“That kiss?”
Shocked, all the air dragged from her lungs, she went still.
“From a few months ago,” he clarified, as if she didn’t remember, as if it didn’t replay in her mind almost nonstop, every single day. “In Rowdy’s bar?”
“Right. I remember.” Although she often wished she could forget.
She’d tried hitting on Leese, just to shake off her melancholy over Armie. But Leese was a pretty awesome guy and he’d let her down easy, while making it clear he’d be on board except he knew her heart was elsewhere. Since then, she and Leese had become even closer friends.
“What about that kiss?”
For the longest time Armie stared at her, then he stepped closer and breathed, “Hottest fucking thing I’ve ever felt.”
Oh God. She couldn’t hear this. She couldn’t feed the hope.
“I’m going to be straight with you.”
Her heart punched. “Okay.”
“There’s not a thing in this universe I’d enjoy more than having you.”
Having her? Just hearing him say it made her body react.
He touched her hair, smoothed it back over her shoulder. “Not winning the lottery. Not a title belt. Nothing.”
His thumb moved over her neck and her pulse leaped.
“I’ve thought about it,” he whispered. “A lot.”
“Me, too.”
“Shh.” He touched a fingertip to her lips to quiet her. “I seriously doubt we’re thinking the same things.”
She badly wanted to know what he thought. Armie was known for his sexual excesses and the variety of his experience. Far too often she tortured herself wondering what things Armie might want to do with her.
“And that’s the problem,” he added.
She wanted to cry that there was no problem, but she could already see he wouldn’t listen.
“I want you, Rissy. That should never be in question.” He held her chin, searched her face, and repeated, “Never.”
And there it was: unrelenting hope. Unsure what to say, she nodded.
“But more than that, I want you to have better than me.”
Wait... “What?” He couldn’t be serious. Better than him? Did he not know what an amazing man he was? How could that be? He had friends who cared about him. He had Cannon, and damn it, her brother was the finest man she knew. Cannon wouldn’t be best friends with a man who wasn’t every bit as awesome.
“I know you’re leaving your brother’s house because of me, and that’s the last thing that should ever happen. I don’t want to chase you away from your family. I don’t want to make you feel bad.”
“Too late.”
His face tightened. He dropped his hands and took a step back. “This is where you have to help me.” Looking far too serious, he said, “I don’t ever want to hurt you—you have to know that. So you need to get your priorities straight.”
She shook her head—but he said it anyway.
“Move on. Find yourself a good guy. Hell...” He choked a little, then whispered, “Settle down, get married, have kids of your own.”
Without him.
That’s what he meant. Do all of that—without him. A refreshing wave of anger helped to smother some of the awful pain. “You think I can’t?”
“I know you can.” He swallowed. “Any man would be lucky to have you.”
That made her laugh. Any man—other than him. “Did you notice my new look? I mean, all the other guys did.”
Very quietly, he confirmed, “I noticed.”
“Well, that’s me, moving on.” She flipped her hair. “New look, new attitude. I might even take a new position at the bank.” A different managerial position that would give her some distance from Armie. Sucked that she’d also be farther away from her brother—especially since she’d soon be an aunt—but she didn’t know any other way. “I’ve decided to take a page from your book, Armie.”
“Jesus.”
“What? You think you’re the only one to play the field, to get a little wild? I want experiences, too.” She’d wanted those experiences with him, but never would she beg him. “Go on about your life with a clear conscience—because I’ll be going on with mine.”
Jerking away, she got in her car and fumbled for her keys. Armie stood there, rigid, his gaze unreadable. And somehow, despite being a real badass, he looked wounded.
Finally, when she got the car started, Armie walked off, across the street in front of her to the other curb, where he got in his truck. Breathing hard, Merissa stared at him until he gunned the engine and pulled away.
Going the opposite direction of her. Always.
And damn it, it cut so deep she couldn’t stop the tears. Because this time she knew it was over—when it had never really begun.
MID-FEBRUARY TURNED INTO early March and Armie didn’t see Rissy at all. Not at the rec center, not at Rowdy’s bar where everyone usually hung out on Friday and Saturday night, and not at her brother’s house. He wanted to ask about her but knew he didn’t have the right.
Sitting alone at the bar, drinking a freaking lemon water, he only half listened as Miles and Brand talked about upcoming fights at the table opposite him. Women tried to get his attention but he didn’t have any interest. He’d put up a good front, given it a shot several times, and he’d probably convinced everyone with his bullshit, but the truth was that he hadn’t had any real interest in a good long while.
Not since that day he’d finally tasted Rissy.
His gaze went to the small hallway in Rowdy’s bar. Dim and narrow, it led to an office and the johns. Months ago he’d caught Rissy there and for a few minutes he’d lost the fight. Mouth on mouth, tongues playing, damp heat and a firestorm of sensation. Remembering, he closed his eyes and gave in to the surge of molten lust. God Almighty, she’d tasted good. Felt good. Fit against him perfectly.
An elbow to his ribs got his eyes open again. Instead of one of the guys, it was Vanity, Stack’s wife, who slid onto a stool beside him. “What?” he asked.
“You tell me,” she said, her gaze unwavering, her nails tapping on the bar counter.
Gorgeous beyond words with long blond hair, a killer body and an angel’s face, Vanity was still one of the most down-to-earth, kindhearted people he knew. “Is that supposed to make sense to me, Vee?”
