as the reel of images I’d imagined solidifies. “You slept tog—?”

“So no, I didn’t tell him that I fucked you during the main course.” She juts out her chin, turns her back on me, and storms behind the counter before disappearing into the back room.

“You keep screwing up with her,” I mutter to myself as I shove my chair back.

Chapter Ten

America

Why does he have to be so damn infuriating? I storm out through the employee entrance. Icy rain penetrates my uniform before I can get my jacket on and flip up the hood, but it barely cools my anger. We used to get along fine, now every other word out of his mouth makes me angry.

I didn’t mean to lose it inside. Telling Gray that I was with Everett last night was only the tiniest of trivial lies. We’re taking a few days to think. Well, I am. He’s still all in. Because I didn’t tell him a damn thing about what’s really going on with me.

I didn’t tell him I fucked Gray in the bathroom last night. What would be the point? But telling Gray I took Everett to bed last night, that was purely malicious. He doesn’t mean to hurt me every time he opens his mouth. I have ten good years of knowing him that says he doesn’t. But it stings all the same.

It hurts that I can’t shake these feelings I harbor for him while he can’t get over my best friend. I pick up an empty coffee tin and scream as I hurl it at the wall just as Gray steps into view.

“Fuck.” He ducks, narrowly missing being hit by the flying missile. “America. Christ. Are you trying to injure me?”

“Leave me alone, Gray.” I pace with bouncy, jerky steps back and forth across the pavement as the can rattles and rolls over the uneven ground until it hits a trash can. Arms wrapped around myself, I bury my fists in my armpits. If I have to hear one more thing about how he wants to protect our friendship… “Go away. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Can’t do that.” He storms over and grabs my waist, hauling me out of the rain and under an overhang.

“Let me go.” I punch his chest. Then let go of a flurry of small blows that seem to bounce off him without any kind of reaction.

Except to make him breathe harder, faster as he backs me up against the bricks. He holds me there with a hand around my throat that has my pussy clenching so hard I cry out.

He licks his lips, and then they’re crashing against mine. He thrusts his tongue inside my mouth and swallows my whimpers. “Why can’t we be friends like we used to be?”

“Why can’t you leave me alone?” I surge forward and kiss him back.

“Why did you have to fucking sleep with that tool?” He hikes up my skirt and takes a hold of my panties.

“That tool is about to be your new client,” I toss back at him. “And soon to be my boyfriend.”

Yet here I am, eagerly falling into whatever this is with Gray. Unable to stop even though I know I should.

“Bullshit.”

I yelp when he yanks my panties clean off me.

It stings for all of a second while he holds them in his hands with a look in his eyes that says I’m in for it now. “No, he’s not your boyfriend, Rica.”

His words make my heart race like crazy, my clit throb. I never knew this side of him existed, or that I would want to play with it so bad. “What are you going to do with those?”

“Open your mouth for me,” he orders.

I open for him.

He wads up the lace and places it between my teeth. “Bite.”

I slam my teeth down hard enough that he jerks his hand back. His expression turns filthy, his gaze burns hotter. He unbuttons his tan chinos and takes out his cock. Those big hands grab my ass and haul me up, my protest—not really a protest at all—muffled by my own panties when he enters me hard.

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