Control You (18 page)

My heart dropped to my toes. This was Craig, not a serial killer. He’d been trying to apologize and I’d blown him off. “I did. They were lovely. I’m sorry I haven’t called or texted to thank you and hear you out. I just needed some time,” I admitted.

This was true, but that time apart had been the deciding factor as well. I knew the relationship between us was over. Today and my lack of thinking about him had made that clear to me.

Craig crossed his arms over his chest and shifted on his feet. The light glinting off his face made him appear tense and worked up by my words, but maybe that was my paranoia creeping back in to play tricks on my mind. There was a shadow of a bruise along his jawline, and I wondered who’d put it there—Cameron?

“Time, right. I get it.” His shoulders hunched forward, and an expression I’d never seen before flitted across his face. I couldn’t decide if he was feeling remorseful for what he’d done, or if he was trying too hard to appear that way. “Listen, I know what I did was wrong. I was drunk and not thinking properly. I fully admit that, but please, can’t we work through this?”

Flickers of how I’d felt during the situation with him at the party flashed through me with as much potency as before. “You were drunk, but that isn’t a reason or excuse for what you did.” I wanted to press further with what I was saying, but noticed Craig’s hands ball into fists at his sides and begin to beat against his thighs.

The fear of him I’d felt earlier came rushing back full force.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t have used those terms. I’m just trying to explain to you that who you saw that night isn’t me. It never has been. We’ve been together for a few months now, and you have to admit you’ve never seen me like that before. I let my jealousy get the best of me and I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. I promise.”

I stared at him, waiting to see if he’d stop pounding his fist into the side of his thigh. When he realized what I was staring at, he stopped and softened his features before his eyebrows squished together and his mouth dipped into a frown.

“You’re looking at me like you’re scared of me or something.”

“Maybe that’s because I sort of am.” I couldn’t keep the words in. They flew from my lips in a guilty admission as though I were possessed. Craig’s eyes flashed and I waited with a pounding heart, wondering what he’d say to me next.

He rubbed his hands over his face and then stepped forward, erasing the distance between us, and cupped my face between his palms. I nearly flinched at his touch. “Don’t be. Please, Paige, understand that I didn’t mean it. I swear.” His eyes locked with mine, the honey brown in them blazing with warmth and sincerity.

I searched his face for any trace of dishonesty, but found none. My gaze dropped to the bruising along his jaw. It had a yellowish tint and was faded around the edges. Maybe whatever Cameron had done to him that night had made him realize the severity of his actions. Maybe it had bettered him. I could only hope.

“Nothing like that will ever happen again. I promise,” he whispered.

The intensity in his eyes was captivating. No one had ever looked at me the way he was right now—so completely broken and as though my decision to be with him was a life or death situation—and in that moment, I believed him. Jealousy could be a dangerous emotion. I knew this. Craig must have seen the acceptance to his plea in my eyes, because in the next instant, his lips were pressed against mine and I was waiting for him to touch me the way he used to.

I lost myself in the feel of his lips against mine, warm and featherlight. When I opened my mouth so that he would be tempted to deepen the kiss, I realized what I was doing. I’d been about to break things off with him for good, until he’d kissed me. Just because he was a damn good kisser was no reason to stay with him. It was a plus, but not a reason, I scolded myself.

“Craig.” I pulled back and forced some space between us. “I don’t think—”

“A second chance, Paige, that’s all I’m asking for. I screwed up,” he cut me off. “I’m well aware of that. And while I’m not trying to diminish what I did to you in any way, I still can’t help but feel like you’re making a bigger deal out of this than it should be.”

I flinched at his words. Was he right? Was I making a big deal about this? While I had been known to be melodramatic at times, he’d physically hurt me. I opened my mouth to say so, but he cut me off before I could start.

“Please, give me another shot at this—at us.” His eyes shifted between mine as though they were searching for what I would say before I said it. “
Please
.”

The tremor in his voice stabbed at my heart. I’d never made a guy cry before, but I wondered if that was where Craig was headed. His eyes were glistening in the dim light that filled my shop and his brows were drawn together in a desperate way.

While my brain was telling me he’d already had his chance and blew it, my heart was pleading with me not to crush him any more than he already was. “Okay.”

“That’s a yes, right?” His brows furrowed even more and a boyish look swept across his face.

A small smile twisted at my lips. “Yes.”

I’d give him a second chance, because he seemed genuine in his apology, but I prayed he would be worth it.

CAMERON

I folded the skinny jeans in my hands and chuckled. “How do you fit in these? Don’t your legs feel like they’re lacking circulation when you wear them?”

Eva shot me a go-to-hell look. “Are you calling me fat?”

Placing the jeans on top of the other pairs I’d managed to fold, I laughed. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

She grinned. “Yeah, I know, but you walked right into that one. And, no, they don’t cut off my circulation. They’re stretchy.”

“Stretchy, right, and that makes them seem to fit better? Some women need to realize that just because an article of clothing is made of stretchy material it doesn’t necessarily make them look good in it.” I picked the jeans back up and held them out to her. “Here, go try these on and let me make sure you don’t fall into that category.”

She smacked me across the chest. “Shut up. You know if anyone should be giving someone hell, it should be me giving you hell. I mean, you’re folding laundry on a Thursday night with me. Since when did you become so domesticated?” She grinned.

I pursed my lips together; she was right. It was Thursday night and I had nothing better to do besides stay at her place and help fold her freaking laundry. What the hell was the world coming to?

“Yeah, well, I could be asking you the same thing, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart. You know how much I hate your little pet names,” she grumbled. “And you know why I’m home. The loser I chose this time was just that, a loser. What’s your excuse?” She arched an eyebrow at me.

“I’m a recovering addict; becoming a homebody is logically my next step. If I don’t cut myself off from fun, I might relapse.” I was kidding, slightly. The last week or so had been tough, and thoughts of using to escape the mental anguish I’d found myself in had been tempting.

“Not funny.” Eva frowned.

“I wasn’t trying to be.”

“How are the renovations going?” It was a pointed change of subject, but I wasn’t so sure Eva had fully thought out the direction she was steering the conversation. “You haven’t said anything about it lately. Did you get the cabinets in this week?” she asked.

I nodded. “Yeah, cabinets are in. Things are going smoothly. I’ve learned money truly holds the power to get shit done when you want it to. The contractor I hired to oversee the job has really had his guys busting stuff out. At this rate, I think I might be out of your hair before Halloween.”

She tossed the shirt she’d been folding down onto the couch, and placed a hand on her hip. “You know that’s not why I was asking. I don’t mind you staying here, Cam, not at all. In fact, it’s been kind of nice having you around. This is the longest you’ve stayed in town since I’ve known you.”

It truly was. I’d been in town for a little over three weeks now. That had to be some sort of record for me. Some days I wanted to pack up what little I owned and head out into the unknown again, while others all I wanted was to wake up in a place I could call home.

“And to think, all this is because of that girl, Paige.” Eva flashed me a knowing smirk.

I shook my head and grinned. “Nope. Generally, you read too much into things, but this time, Miss Bennett, you’re way off. I’m just tired of living the lonely nomad lifestyle is all. It has nothing to do with Paige.”

Sadness flashed in her exotic eyes, and I knew she was focusing on one word and one word only—lonely. Eva was lonely too. I dropped my stare to the T-shirt of hers I held in my hand. A lacy thong was twisted in it. Carefully, I tugged it free and flung it at her with a smile. “Sexy little thing.”

She rolled her eyes and grinned. “Anyway…”

“Let’s head to the bar after this and see who can snag the most numbers for the night,” I challenged her, grabbing up another item to fold.

“God, how long has it been since we’ve done that?” she balked.

“Too damn long.” I grinned.

Eva held out her hand and met my stare. “I’m game if you are.”

“Oh, I’m game.” I set down the pair of tiny sleep shorts I’d been folding and shook her hand.

“So what’s on the table?”

Rubbing my chin, I thought for a moment. I could make it real interesting; there were loads of bets I’d love to see Eva lose. But this was Eva and I couldn’t bring myself to make some sort of perverted bet with her—no matter how much fun seeing her streak around her apartment complex would be. “Money, loser pays the winner one hundred bucks.”

“One hundred bucks, huh? I could use some new fall clothes. You’re on.”

“Let’s do this, then.” I grinned.

* * * *

Shooters was my type of place. It was where Eva and I had first met, and the place I frequented every time I was in town for my papers. There was something about the energy lingering there. It was as though it were alive. It filled me up and got me high in a sense, which made it the type of fix I always needed when I was feeling out of sorts.

I put my cigarette out before moving to hold the door open for Eva. She smiled as she walked past me.

“You ready to lose, Mr. Green?”

The wicked gleam in her eyes excited me. Damn, I missed these days with her, days when it was strictly flirty fun and nothing serious or deep.

“Oh, got some confidence, huh?”

She flung her long hair over her shoulder. “Damn right. I didn’t wear this skirt to not reel in some numbers.”

I shifted my gaze to her long, beautifully toned legs, and chuckled. “You’re right. I’ve got my work cut out for me tonight.”

We walked to the bar and sat, ready to order our first drink. This was our ritual—scope the place out while drinking our warm-up drink—before we split for the night to rack up some numbers.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asked Eva, ignoring me completely. Yeah, she may have me beat by the end of the night.

“I’ll take a Cosmo.” She winked.

He grinned and started to mix her request. Eva glanced at me, flashed a sly smile, and mouthed
game on
. I chuckled and shook my head. Damn I missed this.

“It’s on the house,” the guy said, once he pushed the drink he’d created in front of her. “What’s your name?”

“Maybe you’ll find out after a few more of these.” She smiled all sexy-like, and then stood to case the place while walking around, strutting her stuff. Eva was really bringing the A-game tonight.

I ordered a Jack and Coke when the bartender was done ogling Eva from afar, and sat, sipping the thing while searching for my first victim of the night. A blonde standing near the pool table caught my eye. She was laughing at something her friend had done. The woman’s eyes locked with mine from across the place, and I spun in my seat to face the bartender again, knowing this would draw her in. She was the type who went after the assholes. It was written all over her face. Getting her number would be easy, and then I’d be able to drop her and move on to someone else, because it was what she wanted. What she looked for. She was the type who was into the chase and one-night stands. They made her feel desirable and gave her that self-esteem boost she craved like a drug.

God, I’d eaten her type in the past. Girls like her had been my thing—sexy, easy to get in the sack, expendable.

Glancing at her over my shoulder, I made sure she was still standing where she could watch me. She was still talking with her friend, but her eyes were trained on me. Once she realized I was looking at her, she hung her head back and laughed at something her friend had said. I shifted my gaze back to my drink in front of me, and began my countdown—fifteen, fourteen, thirteen... Once I made it to one, I would head over and go in for the kill.

“Not that one. She’s trouble,” Eva muttered as she moved to sit two barstools down from me.

I chuckled. “Already trying to sabotage me tonight, are you?”

She took another sip of her Cosmo and locked eyes with me. “No, just being serious. She’s not the type to play with. There’s something damaged about her. She’s trying too hard.”

“Which would make her the perfect type to willingly give out her number,” I countered.

“Whatever, all I’m saying is the girl has
crazy bitch
stamped on her forehead. I can see it from a mile away.”

“Fine.” I rolled my eyes. “I’ll choose another.”

“Better hurry.” She grinned. “I’ve already got one.” She proudly flashed me a napkin with some chicken scratch etched on it.

I pursed my lips together. “Damn, I’m rusty or something.”

Eva chuckled. “Nah, I wouldn’t say that, but I would say you’re about to become seriously distracted.”

“Why is that?”

“Because of her.” Eva pointed to someone entering the bar, and I turned to look.

Paige stood at the door with Blaire and Lauren flanking her. My breath left me at the sight of her. I knew I might as well hand over the hundred bucks to Eva now, because there was no way in hell I’d be working on getting anyone else’s number tonight. Not with her here. I reached into my back pocket for my wallet, pulled out a crisp one hundred, and handed it to Eva.