Torn (Devils Wolves Book 1) (19 page)

I refuse to put my hands on her. "C'mon, Sydni. Do you really think you can do that? Be gone for months and not fool around with someone?"

"I think so. You can meet up with me every few weeks. That's what the other couples do."

The thought of flying around the country to meet with her in hotels for nights of sex and rushed dinners and conversations, only to come back home alone doesn't exactly fit into the plan I wanted for my future.

Her pink-stained lips press against my chest, her hands tightening around my neck. I close my eyes, willing myself to enjoy her touch like I used to, hoping to feel a spark. When Kenzi touches me, my heart feels like it's going to fly out of my chest. No matter where she touches me, even if it’s just my hand in an innocent way, I feel it everywhere. The euphoria of her spreads from my head to my toes, electrifying every inch in between, making me want to grab onto her and never let go. Her touch reaches right into my soul and friggin' owns me.

Why, why, why am I thinking about Kenzi when I have a gorgeous woman trying to climb me like a tree right now?

Sydni's mouth moves up to my neck, gently biting me, but the feelings don't come. My dick is bored, and so am I. I'm completely numb to her. Grabbing her hands in frustration, I pull her off me.

"What's wrong?" She comes back at me, reaching for my towel this time, but I push her away. Why are women always trying to pull my clothes off? I probably could make bank if I become a stripper at this point.

"I can't do this right now."

"Jesus, Toren. It's been months."

Hmm. It's been months for me, but I wonder how long it’s been for her.

"I don't care. I need some time to think first."

"So you'll think about giving us another chance?"

"Maybe," I reply, brainwashing myself so I'll forget about Kenzi. "Let's see if you can get through the entire tour without being with someone else. And when you get back home I want you to have a full STD panel done. Then we'll talk about maybe starting over. And that's a huge fuckin' maybe, Syd, because honestly, I just don't know if I can do this with you again."

She lets out an exasperated sigh. "Fine. If that's what it takes, I'll give it a shot."

I can't believe she needs to give not fucking other men
a shot.
Like it's going to be some kind of feat of extraordinary talent to keep her mouth and her legs closed until she can be with me, the guy she claims to love.

"Yeah, well I won't hold my breath."

"You don't have to be a jerk, Tor. I said I'd try," she rubs at her nose. "And what about this dog and cat? If we get back together, I'll be sneezing nonstop."

I reach down to pet Diogee, who's almost always at my side. "Then I guess you'd have to take an allergy pill. Or not come over. They're not disposable. This is their home."

"We'll see about that. I have a feeling if you have to choose between pussies, you'll choose mine." She says with a smirk.

I know she's joking, but I'm not seeing the humor in it. "One thing I've learned over the past few months is I can live without it, Syd. You don't have any power over me with that. So, the pets stay, no matter what."

I'm not sure why, but it's bugging me that she didn't even ask their names, or want to know how I saved them. She didn't sit on the floor and pet them, or show any interest in them at all. Unlike Kenzi, who treats this dog like royalty-brushing him, trimming his nails. and making him all natural peanut butter dog treats from some recipe she found on Pinterest. She even ate one herself first, to make sure it tasted good. If that's not love, I don't know what is.

Fuckin’ Kenzi, creeping back into my mind again. Always haunting me.

I
smile
at the framed photo of my parents that's on the night table on my mom's side of the bed. They're about fourteen and fifteen in this picture, and they're kissing, but smiling against each other’s lips. They look so young but also so much the same. It's my favorite photo of them.

"Mom, how did you know Dad was the one?" My eyes linger on the photo for a moment longer before turning to her. She's laying on her stomach at the end of their bed, writing in her journal as she does every night, her long blonde hair falling around the rims of her nerdy, yet trendy, red-framed glasses.

She chews on the end of her pen, her face lighting up as she's thinking about my dad. I love how much they love each other. Never fighting, always hugging and kissing, always whispering secrets to each other, and pulling each other closer for kisses. It's like they existed in their own little bubble of love and forgot the rest of the world existed.

"I just knew. I'd seen him around school and thought he was incredibly cute. But the first time we actually met face-to-face, he looked into my eyes with a dreamy smile and said 'Oh shit. There goes my heart'. We stayed in the park all day that day, just holding hands and talking. We found out we had a lot in common. Music, writing, the same foods and movies, the same fears and dreams. I felt like I had met the other half of myself. He walked me home at midnight, gave me my first kiss, and told me he could see his entire life in my eyes." She closes her journal, a big smile on her face. "Needless to say I fell totally head over heels in love with him and we've been inseparable ever since. My parents were less than thrilled, but nothing they could say or do could have kept me away from him."

"That's awesome," I say wistfully. "I want to fall in love like that someday."

She rolls over onto her back and stares at me, upside down, her hair hanging off the edge of the bed. It's easy to see how my dad was so easily taken by her playful eyes, loving nature, and beautiful smile. She's the kind of woman you just gravitate toward and want to be close to. She makes everyone around her feel loved and beautiful, just like my dad does. Together, they are the perfect fairytale couple.

"You will, baby. Don't ever settle or be afraid to love. I always want you to follow your heart, no matter what."

* * *

I
t's not even
eight a.m. yet and my phone is blowing up with text messages.

Chloe: Happy birthday to my girl! I love you!! Call me!

Rayne: 18 baby! Woot! Love ya, my little chickadee!

Sailor: Happy birthday, beautiful. Hope it's the best

Uncle Storm: I refuse to accept that you're 18. Stop it.

Uncle Talon: Happy birthday, sweetheart. See u soon. :-)

Uncle Lukas: Happy birthday little one. Stop by and I'll give you your first tat ;-)

Finn: 18 spankings, Kensington. My palm is waiting.

W
hen I meet
up with Katherine for breakfast on her private porch, she comes out with homemade waffles with whipped cream and strawberries with a candle in the middle, singing happy birthday. I blow out my candle and hug her, trying hard to hold back the tears I can already feel coming on again. On days like this, I miss my mother so much. In many ways she was more like a best friend to me, since we basically grew up together, and it rips my heart up that she's not here. I'm getting older now, and she's stopped, forever at twenty-nine.

"I have a surprise for you." Katherine says as we start eating breakfast. "A good friend of mine in town is a photographer, and she said she would love to come by and shoot with you and make a professional portfolio for you."

I swallow my bite of waffle, my interest piqued. "Wow, that would be amazing. I've been hoping to do some more modeling. Most of my shoots are from two years ago and I look so young."

"That's exactly what I told her. She does fashion, boudoir and weddings mostly, and she has a really great eye. I thought as a birthday present, I'll pay for her to do some different shoots for you. I showed her your prom photo because it's the most recent I had, and she thinks you're stunning. She's really excited to work with you."

"I'm excited, too. Maybe I should go into town later today and pick up some outfits to wear? I didn't bring much with me other than jeans and shorts. I'd like to pose in something nicer, maybe even a tiny bit sexy. What do you think? Do you think that would be okay? Or a big mistake?" I'm not sure I'm good at being sexy in any way but I know if I want to do some modeling, then I have to at least make an attempt. Chloe is always telling me to work what I've got but I seriously have no idea how to do that.

"I'll have Tina cover me and I'll go with you. I could use some time out of here myself. And I think something a little sexy but classy is fine. No nudity, though, please," she laughs. "You're eighteen now. I've seen some of Anna's work and she can make you look gorgeous and alluring without looking trashy. She does hair and makeup, too. Trust me, this is going to be fabulous and I think it will definitely boost your confidence once you see how beautiful you are."

* * *

T
hree hours
later I'm in a small boutique in town trying on lingerie for the first time in my life when I get a text from Toren.

T
or
: Happy birthday, my Angel. Hoping this year brings you nothing but happiness, love, and dreams come true. I've loved watching you grow up from an adorable, feisty little girl to the beautiful woman you are today. Your parents and I are so proud of you. Always remember how special you are, and no matter where life takes you, you'll always have all my love and support. xo

I
can't stop reading
his message, trying to decipher if these words are from the man who helped raise me or the man who kissed me like he wanted to devour me.

He's both.

Therein lies our dilemma. He'll never be one or the other. He'll always be both to me, just as I'm sure I'll always be both his best friend’s little girl and the woman he suddenly has unwanted feelings for. We're always going to be twisted up, caught in the web of our past and teased by the glimpses of what we
could
have been.

A knock on the dressing room door startles me and I nearly drop my phone. "Kenzi? Are you okay?" Aunt Katherine asks, her voice full of concern.

"Yes," I say through the door. "I was just adjusting the straps. I'll be out in a second."

T
aking a deep breath
, I type back.

M
e
: You had a huge part in helping me be the person I am today. You've been my rock since the day I was born. I will always and forever love you the most. xo

T
here's so much more
I want to say, but I don't let myself for fear of making him mad and uncomfortable again. I can picture him in my mind so clearly right now, sitting with his legs crossed on the floor of his shop in front of an old Harley, with his cell phone in his hand, smudged with grease, a faint crooked smile on his lips as he reads my text. He once told me those were his favorite words, and I hope he knows that over the years they have come to mean much more to me than they did when I first wrote them at seven years old.