Blindsided (22 page)

I slam my fist into the dashboard. “Fucking asshole!”

“Agreed.” Jack slams on the breaks outside her house. “I don’t understand this feelings shit you seem to have going on, so I’m just gonna say don’t fuck up again. Maybe try giving her an orgasm. Chicks are way happier after an orgasm.”

I blink at him across the car. “You’re a dick.”

He laughs and I get out. He salutes me before driving away, and I walk up to the gates. Then I punch in the code and slip through the gap as soon as they open.

Was this driveway always so long?

Grace is leaving just as I reach the front door. I open my mouth, but she beats me to it.

“Yes, she’s in. No, she probably doesn’t want to see you. And, honey?” she whispers, stepping forward. “Don’t believe everything you read.”

She kisses my cheek and leaves the front door open. A small smile twitches her lips as a black car rumbles up the drive. I stare at her.

“It’s open. Your choice.” She smiles wider and gets into the car, turning to face the front.

My choice. Like there’s a choice other than walking through that front door and staying until Leah sees sense. Until she sees that she’s…something…to me.

I close the front door behind me and check every room downstairs. It’s empty, so I take the stairs two at a time. Then I knock on her bedroom door twice, and when there’s no answer, I shove it open.

“Leah?”

“Corey?”

I turn around. She’s standing in the doorway of her room at the end of the hall, her space, and as soon as my eyes meet hers, she steps forward. The door slams behind her, and she fumbles with a key to lock it.

“What are you doing here?” She doesn’t move from the end of the hall. Even wearing sweatpants and a tank top, her hair shoved messily on top of her head, she’s fucking beautiful.

“Who was that? Last night?”

“It isn’t your business.” She puts the key in her pocket, the shake of her hand betraying her calm words.

“It is. It’s every bit my fuckin’ business.”

“You decided it had nothing to do with you when you walked away from me, so no, it isn’t, thank you.”

I cross the hall in three long strides and stop in front of her. “You’re mine, Leah, so you’ll find that it is my business. Now, who the fuck was it?”

“Not. Your. Business,” she repeats, her eyes steady on mine.

My lips crush to hers, my hand cupping her jaw. Her body jolts, and I step forward, pinning her to the door. She raises her hands to push me away, but I grip her wrists and flatten her hands against the door. The whole time, our mouths move together, desperately, fervently.

“Tell me again that it isn’t,” I growl quietly. “Go on.”

“It isn’t!” She fights my hold and I let her go. She steps around me and walks to her room. “None of me is your business. Not my mind, not my body, not my actions. You walked away, Corey. You made that decision.”

“You told me to go!”

“Well, you weren’t supposed to!” she yells, turning back to me. “You weren’t supposed to fucking leave. You were supposed to tell me to shut up, that you were sorry, that you didn’t mean it. Damn it!” She slaps her hand against the door and turns to it. Then she rests her forehead against the wood. “You were supposed to tell me that you care.”

I stare at her, leaning hopelessly against the door. I’m fucked if that’s what ‘Go. Get out. Leave now,’ actually means. ‘Cause, shit…

“You think I don’t care?”

“How can you? The way you treated me…” She shakes her head. “I can’t, Corey. Every word you said proved to me that I really am just a toy to you. You don’t disrespect someone you care about.”

“So you went to find someone else. Is that how it works?”

“Yes!” She looks at me. “Yes. It is. Because when one guy is an asshole, there’s another nice one out there who will treat me right.”

The thought that she was with someone makes me sick. Physically fucking sick. I walk to her and pull her against me, burying my nose in the sweet softness of her hair.

“How are you so sure?” I ask quietly, lowering my mouth to her ear. “Did he make you feel like I do? Tell me, darlin’. Did his kiss set on your body on fire? Did he make you tremble with one touch? Did he run his hands all over your skin and skim his fingers up the insides of your thighs to your tight pussy? Did he make you breathless with pleasure? Did he make you feel even half as good as I do? Because if not, then he definitely isn’t fuckin’ treatin’ you right.”

“You couldn’t treat a sunflower right,” she breathes, keeping her eyes trained on the floor.

“You can’t give a flower an orgasm, darlin’.” I touch my mouth to her jaw. “You haven’t answered my question.”

“He can give me respect.”

“Still not answering my question.”

“I don’t know!” she snaps, finally looking up at me.

“Interesting. Why’s that?”

“Because he didn’t touch me!”

“Really? What a fuckin’ gentleman.”

“I stopped him, you asshole!” She shoves at my chest, but it fails. Instead, she wraps her fingers around my shirt. “I couldn’t do a damn thing because you pissed me off so badly.”

“You couldn’t do it because you’re mine.” I drop my face to hers. Our lips are a breath apart, so close that I can feel them brush when I speak. “You couldn’t do it because your body belongs to me. Every part of you belongs to me, Leah. You can’t do a goddamn fuckin’ thing unless it’s with me.”

“I hate you,” she whispers, turning her head away.

“But you’re still mine.”

“Then why did you go?”

“You told me to,” I answer. “You think I wanted to? You think I wanted to fuckin’ turn around and leave you, babe? You think it didn’t gut me to see you with tears in your eyes?”

“I think you didn’t care. You still don’t. That you’re here on some jacked-up level of your game.”

“I care about you, Leah. I care about you more than I’ve ever cared about anyone.”

She lets go of my shirt and puts some distance between us. “Prove it,” she says softly. “If you really do care, you’ll do whatever it takes to make me believe you. If you want me that badly, it won’t matter.”

Shit—if only she knew how much I want her. If only she could fathom for just one single fucking second how badly I want her.

“You owe me three days.” I brush my thumb down her cheek. “My original offer still stands. Except this time, I’m not promising to walk away. This time, you have to promise to leave. But only if you still don’t trust me. I won’t leave again.”

Leah swallows, and a long moment passes. “You have one week,” she whispers to the floor. “That was the deal. I’m not gonna make it easy for you, but you have your week. Then I can go.”

“You can go. But you won’t.”

Her eyes travel up my body to mine. “You’re so certain.”

“I believe in my epic powers of seduction and flawless charm.”

A smile tugs at her lips. “Not everything we believe is real.”

I grin and close the distance between us. “You’re right. But some things are, and this is one of them.”

“We’ll see.”

“We always do,” I murmur, covering her mouth with mine.

I
stare at my mom, furious at her. Just because Corey and I are talking again doesn’t mean she’s off the hook. I also don’t care that she’s scrambling for Tylenol because she had one too many glasses of champagne last night.

“Please stop looking at me like you’re my mother and I broke curfew,” she grumbles, shaking two pills from the bottle.

“I’m not, but you did,” I tease her, sipping my coffee. “You came in at seven a.m.!”

“Alex had some extra champagne and we decided it would be easier if I stopped over last night.”

“Riiiiiight. Easier. Is that what you call sex when you get old?”

Mom chokes on her water. “Leah!”

“Oh, whatever. I’m twenty-two. You stayed at your boyfriend’s house and got drunk. Mom, please. Don’t insult me.”

“You’re not supposed to say these things to me. I’m your mother.”

“I’m sorry.” I set my mug down and look at her innocently. “I hope you had a wonderful time with Alex last night. Cole tells me the spare bed is very comfortable.”

Mom’s lips twitch. “Don’t sass me, young lady.”

“I’m mad at you. I’ll sass you if I want to.”

“Mad at me? What for?” Her eyes twinkle.

“You know exactly what, you witch!” I grab a grape from my bowl and throw it at her. “Letting Corey in last night?”

“Right. But you’re friends now, aren’t you?”

“We’re not friends.”

“So you’re sleeping with him.”

“I thought we weren’t supposed to talk about sex.”

“Did he stay over?”

“Mom. Seriously.”

“Are you using condoms?”

“Mom!”

“Do you want me to stop by the drugstore for you?”

“They’re cheaper on Amazon, but whatever. Oh my God.” I cover my eyes. “Macey said so. Double whatever. This is so wrong!”

Mom laughs and sits opposite me. “See? It’s not nice.”

I look at her dead-on. “We’re not sleeping together, he went home around midnight, and there are condoms not being used in my nightstand. Okay?”

“Thank you. And for the record, I did not spend the night in Alex’s spare room.”

“Thanks, Mom. Now I have all kinds of sick images in my mind.”

“Well, at least we cleared everything up.” She nods. “But I won’t apologize for letting him in. He thought you came home with…”

“Liam.”

“Liam last night. You thought he didn’t care. He was there, and you got all of your drama out of the way. Now, maybe you’ll both stop playing around and just start dating.”

My laptop rings with a Skype call from Quinn. “We both know that dating Corey Jackson isn’t a good thing.”

“Who’s dating Corey Jackson?”

I look at the screen. “No one is. It’s just…hypothetical.”

“Awesome. So you had fun at Disneyland?”

“What the— Mom, did you tell him?”

“She didn’t tell me anything, darling. I worked it out all by myself. I love a good gossip rag, you know. They make wonderful toilet reading.” Quinn beams.

“It’s the morning for bad images, isn’t it?” I rub my hand down my face. “I assume that, since you’re calling, you finalized my designs.”

“I did.” He claps his hands. “I’m on my cell so I can show you them. Let me know what you think.”

The camera angle changes. I wave to Mom and she comes around the island to look over my shoulder.

Quinn focuses on the first outfit: a white, knee-length dress teamed with a dark jacket and brown scarf. Then the next: a pantsuit accented with elaborate stitching in the shape of a tree on the inner leg. Next, another dress, this time an evening gown, glittering with gems. A skirt teamed with a dark-brown leather jacket, a yellow necktie, and long boots.

I swallow. This… This is it. This is the product of my hard work over the last six years. This is what I stayed up late designing, what I dreamed about when I finally got to sleep. My own collection rolling out in front of me.

This is everything I won’t see in two weeks.