It’s too much. All of it. This town. These fucking kids. This whole ridiculous life that’s supposed to be so much better than the one I had before because I’ve got a fat wallet. I tip my head back and release the scream of frustration that’s been building since I rode that stupid bus back into Bayside.
“Ella!” Running footsteps pound on the pavement. “What’s wrong? Who hurt you? Where is he? I’ll kill him—” Reed stumbles to a halt when he realizes I’m alone.
“Why are you following me?” I demand. He’s the last person I want to see right now with ants crawling all around my feet, spilled beer drying on my skin, and my hand feeling gross and sticky.
“I’ve been yelling your name for the last five minutes, but you were so lost in your head that you didn’t hear me.” He grabs my shoulders. “Are you hurt?”
His hands run down my arms and then onto my hips. He turns me and I let him because I’m so hungry for someone to care about me that even this feels lovely. And I hate myself for it.
I jerk away and stumble against the car door. “Don’t touch me. I’m fine. I screamed because of this.” I flip an angry hand toward the car.
He peers into the convertible, shining his own phone on the mess. “Who did this?” he growls.
“Maybe you did,” I mutter, even as my brain tells me how silly the accusation is. Reed has no reason to destroy my car.
“My dad gave you that car,” he says with an irritated sigh, confirming my thoughts. “Why would I ruin your wheels?”
“Who knows why you do anything?” I answer snidely. “I can’t even begin to guess what goes on in your sick mind.”
He looks like he’s struggling to keep his cool. Why he has any struggle, I have no clue. I’m the one dealing with an ant-infested car while he was cozying up to his ex-girlfriend.
“You sleep with Abby while I was gone?” The question slips out before I can stop it.
I regret it a hundred times more when a ghost of a smile flits across his face. “No.”
Then what were you two whispering about back there, I scream silently. I force myself to turn away and focus on fixing the problem. I don’t need Reed, or anyone else for that matter. I’ve been taking care of myself for years.
I wipe my hand again and then thumb my way to the search engine on my phone. Awkwardly, I type in the word “taxi.”
“Not going to ask me what we were talking about?”
Nope. I’ve learned my lesson. I select the top service and call.
“Yellow Cab, can I help you.”
“I’m at—” I cover the mouthpiece. “What’s the name of this place?”
“Ma’am? I’ll need an address,” the dispatcher says impatiently.
“Just a minute,” I mutter into the mouthpiece.
Reed shakes his head and pulls the phone out of my hand. “Sorry. Wrong number.” He hangs up and sticks the phone in the pocket of his jeans. “Abby was apologizing for hooking up with East. I told her not to worry about it.”
“You should worry about it. Give me my phone back.”
He ignores my request. “I’ve got other things on my mind. Like wondering why my girl is kissing my quarterback.”
“Because he’s hot.” I stare at Reed’s pocket, wondering how I’m getting my phone out of there. My gaze drifts to the left where there’s another noticeable bulge. One that seems to grow as I stare at it. One that I remember pressed against me, hard and hot…
Parts of my body start to tighten and tingle. I clench my thighs together.
“You don’t like him,” Reed says hoarsely.
“You don’t know what I like.”
“Oh, yeah, I do.” Snake quick, he wraps an arm around my waist.
His mouth slams against mine.
I grip his head to push him away, but instead I hold him there. We don’t kiss so much as try to kill each other with our lips and tongues and teeth. His hands dig into my arms. My fingers gouge his scalp. That steel in his jeans is no longer a memory but a reality, and my whole body rejoices. Oh my God, I’ve missed this. His lips on mine. His warm body pressed up against me. I missed it and I hate myself for it.
I wrench my mouth away from him. “Stop kissing me,” I order.
His lips curve upward. “Let go of me then.”
And when I don’t do it immediately, he kisses me again and his tongue slides through my parted lips. This time his hand is at the waistband of my leggings, yanking them down. I fumble for the bottom of his shirt, seeking his bare skin. Groaning, he hoists me up and my legs somehow close around his waist.
I feel the cool metal of the car hood under my bared butt. Reed’s fingers are squeezing my thighs and the tightness I felt before starts to ache. I thrash under his rough embrace, wanting something, searching for something, reaching for it. But it’s elusive.
His mouth leaves mine to find my neck and then my shoulder. “That’s right, baby. You’re mine,” he growls against my skin.
Yes, I’m his. His…baby?
“No. No, I’m not.” I wiggle out from underneath his body, breathless and ashamed as I frantically tug my leggings up. “You have a baby and it’s not me.”