Fighting to Forgive (Fighting, #2)

In a hurry, before I talk myself out of it, I slip on some shoes and race out the door. Giddy, I jump into the Bronco and drive toward Blake’s house.

This is so impulsive, and on my terms. I blast the classic rock station that’s playing “Hotel California” by The Eagles. Before long, I’m parked and racing up the stairs to Blake’s condo.

I pound on the door and ring the bell, smiling and bouncing on my toes. There’s music, faint, but loud enough to be heard through the solid wood door. He won’t be able to hear my knock over the blaring beat.

Sticking my ear to the door, I wait for a break in the track. The drum solo throbs against my ears, and I try to identify the song. When the vibration of the bass dies, I ring the doorbell, this time louder and longer. I press my ear to the door again. The music shuts off. Butterflies swirl in my stomach. I lick my lips, so excited to see him and jump into his arms.

By the time I hear the lock click, I’m practically squealing with excitement. The door opens and… my smile dissolves along with my enthusiasm.

Blake stands in the doorway, a scowl etched into his face. His shirtless torso shimmers with sweat down to his jeans, and the top button of his fly hangs open.

And he’s barefoot. What in the hell did I just interrupt?

His narrow glare moves from my tube-socked feet, up my legs, over my belly, and to my eyes. I shake my head, as if my body is speaking the word my lips won’t voice. No.

I take a step back, and for the first time I see something flare in his eyes, but I can’t read it.

“Mouse? What the hell are you doing here?”

“You’re, um… busy.” I can’t take my eyes off the open buttons of his jeans. “I’m gonna go.” But I can’t move.

How could he do this? He had sex with me this afternoon, and now he’s with someone else. The little voice inside my head says I saw this coming all along. It shouts that I should’ve known after he didn’t walk me to my door. This is what bad boys do, and to expect anything else is naive. The voice reminds me I can’t get my heart broken. It’s impossible. But damn, why does it feel like it’s breaking now?

Act like a slut, I’ll treat you like a slut.

Shut up!

Best thing you have to offer is what’s between your legs.

“Stop it,” I say, and grip my ears, praying it’ll help force back his taunts.

I turn to make my escape, but I’m pushed up against the wall outside Blake’s doorway.

“What’s going on in your head?” he growls against my neck.

His huge, sweaty body pressing in close makes me dizzy.

“Nothing. I get it. I’ll leave you alone.”

“Fuck.” His hands move over my hips and waist to cup my bottom. “Who said I wanted you to leave me alone?”

My treacherous body responds to his touch, and I lean into his hold. “I may be dumb, but I’m not stupid.” I can’t believe he thinks he can grab me like this when he has another woman in his bed. Asshole.

He pins me with his hips and moves his hands to my face. “You are not dumb or stupid. You hear me?”

“Blake, you have a girl in your room and you’re out here arguing with me about—”

Abruptly, he steps away, leaving me swaying on my feet. I’m grateful to have the wall at my back to keep me from falling.

His eyes form tight slits. “What the fuck did you say?”

“I wasn’t born yesterday.” I point to the open door of his condo. “You have a woman in there.”

He looks around then aims his daggered glare back at me. “You think I’ve got a chick in my bed?” Propping his hands low on his hips, he drops his head. “Un-fucking-believable.”

I push off from the wall. “What am I supposed to think, Blake? I show up and you’re…” My arms motion from his fly to his face. “All sweaty and shirtless, looking like warm sex and orgasms.”

His gaze shoots to mine, this time wide. “Sex and orgasms?”

I straighten my shoulders and lift my chin. “You heard me.”

His lips twitch and a look simmers in his eyes, so dark and arousing that I have to lean back against the wall. “Come here, Mouse.”

“Ha. No way.” But hell if my feet aren’t burning to run to him.

Holding one hand out, he tilts his head with that same look. “Come.”

Damn him. I shake my head, not trusting my voice.

“Rebel,” he mumbles, and drops his hand. “You show up at my place looking sexy as hell in your high socks, short ass shorts, and no bra—”

Shit. I forgot to put on a bra. I cross my arms over my chest.

“—I’ll come after you, sweetheart. But considering the way you acted after we had sex, I need you to come to me.”

“How I acted?” I think back to this afternoon. “You’re the one who freaked out, probably nervous your number two would show up and catch me in your bed.”

“Here you go again.” He shakes his head, takes a deep breath in, and exhales hard. “Every time I start to prove you wrong about me, you defense-up and throw that shit in my face.”

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