Chapter 39
Haley
We left John while he was in the middle of a particularly eloquent cursing rant. The moment I knocked on his camper door and told him the heater blew, he forgot my existence. Sneaking out seemed like the best course of action.
West and I haven’t said anything to each other since the kiss, which means this car ride is officially awkward. Resting my head against the back of the leather seat, I watch the night as we roll by. What the hell was I thinking?
When he backed me against the cage and nipped my ear... I close my eyes. I can still feel the heat of his lips on my neck and what drives me stick-a-knife-in-my-eye insane is as much as I hate myself for kissing West, my body is screaming for a repeat performance.
Stupid body. Stupid, stupid traitorous body.
West eases his car in front of my uncle’s and the pathetic part of me wants to dart into the house without acknowledging him. I rub my forehead, covering my eyes. Oh, crap, I’m embarrassed. How can I look at him again? We’re not even dating and I freaking all but molested him. And that brings up a ton of issues because I don’t want to date him... He’s a fighter.
“Haley,” West says. “About tonight—”
“I don’t hook up.” I peek at him and whatever he had to say seems to have escaped him as he stares at me with a slack mouth. It’s like someone pushed fast-forward on the remote and my thoughts are skipping and racing. “I don’t know who that was, but it wasn’t me. I mean, have you done this before?”
West runs a hand over his face. “Yeah. It’s what I do. F*ck that. It’s what I’ve done, but that’s not what was happening between us.”
Oh, crap, I’ve digressed into an Octagon Bunny, bouncing from one fighter to the next. Soon I’ll be in a bikini, announcing the next round. Just when I think I can’t go lower...
“Haley, I swear to God that wasn’t a hookup. I told you that this means something to me. That you mean something to me.”
He’s saying the right words and a small voice in the back of my mind tells me to listen, but the crazy portion is winning. “Because that’s what you tell girls when you drop them off. You don’t look at them and say ‘I used you.’ You lie and say it meant something! I watch MTV!”
“You watch...what?” He shakes his head. “Don’t care. What happened between us—”
“Stop it.” There’s an ache near my heart and my hand claws at my chest. I can’t think and I can’t draw in a deep breath and I kissed West and I loved kissing him and he makes me laugh and he’s a fighter and I like him.
I like him. I more than like him and it terrifies me that I have feelings for West Young. “I can’t do this.”
“Do what?” West tosses his arms out as if he’s mad or frustrated or I don’t know what, because I don’t trust my reactions on anything anymore.
“Hook up or date a fighter or like or love or anything. I don’t want anyone close again.” Sheer terror widens my eyes with the rawness of the words. “Have you ever seen the paint sets that have multiple colors?” I’ve boarded the bus for crazy and somehow I can’t get off.