Page 11 of The Deals We Make
“You’re a long way from California.” It takes all I have to not draw my knuckle down her cheek, to see if she’ll turn her face into my touch. Which is wild, because I never had the urge to caress my former best friend’s face when we were in high school.
She bites down on her lip, but her eyes follow my tongue as I run it over my own lower lip. The traffic slows, the chatter of people quiets, and snow falls in between us.
Finally, her eyes shift to my cut, to my patch with the road name Vex, and she flinches. I see a flicker of something akin to fear or disgust dust her expression. “If there were a state farther away from you that wasn’t north of the forty-second parallel, I would have moved there.”
The barb stings. My heart thuds heavily in my chest at the sight of Calista. I still have my hands on her; she hasn’t moved. “Hawaii no longer a state?”
“Fine. If there were a state farther away from you that wasn’t north of the forty-second parallel or an island, I would have moved there.”
“What are you doing in New York?” I ask.
“We’re not doing this,” she says. “We aren’t friends. I have nothing to say to you.”
“Are you okay, miss?” It’s the security guard from inside the building. His hand drops to his Taser.
I shift, ready to defend myself if I have to.
Sensing my movement, Calista steps out of my arms and raises them in surrender to the guard. “I’m fine. He’s a friend.”
The guard stares at me. Hard.
I stare back because I’m a mean motherfucker who doesn’t like the idea that I was about to be Tased for stopping a woman from falling.
When he steps back inside, Calista turns to me. Her cheeks are pink, but her eyes are hardened.
“You said we weren’t friends,” I say. “Then, you told the guard we are. So, what are we, Cal?”
“Don’t call me that. We’re nothing. Old history, at best.”
I huff, a small puff of white escaping with my breath. I hold her chin, forcing her to meet my eyes. “You can keep telling yourself that.”
“I’m headed to Mom’s. It’s inevitable we’ll see each other again, but let’s just…pretend we don’t know each other.”
I take her in. Properly. For the first time since I caught her. Angular gold hoops. Clothes that reek of money. And shoes so fucking impractical, I want to carry her to the car.
Bet they make her long legs look amazing.
But not as good as that sweater makes her tits look.
They say change is good. And change has certainly been good to Calista.
She probably wouldn’t like the idea my dick is stirring in my jeans.
Hell,Idon’t like the idea. I made a huge fucking sacrifice for this woman, and she threw it all back in my face.
I take her by the shoulders and move her out of the way of the pedestrians. “But we do know each other, Cal. Isn’t it time we stopped pretending that we don’t?”
I’m sure I’m not mistaken when I see a flicker of hurt still there in her eyes. “You let me down,” she says. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”
She walks the ten feet to the curb and climbs into a car that pulls in as if by magic.
I rub my hand over my face.
There have been times over the last fifteen years when I’ve wondered to myself if I could do it all over again, would I?
Could I have done a better job of trying to talk Calista out of hacking the biker organization? Could I have found her another target? Could I have come up with a different challenge for her?
Back then, my danger radar was more rigid. I mean, I was no saint. We hacked shit and stole shit. But not from people who could kill us for even contemplating the idea.
