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Every Breath You Take

Page 40

by A.M. Myers

Chapter Eight

Lincoln

“Let’s get some wine glasses and pop this baby open,” one of Tate’s friends says as they gather in her living room, curled up on the couches. Tate leaves the room and I watch her walk into the kitchen. She stops in front of the sink and braces her hands on the counter and drops her head.

“So fucking stupid,” she mutters to herself and I can’t look away from the screen, enthralled by the woman who’s been haunting my dreams since the first moment I saw her. My mind drifts back to my shower this morning when I jerked off to images of her in my mind and experienced the most intense orgasm of my fucking life as my cock grows hard again. It’s so much more than that, though.

Yeah, I’d do just about anything to get this sexy, bold woman underneath me but whenever I think about that being it, about ending it after one night like I always do, an unexplainable panic rises up in me. And although I’ve spent a fair amount of time picturing her naked, I also imagine taking her out on a proper date. In my mind, she’ll wear a dress that hugs her lush curves and teases me with all the possibilities once we get back to her house and the soft glow of candlelight will shine in her eyes as she breaks my balls about something stupid.

“Fuck,” I mutter, tossing the tablet in the passenger seat of the van before glancing up at her house. I’m losing my fucking mind over this woman. It’s not me and I’m in so fucking far over my head. Maybe, when this is all over, I’ll finally spend a night screwing her brains out and all this shit will pass so I can get back to my life.

Grabbing the tablet again, I scroll through the cameras until I find all four girls back in the living room with full wine glasses.

“Fuck Valentine’s Day,” Willow, one of Tate’s friends, says, holding her glass up in the air and Mia does the same.

“Here, here.”

Tate thrusts her glass above her head, almost spilling it on the white couch before pulling it back down and chugging half of it. My brow shoots up and I watch her as she leans back in the couch, a frown etched into her face. What the hell is up with her tonight?

A large part of me wants to jump out of this van and run in there to make sure she’s okay but I can’t do that. Damn it, this is so complicated. What happens when she finally finds out that I’ve been lying to her and spying on her all this time? She’ll hate me. The thought makes my chest ache and I rub over my t-shirt, trying to make it go away.

“Tate, what’s up with you tonight?” Lexi asks and I perk up, turning the volume up all the way on the tablet.

She shakes her head. “Nothing.”

“Uh, yeah right. Something is definitely wrong with you,” Mia says, plopping down next to her on the couch and pushing her hair out of her face. My fingers itch to do the same and I blow out a breath.

“It’s stupid.”

A wry smile stretches across Mia’s face. “Oh, so it’s a guy then.”

Tate nods but doesn’t say anything. I know she’s talking about me, though, and the thought that I’ve caused her any upset doesn’t sit well with me. Or maybe it’s not me. Is it possible that she’s been talking to someone else, too? The thought makes me growl.

“Is it the guy you had lunch with yesterday?”

Tate pushes her hand away and grabs her wine glass off the end table, chugging the rest before setting it on the end table. “It’s been so fucking long since I’ve felt like this about anyone and when I do, he’s the worst possible guy for me.”

I toss the tablet across the car and it hits the window before landing with a thump on the passenger seat. Thank God for the case Streak insisted I put on it.

“How is he the worst guy for you?” someone asks and as much as I want to turn it off, I can’t force myself to reach across the van and do it.

“Yeah, I mean, I wouldn’t say no to that yummy man,” Mia says. “That bad boy vibe just does it for me.”

“Me, too,” Tate adds. “That’s the problem. After high school and the pregnancy scare, I told myself when I decided to date again, I would pick a better guy. The kind of man that wouldn’t lie to me or cheat on me, the kind that would treat me like his whole world.”

I reach across the van, grabbing the tablet because I can’t not look at her any longer.

“And this guy can’t be that?”

“He’s the type that never sleeps with a girl more than a couple times and calls them all “baby” or “sweetheart” because he can’t be bothered to remember their names. He’s the kind of guy that always got me in trouble before and I want more than that now.”

Her words are spot on and they hit a mark she didn’t even realize she was aiming for. I suck in a breath, fighting back the memories but they flood in anyway – reminding me why I promised myself I would never get serious with a woman again. If I close my eyes, I can still smell the scent of that little church packed full of flowers as I stood in front of family and friends, waiting for a bride that was never coming.

My phone rings, snapping me out of my daze, and I turn the volume on the tablet down so I can answer it and drop it in the seat next to me. My baby sister Rowan’s name pops up on the screen and I groan.

“What do you want?” I ask, sounding annoyed despite the smile on my face.

“Well, it’s nice to talk to you, too, old man. Happy Valentine’s Day. You spending it with someone special?”