Perfect Regret ( BOOK 2) (11 page)

Garrett sat down across from me and Cole poured him a beer, which he accepted with a thanks before finishing it in one gulp. Vivian gave him a one armed hug, which he returned easily. I was the only one with my awkward hat on, feeling all kinds of socially dysfunctional.

“Good job,” I finally interjected because I couldn’t stand the thick layers of discomfort a moment longer. It wasn’t Garrett’s discomfort. It was clear he couldn’t give a shit whether I was here or not. The discomfort was mine alone and I thought I was going to gag on it.

Garrett looked at me over the rim of his mug as he took a drink of beer number two. His blond eyebrow arched as he set the glass down on the table. I gave him a weak impression of a smile. “Really, that was great. I wish you guys played that kind of music all the time. I might actually start to enjoy your shows,” I said, hoping my lack of composure could be hidden by a hefty dose of sarcasm.

Garrett didn’t respond, he only stared at me, his face void of all emotion. No verbal joisting. No snappy comeback. No barely laced annoyance. Just a big heap of nothing. And that bugged me…a lot.

I was starting to hate the lack of anything resembling an expression on his face.

Mitch took pity on the gaping sea of disquiet brewing between his bandmate and me and rustled my hair. “No way, Riley. We have an image as hardcore bad asses to protect,” he said and I smiled at him in appreciation. A silent thank you for rescuing me from Garrett’s icy attack of silence.

“Of course, can’t forget about the all important bad assery,” I agreed, my eyes flicking back to Garrett who had turned away from me. Like I wasn’t even there.

“I really dug that Perfect Regret song, dude. Is that new?” Jordan asked Garrett, who gave him a shy smile. See, there it was again! That lovely, unguarded side of Garrett that I wanted to wrap in a blanket and cuddle to death.

“Yeah, it’s new. I’ve been messing around with the chords for a while. But I just wrote the lyrics a few weeks ago,” Garrett told Jordan, his eyes flickering to me briefly before sliding away.

Ha! I knew it! That damn song was totally about me! Wait a second. I thought back over the lyrics and started to feel more than a little pissed off. Because as far as songs go, that one wasn’t the most flattering he could write. In fact, it sounded more like a great big musical kiss off.

Well, forget him!

The truth was Garrett and I had never gotten along. But at least before our disastrous tumble in the sheets and subsequent almost romantic moment we had been able to coexist. Even if that meant it was the acknowledgement of one another through a series of barbs and insults.

The frosty snubs and hateful songs weren’t something I was okay with. It made me feel as though I had done something wrong. And I didn’t like questioning my choices on any level. I had done enough of that recently, I sure as hell wasn’t willing to start again over Garrett.

So I spoke to everyone
but
Garrett. And Garrett looked at everyone
but
me. The effort to pretend that there wasn’t this gigantic elephant in the room was exhausting. I knew by around midnight that I was done. I needed to go home and regroup. Mostly I just needed to sleep and wake up feeling like Riley Walker again.

I knew Maysie wasn’t ready to leave. She was most likely going back to Garrett and Jordan’s. I patted my jeans pockets and realized I must have left my cellphone in Jordan’s truck. “Hey Jordan, can I have the keys. I left my phone on the seat,” I asked. Jordan tossed me his keys and I hurried out of the bar.

Once I had my phone, I started looking up numbers for local cab companies. The sound of footsteps crunching on gravel made me look up. Garrett was headed toward me with his guitar case in hand. He stopped several feet in front of me and dropped the case to the ground. Shoving his hands into his jeans pocket he regarded me levelly.

“Guess you’re headed home,” he stated.

Wow, he was talking to me. What had I done to deserve such a privilege?

I continued to scroll through the taxicab listings, ignoring Garrett just as I had been ignored all evening. Hey, maturity is over rated.

“Cat got your tongue?” Garrett asked, his words sharp enough to cut.

I looked up at him, my mouth curling in sardonic disdain. “Oh I’m sorry, you’re right, ignoring someone is extremely rude.”

Garrett snorted and then gave me the sort of feral grin that was more a baring of teeth than anything else. “You just have to bust my balls, don’t you? Is it so hard to be pleasant?” he asked harshly. The veins on the side of his neck were bulging and I could tell he was pissed.

“And you just have to be an annoying assmunch, don’t you? Why do I get the feeling I’m being punished for something? If I’ve upset your sad excuse for male pride, please let me know,” I said just as hatefully.

Garrett took a step forward and I moved back, pressing myself into Jordan’s truck door. “If I wanted to punish you, Riley, I’d put you over my knee and spank the shit out of you. A red ass is the least of what you deserve,” he said, his voice dropping an octave, his eyes which had been coldly observing me, had turned hot enough to burn.

“What I deserve? I’m not the one who took advantage of drunk girl in a state of total vulnerability. The whole thing is predatory. You should be ashamed of yourself,” I said fiercely. My words seemed to shock Garrett because he stopped his slow advancement, his face blanking.

“Is that what you think? That I took advantage of you?” he asked softly and I knew the idea that I actually thought that hurt him. Hurt him deeply and that softened the hard layer around my heart just a smidge.

Garrett pushed his messy hair back off his forehead in a gesture I was coming to find meant he was flustered. “Shit, Riley. I was drunk. You were drunk. It happened. I never meant to take advantage of you. I just thought” he stopped abruptly and I knew that I needed to hear what he was going to say.

“Thought what?” I demanded, my tone leaving no room for refusal.

Garrett looked at the ground and I found his sudden unsurety disconcerting. Garrett was a confident guy. This person in front of me was decidedly uncertain.

“I don’t know. I thought you wanted to be with me. What a fucking joke that was. I should have fucking known better,” he laughed bitterly and bent to pick up his guitar case. His shoulders were tense and he wouldn’t look at me. Somehow, someway I had laid this man low and I felt an immeasurable amount of guilt about it.

“Come home with me,” I said and I wanted to bite my tongue. Where the hell had that come from? What was wrong with me? This was so not what I needed. This was not good for me in any way. But right now, this is what I
wanted
and that trumped any sense I had of adhering to my status quo.

I knew that my friend wanted him. That she was making a play for the very guy I was proposing to come home and knock boots with. Where was my sense of loyalty and friends before hos or whatever? I was being a slut. But I wanted this man to make me dirty.

Garrett’s head snapped up in total shock. “Excuse me?” he asked, staring at me as though I had been speaking gibberish. Oh god, I wish I had been speaking gibberish. Because I couldn’t take it back now. And that sick, masochistic, seriously deluded side of me didn’t want to. Because it had officially taken me over. There was no other explanation for the complete personality transplant I was experiencing.

All I knew was that he had touched a nerve. His earlier admission exposed a side of him I would never have thought existed and it struck a chord in me. He was again that boy in his living room, telling me I was beautiful.

I wanted him. Tonight. And I couldn’t think beyond that. The implications of my choice would have to wait for another day. Because something else was guiding my decisions right now. And it wasn’t my head.

I stepped into his personal space, not touching him, but close enough that I could if I wanted to. “Come home with me. Just one more night. I want to know if throwing away my morals was worth it,” I said wishing the words had sounded a little less prudish. But whatever, I sort of was a prude.

Garrett laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Are you serious?” he asked after quieting down.

“As a heart attack,” I replied. Part of me knew he could reject me outright and make me look like a complete and total ass. But staring into his blue eyes I knew he wouldn’t. He wanted this, whatever it was, as much as I did.

He pulled out his keys and nodded his head in the direction of his van. “Come on then,” he said. He didn’t take my hand. He didn’t say another word, just headed to his vehicle, leaving me the choice to follow him or not.

You bet I followed him.

C
learly this whole no strings attached sex thing was a lot less awkward when you were falling down drunk. Or maybe it was just as awkward and I thankfully couldn’t remember any of it. I didn’t know what to say. Sure I had initiated this, but now that Garrett and I were heading to my apartment I felt like a tool.

I didn’t do casual sex. Every time I had been intimate with someone (not counting the guy who would be jumping into my hotbox in a matter of minutes) I had been in love, or at the very least, committed to them. It wasn’t in my psyche to be able to handle a quick round of wam-bam-thank-you-ma’am.

Case in point, the utter shitfest I had created after sleeping with Garrett the first time. So why, do you ask, was I allowing myself to slide vagina first back into another emotional landslide? Oh because I had somehow morphed into an absolute idiot. I was now a chick obsessesed with her own destruction apparently.

Because that was what the Garrett Bellows sexcipades promised.

My ruin.

Was I being overly dramatic? Perhaps. But there was something in the way I felt with Garrett that took me out of my comfort zone and thrust me, without preamble, into the cold, hard world of lust and want. I had
never
been ruled by my hormones.

I wasn’t a girl who made life decision based on what was going on between her legs. But Garrett made all sense of logic take a flying leap out the window. Or maybe it was the person I had slowly been turning into since Damien had dumped me. I felt a change at a molecular level that was both unsettling and exciting.

Garrett parked in front of my apartment building and shut off the engine. He looked over at me and I was thankful I couldn’t see his face in the dark. I was already humiliated with the way I had suggested this whole thing.

“You sure?” he asked me. This was my moment. My chance to back out and return to the place where our one time indiscretion had been a fluke. Because if we did this, it changed things. I couldn’t go back to pretending I had made a choice based on alcohol and the need for a rebound.

Because tonight, I was stone cold sober. And while I still felt the aftermath of my heartache, this would be no rebound bang.

This time I would be dancing the horizontal mambo because
I
wanted to and for no other reason. Because I was attracted to my complete antithesis. The guy who up until a month ago, I wanted nothing to do with but now had slithered his way under my skin. He was like a freaking parasite, sucking away everything but the desire to get him naked.

Could I flip my world on its axis like that? Was I ready for the fallout?

I opened the passenger door. “Come on,” I said shortly, getting out. I headed up the stairs, not waiting to see if he was following me. Because I knew he was. And it had nothing to do with confidence or being self-assured. Nope, it had everything to do with basic chemistry and knowing despite everything, Garrett and I had that in spades.

Stupid chemistry. It had always been my least favorite subject.

Maysie’s ex-whatever, Eli Bray, was sitting outside his cousin Randall’s apartment as I headed down the hallway. He raised his hand in greeting and then he looked behind me at the person who was obviously following me.

Eli looked at me again and opened his mouth to speak. “Say a word and I will staple your mouth shut,” I warned, causing him to close his lips. I didn’t need any of his bullshit right now. I didn’t like him; I didn’t want to talk to him. I just wanted to get into my apartment and get my freak on before I chickened out.

I stopped in front of my door and fumbled with my keys. Garrett’s hand came into my field of vision and took them from my trembling hand and slowly put the key in the lock. He pushed against the door, opening it. His front pressed against my back and I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath.

Let’s do this thing!

I turned around and grabbed Garrett by the front of his shirt and gave it a tug as I moved backwards into my dark living room. I didn’t turn on any lights; I just continued to tug Garrett as I moved toward my bedroom.

I kicked open the door and pulled him inside. “What am I doing? Why am I doing this?” I said under my breath as Garrett took me in his arms and placed one solitary kiss on the underside of my jaw.

We stood there for an endless moment, breathing deeply as though readying ourselves for this step we were about to take. I wish I could explain why this felt monumental. Why it felt as though I were about to jump out of a plane without a parachute.

But everything, every look, every touch, every heartbeat felt full of purpose.

And it made me want to scream.

I didn’t want purpose.

I didn’t want meaningful.

I wanted this man to screw my brains out. I wanted him to pull my hair and show me who was boss.

I wanted to forget the perfect linear thoughts in my head and rush headfirst into the irrational.

But it didn’t stop the way my heart thudded in my chest to an uncertain rhythm…one that only Garrett could play.

Garrett kissed the side of my mouth, his lips lingering near mine. “We’ve found something in each other that we want. Hell if I understand why. Out of all the fish in the sea, I had to hook you. One giant, snarly toothed piranha ready to bite my fingers off.” I had to laugh at his rather poetic description of me. Even if it was mildly insulting. Garrett placed his mouth on mine and I found myself parting my lips to let him inside.

His tongue swept along the bottom curve of my lip and I shuddered with the intensity of this moment. His hands gripped the bottom hem of my shirt and swept it up and over my head. He then discarded it on the floor as he touched my now naked skin almost reverently. His fingers glided up the side of my rib cage, taking in the soft contours of my body in the barest breath of a touch.

Our lips moved together in tandem, our tongues a tangled throbbing mass of need as we struggled to breathe through the heat of our kiss. He hooked his fingers underneath the straps of my bra and brought them down my shoulders. He broke off our kiss suddenly and dropped his mouth to my shoulder, tasting my flesh as he expertly traced my collarbone. He had done this many times before. But I couldn’t focus on that; I just had to reap the benefits.

Pulling away, Garrett looked down at me. I could barely see him in the shadow and that somehow made the whole thing that much more intimate. But I didn’t want intimate.

Did I?

He lifted my hair and swept it over my shoulder. His lips burned my skin as he kissed the sensitive skin of my neck. I felt suddenly panicked.

“We can’t do this! I can’t even stand you!” I said in a thready voice as I felt the tip of his tongue glide along the outside of my ear.

Garrett’s eyes smoldered as he scrutinized my heightened anxiety. He moved his hands to the button of my jeans and deftly opened them, slowly lowering the zipper. He shoved the resisting fabric down past my hips, his fingers grazing my legs as he knelt in front of me. He pulled my pants off my feet and dropped them to the side. He wrapped his hands around calves and gave them a tug, so that I was spread above him. He looked up at me as he slowly brought his lips to the inside of my thigh, less than inches away from my hot, molten center.

My legs began to shake when he turned his attention to the other leg, placing his soft lips just above my knee. He rose to his feet and cupped the side of my face in a manner that was more loving than lustful.

It confused me. It bewildered me. It left me wanting so much…
more…

“I can’t stand you either,” he said and I knew without a doubt he was lying.

“Your mouth just doesn’t know when to stop. The shit that you say makes me want to strangle you,” his voice was low and rough as he cupped my breasts. His thumbs rubbing my aching nipples.

Garrett leaned down so that his lips brushed against mine again. Our breath was coming in short, erratic bursts. “I don’t particularly
like
you, Riley. But right now I want to
fuck you,”
he growled. The soft lover from moments before was gone and in his place was a ferocity that unfurled a wet heat deep in my belly.

My fingers curled into his hair and I pulled with enough force to make him wince. “You’re an asshole,” I whispered, not trusting my voice at the moment. Garrett emitted a low groan as I yanked on his hair again. I bit his bottom lip, pulling it into my mouth.

“And I
want
you to fuck me. I want to remember it this time,” I said raggedly. Garrett gripped the back of my head, holding me in place as his mouth slammed down on mine. Any pretense at gentleness was lost in the unbridled fury of our need. I
hated
him. I told myself this over and over as our mouths assaulted each other, bruising and tearing as we ate each other alive.

He made me want to rip my hair out. But goddamn it, I wanted to taste every single inch of him. And I knew by the frantic way he touched me that he felt the same way.

There was no more talking. No more excuses to stop. There was only Garrett and me and the sounds of flesh pressing together and noisy, desperate breathing. In a matter of seconds, I had Garrett’s shirt joining mine on the floor, followed by his jeans. Our mouths were fused together and our hands sought to explore every part of each other.

Garrett palmed my butt cheeks and hoisted me up so that I had to wrap my legs around his waist. The barrier of his thin boxer briefs was all that separated two very important parts of our anatomy. I wiggled, just slightly and he groaned low and deep in the back of his throat.

I wiggled my hips again, grinning against his mouth, feeling powerful in the way I affected him. Damien had never made me feel like I was the one with all the power. Our lovemaking was always calm and controlled and done with the intent of one, never both, of us getting off.

I had always thought it beautiful, the way it was supposed to be. But right now, with Garrett fitted between my legs, his mouth sucking, biting, loving every bit of skin he could reach, I knew the real beauty was in the surrender. Both of us giving up control to the other. It was a perfect expression of trust. Woah, when had I decided to trust Garrett? And when had he laid his at my feet?

Garrett sat down on my bed and I straddled his lap, rocking into him, wanting to appease the ache that threatened to blow me a part. I pulled my mouth away from his swollen lips and I threaded my fingers through his hair, pulling it back away from his face. I gazed down at his heavy lidded eyes blurred this time by lust rather than drugs. The straight length of his nose, the sharpness of his jaw, the tiny freckle under his left ear. Just a few months ago I would have told you that Garrett Bellows may be attractive in his own way but most definitely not my type.

But now…well…now was another story.

I was feeling entirely too mushy. I wasn’t looking for some sort of
Titanic
moment here. I was no fucking Rose and Garrett was most certainly not my Jack Dawson!

I had been excited for the change. Ready to do something reckless, something dangerous. But this was bordering on too much. And when things got hard, it was in my nature to shut them down. Decisively.

So I leaned down and bit his lip a bit more aggressively than Garrett was expecting.

“Ouch!” he yelped, pulling back with a jerk, his finger going to his mouth. Shit, I had drawn blood. That’s right! I’m one mean ass chick!

“What the hell, Riley?” he asked in genuine bewilderment.

“If I wanted soft and gentle, I sure as hell wouldn’t have asked you to come home with me,” I said harshly. I couldn’t get a handle on the conflicting emotions bubbling just under the surface. So what do I do? I pulled out the bitch card. When in doubt resort to what you’re good at.

Garrett’s eyes, which moments ago had been smoldering and capable of causing a level ten combustion, became so cold I thought I’d suffer from some serious frostbite.

“Are we back to this then?” he asked, his voice breaking just enough to know he was feeling a lot more than anger.

I tried to get off his lap but his hands clamped down on my hips, holding me in place. His fingers dug into my skin and I wondered whether I’d have tiny little bruises to remind me of how once again I was treating this guy like crap.

But try as I might I couldn’t stop. “I thought this is what you wanted,” I said icily, reaching down between us to squeeze the part of him that was still hard and ready for me. Garrett moved his hand to wrap around my wrist and yanked me away.

“No, what I wanted was a girl who could set aside her fucked up perceptions for just one night. The girl who could let go and be something she
wanted
to be rather than who she thought she
needed
to be,” Garrett snarled, his jaw clenched and angry.

He lifted me off his lap and set me down on the bed. He picked his jeans up off the floor and shoved his legs through them, his rage barely suppressed. So perfect time to throw some gasoline on the fire, right?

“I would think a guy like you would be used to a girl just wanting him for a fuck,” I taunted. God, what was wrong with me? Why was I saying this stuff?

Garrett’s back went ramrod straight, he was still turned away as he put his shirt on. I watched in lavicious interest as it fell down and molded to his back and narrow shoulders. I was some sick kind of messed up. Here I was, stomping all over his fragile male ego yet again, but I couldn’t stop ogling him like a piece of meat.

Garrett put his hands through his hair and he seemed to be getting it together. He had to be experiencing a major case of blue balls. If he felt half the ache that I did between my legs than he was in some serious discomfort.

Garrett pulled his keys out of his pocket and turned his head so I could just make out his profile. “Bye, Riley,” he said and then he left my room, closing the door quietly behind him.