He’s still West—my tormentor, my worst nightmare.
Brushing the back of my hand over my hot, damp lips, my eyes fall closed. Even with everything he’s done and said fresh in my head, I still let this happen. It seems like as hard as I try not to become my mother, I’m more like the woman every day. I’d watched my dad walk all over her for years. And now, I’d just allowed West to do the exact same.
He steps back further, and I won’t even look at him. I hate myself enough already.
“You were right; one of us is weak,” he rasps. “But are you still sure it’s me?”
The lock on the door twists and my head is clear enough to understand exactly what just happened—the transfer of power. By allowing him to handle me this way, I’ve unwittingly made it clear that, even with all he’s done, I’m drawn to him.
He pulls the door open and then I’m alone.
If his goal was to make me see I ought to have hurled that particular insult into a mirror, right at myself, mission accomplished.
West
“That’s red-light number three you just ran,” Sterling points out, bracing a hand against the dashboard.
His words barely register, though, because … what the actual fuck just happened?
My intentions were clear-cut. I had one goal in mind—to teach Southside a lesson. But now, I’m sweating bullets, hoping she didn’t get the wrong idea, didn’t misunderstand me touching her like that.
Like … I enjoyed it.
This is the whole damn reason I never kiss chicks. They read way too much into things. I should’ve been smarter, thought things through.
Not to mention, she had me hard as a brick—a sign I’d let her inside my head. Deep. The loss of control happened almost the instant I tasted that sticky, orange-flavored gloss on her damn lips. As pissed as I am at myself, I’m aware of the fact that, if I didn’t know her secret, things would’ve gone a lot further than they did tonight. Right there, with her pinned against that wall, knowing her uncle and all the customers would be a few yards away listening.
“You owe me dinner.” Sterling’s gripe pulls me out of my thoughts. “Seeing as how you spazzed before we even got to order,” he added under his breath.
I know I just caused a scene, making my brothers clear out of the diner without explanation, but leaving was an absolute must. If I didn’t go right then and there, I couldn’t guarantee she wouldn’t have seen what kissing her had done to me.
I pegged her right; she’s pure poison. But I have the perfect remedy.
“I’m texting Joss,” Dane jumps in. “She says her mom cooked a huge dinner and we’re welcome to whatever we want.”
I hear him, but have something else in mind.
I’m already shooting a text of my own before answering him. “Can’t. Just made plans,” I reply. “Besides, her dad hates your ass. Remember?”
He doesn’t laugh when I do.
“Hate’s such a strong word,” he counters.
“Maybe, but it sure as hell isn’t the wrong word,” I say back. “You guys are on your own tonight, though. I’ll drop you off to get one of your cars.”
“Got other plans?”
I smile at Dane through the rearview mirror when answering, “Parker’s.”
Both he and Sterling laugh. “How’s that gonna work? She’s on crutches,” Sterling points out.
I take off into the intersection and shrug. “There’s nothing wrong with her mouth.”
Yeah, the head is terrible, but practice makes perfect. Even the worst can be great with the right teacher on the job.
Ten minutes later, my brothers are out of the car and I’m on my way to get Southside’s taste out of my mouth.
The best way I know how.
@QweenPandora: Attention, northsiders! Up for a little adventure? Well, strap the kids into the backseat and journey across town for the annual Southside Block Party tomorrow night! Never been? Now might be a good time to check it out, seeing as how we’ve recently made a south side connection of our own. Never know, things could get interesting in NewGirl’s neck of the woods.
Later, Peeps.
—P
Chapter 13
WEST
“Explain again why we’re spending a perfectly good Saturday night out there?” Sterling asks, slipping on a pair of brand-new kicks.
“Who cares why? Just think of all the photo-ops,” Dane cuts in, answering Sterling’s question before I have the chance.
And not at all in the way I would’ve answered it.
Joss rolls her eyes from the armchair beneath my window, shaking her head at Dane’s vain ass.
“Do you make any life decisions without thinking about selfies?” she asks.
Gazing at himself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror opposite my bed, Dane smooths his eyebrows. “I gotta give the people what they want,” he teases, knowing it’ll get under Joss’s skin.
It does. She stands, pushes both hands down the front of her jean shorts, deciding she’s had enough of us already.
“I’ll be down in the car when you three prima donnas are done getting ready for the ball,” she says with a playful sigh. “Not being the prettiest girl in the room is getting kinda old.”
We laugh, but the moment she passes to walk into the hall, Dane’s eyes are lustfully glued to her in those tiny shorts, taking it all in.
“I don’t know why you don’t just hit that already,” I say with a sigh.
He faces the mirror again, fixing his collar.
“It’s simple,” he reasons. “I refuse to be the asshole to ruin something so perfect.”
His honesty catches me off guard and I pause, rolling the sleeves of a black button-down to my elbows. “Well, damn. I think that’s the realest thing you’ve ever said.”
“Which is fuckin’ sad,” Sterling chimes in, shoving his wallet into the pocket of his jeans.
Then, we’re ready.
I kill the lights in the penthouse on our way to the elevator. It’s not until the doors close and seal us in that Sterling revisits his earlier question.
“So, we’re slumming it on the crap side of town for … what
