Consumed (12 page)

I feel unnerved that his friend saw Selena and I at the club. It seems everyone has an eye on someone in this city. What confuses me the most is the fact that Seth is worried about me. It seems awfully uncharacteristic for a guy that appears to avoid his feelings and only wants sex from me which, by the way, I tried to give him. Am I the only one that can’t make sense of this entire situation? I wonder if the reason he’s been in such a bad mood today is because of me.

“Why?” I ask straight out. No bullshit.

“Because you’re a good girl.”

I roll my eyes. There’s that fucking word again.

Seth’s voice darkens at my eye rolling. “Do you know what happens to naive, good girls that pass out in clubs?”

“Maybe you have the wrong idea about me...maybe I’m not as good as you want me to be.”

He tosses his wraps the floor, his eyes flaring. “I don’t want you to be good. I want you to be bad so I can do all the things I’ve wanted to do to you since I saw you and not feel fucking guilty about it.”

“I was bad, remember? You still rejected me.”

He grabs my waist, pulling me into him. I press my gloves against this chest and try to back away, but his grip is tight. My face is calm, but inside my body is going haywire.

“No, you were
trying
to be bad, but you’re not.” His hand travels up my side and caresses my cheek. A glimmer of sorrow fills his eyes and I frown. “I was determined to have you, but then I ran into you at the steakhouse and I couldn’t do it. You were sitting there all nervous and uncomfortable with your cute book and—” He exhales, removing his hand from my cheek and running his hands over his face. “Besides, I’m still not one hundred percent sure you even wanted me that night or if you were trying to get back at your ex.”

His quiet, vulnerable words stole the air from my lungs. Yes, I
was
trying to prove a point that night, but not to Blade—to myself. I wanted to see if I was capable of being fun and spontaneous. I almost succeeded until Seth decided to develop morals.

“I did want you.” My voice is barely audible—almost breathless, but he hears it loud and clear. Seth’s hand caresses my hip bone and I close my eyes. I
do
want you. The words fall silently to the back of my mind. A warm feeling floods me, almost filling me completely as a need throbs between my legs. I hang my head.
What the hell am I doing?
I should be shielding myself from this beautiful man because if I let him in, he will hurt me...but why does it feel so good, so comforting? His calloused hand grazes across my neck and then along my jaw. I let out a slow exhale as he tilts my head upward and I open my eyes.

“Why you do this to me?” I demand.

“What?”

“Touch me and act like you give a shit?”

He frowns and his tongue abruptly glides across his bottom lip. I realize he has no idea why he’s always on my heel. My gaze flickers over his face, waiting for him to answer me, but he never does.

“Isn’t this a strange turn of events.” My dad’s voice rings through the room and I immediately jump away from Seth. Any feeling of desire dissipates as his sudden entrance shakes some sense back into me. I’m annoyed at myself. Why am I so Goddamn weak? I can feel Seth watching me, feeling no embarrassment that my dad is here.

“My daughter with a fighter? Who would have guessed?” Dad’s smiling, of course. A promising fighter is probably the only guy he’ll approve of.

“I’m not
with
him.” I state proudly. “He just doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself.”

The same cocky smile I witnessed when I first saw Seth spreads over his lips and I feel my cheeks heat up. “Dinner is at seven, I’ll pick you up.” Is his only retort.

I open my mouth to decline, but Dad chimes in for me. “That sounds great. Let me know how it goes.” He turns his attention to Seth. “Darryl is kicking my ass. We need to resume training.”

Seth nods and I floor it from the training room, pissed. When all of his people are back in the room and the door is shut, Selena launches herself at me, gushing like an idiot.

“Oh my God!” She squeals into my shoulder. She pulls back and watches me eagerly. “He is a fucking animal!”

“Tell me about it.” I can’t seem to straighten out the crease in my forehead and Selena notices my frustration.

“What’s wrong? Are you mad because I accidently told your dad about the roofie thing?”

“That’s part of it.”

“O, I’m sorry, jeez. Relax a little. He’s clueless. He had no idea what I was talking about.”

“Luckily...” If my dad knew what a roofie was he’d drag me back to the house and never let me leave.

“Seth is so...” Her swift change of subject doesn’t go by unnoticed. “God, did you see him?”

“Yeah, I saw him Sel, I’m not blind.”

She glowers at me and crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m sorry, did Seth jam a stick up your ass in there because you’re being a total bitch right now.”

I slam my fists into the bag, not following any rhythm just punching with pure frustration. “Sorry,” I mange to breathe after a combo. “It’s Seth. He gets on my nerves.”

“What’d he do?”

“He thinks he’s taking me to dinner. I don’t want to go.”

Selena stares at me wide eyed and mouth agape like I’m the biggest moron she’s ever met.

“Um, okay...” She slips in between me and the bag, clenching her chest so I don’t punch her in the boob. “Are you dumb? Hello?! That guy is sex on legs. You have to go, if not for yourself then go for me!”

I swipe the glove over my forehead to clear some sweat, only the material spreads it instead of absorbing it.

“He’s like a big Popsicle of sugar and we girls are ants just dying for a taste. One day the popsicle comes down to our ant hill looking all sugary and irresistible and he invites one small ant to come suck on him and get as much sugar as she wants, but the ant declines and we’re looking at her like, what the fuck and—”

“Okay,” I laugh, cutting off her story. “I think I get it.”

“Good. So, what are you going to do?”

I wipe the glove over my forehead again and pant slightly. “Well, I’m not going to stand the guy up. I know how that feels.”

She squeals, drawing attention to us. “You’re going to get some sugar!”

***

I’ve changed my outfit about a million times already and Seth is meant to be here any minute. First, I cycled through four maxi-dresses, but decided they were too safe so I moved onto jeans and sweaters. A few more minutes pass and I have no choice but to wear a pair of skinny jeans with a small pair of black heels. I throw down the lilac sweater and kick it into the cupboard. Purple and any variation of the color didn’t sit well with my white complexion. I pull a black lacy top from the depths of my wardrobe, cursing myself for being slack on the washing. It’s a sleeveless, high cut top, stopping just before my neck. The solid fabric covers my stomach and my breasts. From the breasts up is lace, giving off a sophisticated, but not too good kind of look. I smile to myself and enter the bathroom. I blow dry and straighten my hair with no problems and the second I finish my make up there’s a firm knock at the door that pulls me all the way over to it. I straighten my jeans and flick my hair over my shoulders. Moisture floods the palm of my hands and I feel nauseous. Oh God. What am I doing? I grasp the handle and open the door. Seth leans against the railing, toying with the car keys in his hand. I breathe a subtle sigh of relief when I see that he’s dressed casually in a black sweater that’s rolled up to his elbows. He looks so deliciously handsome and my insides flutter. His eyes rake my skinny jeans and lacy top with approval. A gentle breeze pushes his scent in my direction and it engulfs me. It’s pleasantly alluring—nothing like the body spray Blade used to use. I clear my throat nervously and step out of my house, closing the door behind me.

“You look good.” He says, smiling up at me.

Jesus. We haven’t even left my house yet and I already want to throw myself at him.

“You didn’t like the dress I wore the other night?” I tease.

“I see those kinds of dresses all the time.” His hand wraps around mine and the gesture causes my heart to race. “Sometimes more is less.”

He aids me down the stairs and I try to control my pulse under his touch. Seth doesn’t strike me as a hand holder which brings me to my next question, what’s he playing at? He doesn’t do girlfriends and for someone who’s worried I can’t separate my emotions from sex he’s sure doing his best to work his way under my skin. He opens the car door for me, like he had the night at the club and I climb in. Seth shuts the door and jumps in the driver’s seat before pulling away from my apartment.

The drive to the restaurant is brief and I cringe when we roll into Salsa’s car park. It hurt my facial muscles to keep a polite smile on my face. I never want to eat Mexican again, ever.

I slide from the car and we walk into the restaurant, hand in hand. We’re immediately seated in a secluded spot by the back corner and hidden away from appraising eyes. It seems a lot of people know who Seth is and the stares unnerve me. I slide my black clutch onto the table next to me as a young girl comes and takes our order. Seth orders a large plate of shredded beef tacos, a salad and a side of Mexican fries for us both. When she leaves, his attention is solely on me and I play with my fork, twisting it with my fingers, pretending I’m not bothered by his enthralling gaze. Seth seems a little anxious, his chest rising and falling a little quickly and every few minutes he rakes his teeth over his bottom lip.

“You’re probably wondering why I invited you to dinner.” He says, eventually.

The waitress comes back and she places two glasses on the table, filling them with water. Seth leans back in his chair, making himself at home and his index finger slowly caresses the lip of the glass. I nod my head.

“I’m trying to make it up to you.”

Nervously, I reach for my glass and bring it to my lips. Sadly, the cold water doesn’t do anything to ease the fire burning inside me. “For what?”

“It seems you’ve had a hard week and I probably made it worse.”

“You did.” I reply. I really don’t want to sound like a bitch, but for some reason I can’t shake it. Being back in this restaurant makes me anxious. He leans forward in his chair.

“Look, you can’t keep holding a grudge against me because I didn’t sleep with you and before your girl brain over-thinks what I’m saying—you’re not ugly, you’re not fat and it’s not because you threw yourself at me.” I scowl at him and the corner of his lips twitch before turning serious again. “If I let you have me I’m almost certain you wouldn’t be able to handle me—you don’t even know me and look how angry I make you. I’m a mess. I’m stubborn, selfish, spoiled and a little too proud. I act like I don’t give a fuck—and most of the time I don’t, but there’s a small portion of me that cares too much and for some reason...you fall into that portion. Don’t ask me why because I have no idea and it has been driving me fucking insane.” He leans back in his chair and produces a toothpick from his pocket. He shoves it into his mouth and works it while he thinks. Before he speaks his brows pull together. “I can’t have good...because I don’t deserve good.”

I frown a little, but I never take my eyes off him. So this whole thing is really about him, not me? Why do I fall into that portion? Why does he care about me? From where I’m sitting, he seems so vulnerable and young.

“I keep touching you because I can’t stop and like I’ve said before, I will hurt you and soon it’s going to be
you
that has to tell
me
to back off because my resistance is running out.” His eyes narrow in. “If you don’t push me away and you decide to let me in... Remember that I don’t do girlfriends and I don’t do feelings. If you get hurt, it’s on you. Not me.”

The weight of his words rest on my chest and I’m frustrated that he thinks I’d let him in after everything he just said. Maybe I should tell him to back off now...that would save me the trouble of doing it when he decides to let himself go after me.

“I don’t want to be one of those girls.” I say quietly. He raises an eyebrow and I continue. “The girls in the gym that come for you and you send them away... I don’t want to be one of them. You disrespect women.”

His eyes brighten and a wide smile spreads across his face. He genuinely finds what I said amusing. “No, I treat them how they want me to treat them. They want to fuck, so I fuck them. That’s it.”

“And if one of them wants more from you?”

“They’d have to be pretty special to change my stance on relationships.” He throws his toothpick onto the table. “No one has tried to get to know the real me, but I take full blame for that.”

“So tell me about the real you.”

He winks at me. “Nice try.”

“You brought me to dinner, but we can’t talk about you?”

He shakes his head. “I brought you to dinner to apologize and to give you a heads up. That’s all.”

I press the fork into my finger to relieve some of my anger. God! Why is this man so difficult?!