Feel the Rush: A Hard Feelings Novel (InterMix) (22 page)

“She left me a message, Porter. She said she was ending it.”

Murano looked up at him and pure pain haunted his features. God, he was torn up over this woman. And she wasn’t worth it. She was married, for fuck’s sake!

“Look, I know you cared about her—”

“I loved her,” he snapped, meeting Reed’s eyes in a challenge Murano was in no condition to throw out. Luckily Reed knew to roll with the punches when Murano got this way. The guy was a good man, but he drank like a pussy-whipped prick and was quick to lash out when he was upset—and this woman had a way of fucking with him bad. Reed was partially surprised to see Sanders’ place still intact.

“Okay, you loved her. But she’s married.” Reed could hear the accusation pressing against his words, so he cleared his throat and tried softening it down a bit. “You knew this day would come.”

“Yeah,” he admitted, lowering his head again. The poor sap was a mess. “I just didn’t realize how much it would fucking hurt.”

Reed’s hand thudded on top of Murano’s shoulder and he gave it a firm squeeze. “How’s your head? Good?”

“Besides the fact that it’s no longer fuzzy, yeah, it’s good, man.”

“Good, let’s go.”

“Where?”

“Out for a drink.” One way to fix this drunken pity problem—drink more. Hanging around in limbo where he was drunk enough to lash out and start shit yet sober enough to still feel the pain he was obviously going through was only going to end badly on everyone’s account. Tipping him over the edge so he was downright numb and could pass out until morning—that’s what he needed.

“Reed, I don’t—”

“What have I told you before? Life is too fucking short. No woman is worth this. . . .”

The moment the words left his lips he knew they weren’t true. He thought back to the way he felt when he pulled away from Meagan that day at the cabin, when he thought he was doing what he needed to keep her.

Meagan was worth it.

He looked back at her and her eyes were glued to his. That same pounding filled his chest, like tiny little nails poking him repeatedly until the feeling burned in his stomach. She’d heard him. . . .

But then she smiled at him.

Her lips pulled up tightly and she sent him a wink. He returned her smile, relieved, then wrapped his arms around Murano’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s go get you drunk again.”

“Lead the way,” he muttered, standing up from his stool.

“Baby, I’m gonna take him to grab a few beers—”

She wrinkled her nose up and smiled. “Go.”

He grabbed her chin and kissed her mouth. Her lips instantly relaxed around his and he slipped his tongue inside to get one last taste before he left. That should hold him over till tonight.

***

Meagan dropped her duffel bag by the leather sectional and plopped down on the chaise. She heard the soft patter of little paws prancing down the hard floor seconds before a big ball of black fur landed in her lap. Harry was her lover. Weasley couldn’t care less if she was around or not—typical.

Eva dropped her truck keys on the bar that separated the kitchen from the living room, and they chimed against the granite. “Well played, again, babe. You got that man wound up so tight he can’t even see straight.” The sarcasm lacing her words pissed Meagan off.

“Eva, I’m exhausted, and I’m really not in the mood for your word games. If you have something to bitch at me about then just fucking say it already.”

She walked into the living room and stood in front of the couch. “You’re calling it quits with him, aren’t you?”

Meagan’s eyes darted over Eva. “How the hell? Seriously, sometimes it’s downright scary how well you know me.”

She shrugged. “It’s a gift.” She flopped down on the ottoman next to Meagan. “Spill. What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“I’m not buying it.”

She chewed on her bottom lip, trying to pull her thoughts to match what she was feeling. It was a lot harder than it sounded. “I’m falling for him,” she confessed as she rubbed the top of Harry’s head like it was her life support.

“Yeah, can you tell me something I don’t already know?”

Meagan’s eyes darted up and she sighed. She never thought she would ever feel this way again. That head-over-heels love. The one she felt in college. The love that built her up and broke her down. She was falling for Reed. No, she had fallen—hard. And she couldn’t be shattered again. One time was enough, and she knew that if she allowed it to happen this time—with Reed—it would be much worse.

“He’s not ready to settle down, not in any aspect of his life. And that’s okay. I can’t just hope that someday he will want the future I do. I want a man who already wants it too.”

“Mr. Safe,” Eva uttered.

“Yes. My heart’s torn. Torn between the future I want, and the man I want that future with”—she shook her head—“and I know I can’t have them both.”

Chapter Twenty-one

Reed was wasted by the time Murano was ready to stop his pussy-pouting and leave the bar. He felt for the guy, though. Reed might not have agreed with his buddy fucking around with a married woman, but he hated that he was hurt. It sucked when a woman held that power over you.

He didn’t bother texting or calling Meagan. She was probably asleep by now, so he just stumbled out of Sanders’ truck, who had bitch-boy duty twice in one day—they were going to owe him big—and managed to stagger into his own apartment.

Stripping out of his clothes, he spread out on the cool cotton sheets and closed his eyes—and before he knew it, the sun was pouring in through the open blinds and Tiny’s not-so-pleasant dog breath was panting in his face.

He reached over the bed and pulled his cell phone out of the pockets of his jeans. It was only nine in the morning, and Reed had gotten way too drunk the night before to be up that damn early.

“You need to pee, big guy?” he asked as he roughed up the fur on Tiny’s head, which was resting on the edge of the bed.

Tiny let out a soundless bark, more like a breath-bark, and backed away as he pranced from paw to paw in excitement.

Reed pulled on a pair of gym shorts and sauntered into the living room and to the patio door, Tiny right at his side. Reed hooked his Newfie up to the leash and walked him barefoot out in the courtyard.

“Well, good morning, handsome.”

Reed turned his head over his shoulder to see Eva sitting in her patio chair, coffee mug in hand.

He nodded his head. “Morning.”

“I was talking to Tiny.”

Tiny heard his name and spun around. His tail whipped back and forth when he saw Eva, and he all but pulled Reed to the patio.

Eva grabbed his oversize head in between her hands and smashed her face to his snout.

“You know he licks his balls, right?” Reed said, when Eva presumed to let Tiny lap over her entire face.

“Yeah, and so would you if you could, so I don’t want to hear it.”

He laughed. “Where’s my girl?”

Eva’s eyes dropped. “Oh, she will be out in a minute, she went in for a refill.”

Just then, the back door opened up and Meagan walked out. She was still in her sweats, her hair piled on top of her head, and she had a pair of huge black-rimmed glasses on her face. He loved when he got to see her in the mornings.

“Morning, sugar.”

She smiled, but it didn’t quite make it to her eyes. Not like the way she usually smiled at him when she first saw him for the day.

“Hey.” The metal legs of the chair skidded across the concrete patio as she pulled the chair away from the small round table and sat down.

Reed’s arm straightened behind him as Tiny made his way to the nearest bush to hike his leg. “How about I make you dinner tonight? Make up for cutting our weekend short?”

Meagan’s eyes darted to Eva’s, her lids widening enough for Reed’s heart to make a quick, jerky thud against his chest. He fucking knew something was up yesterday, and her subtle little response just confirmed it.

Her eyes flitted to his. “Um, sure.”

He could do two things at that very moment. He could call her out, ask her what the hell was going on, or he could suck it up and play it off—wait it out. Neither one seemed appealing, but he went with the latter, because there was this part of him that was stabbing him in the gut, telling him that if he asked her, he would regret it.

He put on a smile, hoping that it pulled off his usual reaction from her. “All right, baby. Come over around five.”

She scrunched her nose, and the wrinkles that creased between her eyes as she told him okay gave him an ounce of relief, but just barely.

***

“You’re wearing that?”

Meagan turned around and glared at Eva, who had made her way into her room and sat down on her bed.

“I’m just saying, babe. You can’t wear something like that when you are going to break a man’s heart. That’s not really playing a fair game.”

“I’m not going to break his heart, Eva. Mine? That’s a very strong possibility, but his, not so much.”

“You’re an idiot.” Meagan narrowed her eyes and pinched her brows together. “What? Sorry, but I’m not going to add whipped cream on top. You’re stupid if you can’t see how bad that man has it for you.”

Meagan went to the closet and pulled out a pair of pumps and dropped them to the floor. “It doesn’t matter.”

“And you’re sure this is what you want? To give up what you have with him because he’s a wild card?”

“I don’t want to wake up five years from now, two years from now, hell, six months from now, and realize he’s not it. Not when I already know.”

She knew. She knew her heart was lodged so far into his that it was going to be hard to pull it back. She knew he cared about her—she didn’t need him to tell her for her to know. But she also knew that the road he mapped out for himself never intersected with hers. If she thought this was going to be hard now, how would it be down the road when she was too far gone to realize it? It would be impossible. She wasn’t going to be blinded, not this time.

Meagan smoothed her hands over her yellow cotton tunic dress. It was casual, not too fitted, didn’t show too much boob or too much shoulder (which was one of Reeds weaknesses), but it gave away a good portion of her thighs. She stepped into her peep-toe pumps, fluffed her hair, which was having problems holding any volume in this Georgia heat, and spun around toward the door.

“Wish me luck?” she lilted.

Eva sighed heavily. “Yeah, I’ll wish you luck.” Meagan felt the weight of Eva’s eyes as her friend offered a sad smile. “You’re gonna need it, babe.”

***

Reed had worked out a plan in the last eight hours. Actually, he had worked out a few different plans, but he’d finally settled on one. He was going to act just like he always did. Not much of a plan, but it was the best one he had.

He heard the door open and the sound of Tiny scurrying down the hall as he was stirring the pasta.

“Meg?”

“Yeah, it’s me! Okay, hi, Tiny, nice to see you too, boy.”

He huffed a short laugh and shook his head. That damn dog was a pain in the ass.

Meagan rounded the corner and the way her pink lips parted into a smile when she saw him caused a chain reaction of panic to sweep through his blood. But he played it off.

“You look beautiful. Too good to be having dinner in my apartment.”

Her hands fluttered to her dress, smoothing down over the sides. She was nervous. “Thanks.”

“Wine? Beer?”

“You bought wine?”

“Nah, I’ve had this laying around the apartment from when Becky visited the week her and Conner came to tell me they were getting married. Apparently, she was nervous.”

“Becky? I find that hard to believe.”

“Well, her big brother’s approval supposedly meant a lot to her, and I had yet to meet the fucker who was stealing my baby sister’s heart. Lucky for him, I loved the bastard.”

She laughed and the sound settled over him and he relaxed. Her laugh had a way of doing that to him—even if she was only pretending. He could pretend too.

“Dinner’s ready.”

“What can I do?”

“Nothing, go sit down.”

Reed fumbled around in the kitchen. He was no chef, that was for damn sure. The best meals he made were the ones he carried home in paper bags. The one and only thing, aside from throwing meat on the grill, that he didn’t royally screw up was pasta—sorta.

He carefully dumped the pasta into a large bowl and carried it to the table along with a beer and a glass of wine.

“Dig in, baby,” he said, setting the pasta down on the table and shoving in a large spoon.

Meagan’s lips tucked under as she pressed them tightly together. Her cheeks turned bright red and the edges of her eyes pricked with a suppressed smile. “Mac and cheese?” She snickered, unable to hold back her laugh any longer. And thank god, it was like music to his ears.

Reed sat down next to her and spooned out a giant helping and slapped it down on his plate. “Hey, I offered to make you dinner, woman. I didn’t say it was going to be fancy.”

She tilted her head and looked at him from the side while she lifted her brows and spooned some pasta onto her own plate. “Lucky for you, mac and cheese is one of my staple food groups.”

He reached out his hand and moved the stands of blond waves that were hanging over her shoulder to her back, exposing the side of her long neck. She froze and her breathing stilled.

Then he touched her—the way he knew she loved.

He ran the backs of his knuckles down the side of her neck and she closed her eyes and inhaled a deep breath. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look?” he said softly.

A pained expression hardened her face as she fidgeted her legs under the table. “Yes, and thank you.”

Her pulse was pattering rapidly below her ear, her soft, golden skin infinitesimally rising and falling with the beat of her heart. There was her body’s reactions to him—tempting him, luring him in without her even realizing it. He couldn’t help himself. He leaned over and pressed his lips to her warm skin. Her scent filled his nose and sent a familiar signal to his groin.

“Reed . . .”

Her words trailed off. Her attempt to protest faded as she involuntarily rolled her head to the side, giving him a better path to take down the side of her neck. Her body could never lie to him.

“Yeah, baby?” he murmured as he skimmed his lips over the dip at the base of her throat, flicking his tongue out to taste her.

“I . . . we need to . . .”

His hands explored the inside of her thighs, making their way beneath her dress.

Her legs clamped closed, locking his hand in place. “Reed,” she sighed, and his heart fell to the floor. Her mind’s hesitance was clear, crystal clear, but her body still had a weakness, still was quivering under his lips and softening against the chair. And if his gut was right, if what he was sensing was true, he was taking her body’s opening. He was going to remind her just exactly the way she felt beneath him. How she felt against him as he held her naked body in his arms. Her body could never lie to him—and he was going to use that selfishly to his advantage.

His fingers gently bit into her inner thigh, his thumb grazing over the lace that covered her, and her head fell against the back of the chair and her legs relaxed. He didn’t waste any time crushing his mouth to hers. Her lips moved over his, it was desperate and gentle and completely new.

He felt an unfamiliar tug in his chest as her hands lifted and molded to the sides of his face. She whimpered into his mouth, but it wasn’t from desire.

He scooped her in his arms and carried her back to his room, never once letting his mouth leave hers.

***

Meagan felt the cool floor against her feet as Reed lowered her out of his arms in front of the bed. His eyes held hers with a vise grip, and it was terrifying—terrifying because as badly as she wanted to break his stare, she couldn’t.

His hands reached behind her and carefully unzipped her dress. His fingers easily unhooked her bra and then traveled up her spine, igniting every nerve in her body. The light touches—the simple, sweet, and easy touches, those hurt the worst. His hands continued to the nape of her neck then fell around to her shoulders, pushing the fabrics from her arms, allowing the dress to pool on the floor at her feet, followed by her lace bra.

“I could do this all day, you know.”

“What?” she asked softly, her voice breaking.

“Look at you.”

His eyes followed his hands as they traced the curve of her sides. His touch was light, but the rough pads of his fingers pressed into her like they were weighted down with liquid ice, leaving a burning trail of goose bumps as they fanned over her sensitive skin, and she shuddered.

He hooked his fingers under the waist of her panties and kneeled as he pulled them down her legs. She braced her hands on his shoulders for balance as he helped her step out of her heels.

His mouth leaned in, his tongue swiped quickly across the ache between her thighs, and her knees buckled from the surprise. Gripping her strongly around her waist, he stood back up.

Her lungs constricted and she felt like she couldn’t breath as her heartbeat seemed to stop. The look in Reed’s eyes tore into her. They were intense but gentle. Raw but hard. Hurt but hopeful. The myriad of conflicting emotions penetrated her and knocked her heart from her chest. The only way she knew to smother the bereavement that was inevitably finding her was to get lost, and Reed had a way of doing that to her. Of rising her to a place that she couldn’t touch alone, of carrying her to heights that terrified her until she couldn’t do anything but feel his body inside her. And that’s what she needed. That was the only thing that could lure her away from the heartbreak that was waiting for her on the other side. Right now—she wanted to feel lost.

She tore at Reed’s cloths, eagerly peeling his shirt off over his head. She quickly unbuttoned his jeans, pushing them to the floor—then he had her on the bed.

Every single nerve ending in her body was on fire. Reed’s hands touched her like he was feeling her for the first time. He was savoring every line, every curve, every dip. His mouth was easy—soft, dotting kisses over her neck, breaking away to crush against her lips before he would find his way back to her neck again as he held his weight above her.

“Reed . . . ,” she mumbled against his jaw.

“Let me take my time with you, baby.”

His hand slid between her legs and his fingers slowly sank into her—but it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t what she wanted. She needed him. She needed him to fill her, to feel his thick cock buried inside her, stretching her around him until she couldn’t take anymore. She needed to feel him—so she didn’t feel anything else.

Her throat burned, accompanying the prick she felt behind her eyes. “Reed,” she said again, only this time her words were strangled by the sob that was caught in the back of her throat.

***

The sound of his name struggling as it left her lips sent a pang of panic to his chest. His mouth left her neck and his eyes darted to hers. They were filled with unshed tears that gathered above her thick bottom lashes. He smoothed back the hair that fell next to her face.