Текст книги "Crazy Beautiful"

Автор книги: Penny Dee

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“Kiss me,” I whispered.

My body was on fire at the thought of what could happen beyond his bedroom walls.

He pushed himself away from me. “You have to go. You have to stay away from me. You’re too good for me.”

“Stop saying that. I’m not too good for you.” I was sick of hearing that bullshit.

“Yes you are. And if I don’t stop this now, it’s going to kill me that little bit more when you work it out.” His brow furrowed, as if just the idea hurt him. “It’s a self-preservation thing. Do you understand? If you care for me at all, you’ll go.”

“Heath, please …”

Yes, I was ready to beg.

“You have to go Harlow.”

His words were like cold water. He was serious. But …

Hot desire was quickly replaced by the heat of humiliation. I dropped my eyes to the floor and bit my bottom lip. Why the hell did I feel like crying?

When I looked up, I looked into a pair of pained eyes. He swallowed hard and the muscles in his jaw clenched. “You need to stay away from me,” he warned.

I was confused. I didn’t understand where any of this was coming from.

“Heath—”

“Just go … please …” He squeezed his eyes shut.

I bit my bottom lip to stop my chin from quivering. Then without a word I launched off the wall and disappeared out the door.

* * * * *

He was avoiding me. He wouldn’t answer my texts. He wasn’t waiting for me after work to drive me home. It was like he had disappeared off the face of the planet. I didn’t see or hear from him. He didn’t ring. He didn’t show up unannounced. I even rang his home phone and when Leigh answered he said, “Yeah, Heath’s here … er … no apparently he’s not. Sorry Harlow. Looks like the asshole is out.”

Over the week I experienced a range of emotions. At first I was annoyed by his unexpected rejection, insulted even, but this was quickly followed by a crushing sadness. Not seeing him made me realize how important he had become to my day-to-day happiness.

By Thursday I was overcome with an overwhelming irritation that he would just walk away from our friendship so easily.

By Friday I was pissed off.

But no matter how I felt, insulted, sad or irritated, it didn’t change the fact that I missed him. More than I could have imagined. And I wanted him back. He was my best friend. And I wasn’t going to let him just throw that away. I missed him. I missed him terribly.

I didn’t fully understand why he’d done what he’d done. One minute he was insisting he didn’t see me like he saw the other girls. The next, he had my back pressed against the wall, his mouth rhythmically working with mine in what had to be the most devastating kiss known to man.

And then, in a complete 360, he didn’t want anything to do with me.

No wonder women threw their drinks at him.

I gave up trying to work it out. I didn’t need to know. All I needed was for Heath to see how we belonged together as best friends, and to give up this ridiculous behavior.

On Saturday I found him at the gym, pummeling the hell out of a punching bag with relentless thrusts of his fists.

“What are you doing?” he asked, cautiously walking over to me. He was shirtless and his flawless torso gleamed with sweat.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Why are you here?”

His attitude towards me was rattling but I wasn’t going to let his cool demeanor scare me off.

“I want to know why you’re doing this, Heath?” I cocked my head slightly to the side. “You don’t answer my calls, my texts …”

“It’s been a busy week.”

I’m not a hysterical type of girl. So I wasn’t going to react to his obvious lie with anything other than calmness. I got straight to the point.

“Why are you treating me like this? How can you just cast me aside like … like all the others?”

He flinched, his brows drawing in, and took a quick step towards me. “It’s not like that. You’re not like that …” He stopped himself and took a step back. As if standing too close to me was dangerous. “You should go.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

His beautiful blue eyes finally found mine. They softened and for a moment it was the old Heath standing in front of me. But then they filled with an emotion I couldn’t put a finger on and they looked pained.

“Please …” he begged quietly.

I crossed the space between us and threw my arms around him, pulling him close as I pressed my face into his neck.

“I miss you Heath. You’re my best friend. Please don’t … please don’t end this.”

His big arms pulled me closer and I felt his body relax as he held me tight against him. His scent and warmth engulfed me and I squeezed my eyes shut. I could feel the strong width of his biceps around me, holding me against the wall of muscle that was his body. And it felt like home. It felt right. And I wanted to tell him that maybe, maybe we were wrong, maybe we could try … To hell with Georgia and college and my parents. To hell with the naysayers and everyone who said we’d never work. To hell with it all! None of it mattered because this was right. Being in his arms was right.

But I didn’t. Afraid of his rejection, I said none of that. Because the heat of humiliation from the other night was still on my skin.

Heath pushed me away and said, “You need to leave.”

“Heath,” I objected but he lost his patience with me.

“Jesus Christ Harlow. Don’t you get it?”

His tone made me frown and my voice rose. “No, no I don’t, Heath. I don’t understand this at all! Why don’t you explain it to me?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know how else to put it.” He looked pained. Frustrated. Agitated. “You need to move on. Okay? I don’t want you Harlow.”

His words, like a Tyson punch to the side of the head, punched the fight right out of me.

“You don’t mean that.” I whispered, feeling the sudden onset of heartache rise in my throat.

Through my hurt I saw him suck in a deep breath and frown.

“What is it going to take for you to understand, Harlow?” His jaw flinched and his fists clenched at his side. “I. Don’t. Want. You. Around.”

Another Tyson blow. This time to the belly where it winded me and left me breathless.

“I don’t understand.” Feeling dazed by his rejection I stood very still. “You’re breaking up with me?”

He looked frustrated. “We were never together!”

“I thought you were … that we were best—”

The thought dawned on me like an approaching tsunami. Heath had played me. We weren’t best friends. We never had been. He had played me just like he played every other girl he encountered. Now that he knew I wanted him, now the challenge of the chase was over, he wasn’t interested in me anymore.

It was hard to process and my brain struggled. Fucking asshole.

I looked up at him. My eyes wet. He was casting me aside.

“Just like that?”

“Yeah, just like that.”

The hurt in me bubbled over but my eyes never left his shimmering blue gaze. We stared at each other without speaking. And in that moment my proud little heart broke in half.

I fixed him with my most hateful look. “Fuck you, Heath.”

It was all I could manage. But it seemed fitting.

And just to back it up I shoved him—a good, you’re a fucking asshole shove to the chest—before I stormed out.

Just like the others.

Just like all those girls he’d fucked over before me.

Chapter Nine HEATH

There was no point trying to pull me out of my morose because it wasn’t possible.

She rubbed my arm, my back, my hand.

She being my sister Nikki. We were sitting on the porch steps.

“That’s because you are being an asshole,” she said, matter-of-factly.

“That isn’t helping.”

“It’s not meant to. I don’t want you to feel better. I want you to see that you’re being an asshole.”

“It’s called self-preservation.”

She scoffed. “Oh purleeese.” She gave me a playful shove in the shoulder. “It’s called being a jerk and you know it. This girl adores you. You adore her. She isn’t asking anything of you, other than you be a good friend to her.”

Nikki pulled her long hair over one shoulder. “But you’re in love with her, aren’t you Heath? This is what it’s about. You’re in love with her and it terrifies you.”

Reluctantly I found her blue eyes. I didn’t need to say anything. Nikki knew me too well. She didn’t need me confirming nothing.

She sighed. “And you think pushing her away is going to fix how you feel about her?”

I shrugged.

“I’ll tell you what it’s going to do, it’s going to send her running straight into the arms of that guy she’s been seeing.”

My head shot up to look at her. “What?”

“You just rejected her.” She put her arm around my shoulder. “You just took yourself out of the picture and left a clear path for her. And that path leads straight to the other guy.”

Nikki is two years younger than me. Sometimes I think she’s the older, more sensible one when she comes out with this kind of shit.

Because she was right.

Like a fool, I had just pushed Harlow right into Dean’s more than willing arms.

Goddamn it! If he laid a finger on her I was going to have to hurt him.

“When did the fight fall out of you?” Nikki asked.

“What do you mean?”

She looked disappointed. “You’re a fighter, Heath Dillinger. Why aren’t you fighting for her?”

I couldn’t answer. Why wasn’t I? Why wasn’t I fighting for the girl I had fallen for?

“Because she isn’t my girl.”

Nikki shook her head. “She became your girl the moment you fell in love with her.”

Oh fuck. My sister was right.

She took my chin in her hand and turned my face to her. “You do love her, don’t you?”

When I paused—because I have never been in love before—she shook my chin and repeated the question.

Did I love Harlow?

Was it even fucking possible for me to fall in love with someone?

And then I saw her. In my head. Every single fucking amazing thing about her.

“I’m batshit crazy in love with her,” I whispered.

Nikki smiled broadly. “Then you need to do whatever it takes and make her your girl. Do you understand me brother? Stop being a dipshit and go get that girl.”

* * * * *

HARLOW

Heath was still on my mind when I got ready for my evening with Dean and his friends.

You are going to have a good time tonight, I reminded my reflection in the mirror as I applied another coat of red lipstick and then stepped back.

My dress was black, short and clung to every curve. Definitely the type of dress that would raise Heath’s pulse. Not that it mattered, because I wasn’t friends with Heath anymore. Which was good, because he was an asshole.

To match my lipstick I slipped on a pair of red stilettos that raised my height four inches. The outfit was a knock out.

Because we were checking out a new club which was more upmarket that some of our usual haunts I’d decided to dress up, foregoing my usual jeans and a top for something more glamorous.

Plus, my ego had taken a battering as a result of Heath’s assholeness and I figured a little dressing up always made a girl feel better.

Remembering Heath’s attitude towards me over the past week, I forced back pangs of hurt and humiliation. I was done with his bullshit games. I deserved a night out to take my mind off it. Let karma take care of him. Let her be a bitch when she turned up. And let her be wearing a pair of stilettos when she kicked his ass.

“Wow! You look amazing. Heath is going to blow a gasket when he sees you in that,” Bridge said from the couch. She was sick with the flu and her nose was red from blowing it so much. A blanket covered her legs, and she clutched a scrunched up tissue.

“I’m not going out with Heath. I’m going out with Dean and his friends to the opening of a new club,” I replied, looking for the pair of earrings I remembered seeing on our coffee table earlier.

“Dean? I though you weren’t interested in him.”

“I’m not. What I am interested in is having a good time while I am here. Dean understands we’re nothing more than friends so when he asked me to check out this new club with him and a few of his friends I thought it might be fun.”

“And what does Heath think about that?”

“I don’t know. You’d have to ask Heath. But good luck. He seems to have lost his ability for speech lately.”

Bridge shifted on the couch. “Uh oh. What happened?”

I found my earrings in the coconut shell we used as a coin bowl.

“Apparently we are no longer friends,” I said putting my earrings in. “Apparently he doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

“Since when?”

“Since this morning when I confronted him at the gym,”

“You confronted him at the gym?”

“He’s completely ignored me all week. He hasn’t answered any of my calls or text messages. I wanted to know why.”

I briefly explained the encounter at the gym.

“All right, I’m calling a cab,” I said, not wanting to spend a moment more on Heath and his bullshit. I checked my reflection one last time in the mirror by the front door.

“Dean’s not picking you up?”

“It’s not a date Bridge,” I said, looking at her through the mirror as I curled a stray hair behind my ear. “I said I’d meet him and his friends at the club. That way it sets clear boundaries.”

“Which are?”

I turned to look at her. “That this is not a date. Not even close.”

“At least let me drive you,” she said, but as she moved to get off the couch she burst into a rapid fire of sneezing.

“Are you kidding me? You rest. I’m calling a cab and then fixing you one of Grandma Pearl’s cold elixirs while I wait.”

Twenty minutes after mixing my cousin a hot toddy of tea, honey, lemon, ginger, cloves and a good shot of whiskey, I was in a cab heading into town.

Dean was waiting for me outside the club when the cab pulled up. He looked handsome and wore a bright smile but I had to force myself to be happy to see him. It felt like the wrong guy was waiting for me, and the thought instantly left me deflated. I shouldn’t want it to be Heath waiting for me. But I did. And once I realized that, I immediately regretted coming out. The urge to ring Heath was palpable. Yes I hated him right now. But a part of me was desperate for contact.

“You look gorgeous,” Dean greeted me, helping me out of the cab. When he didn’t stand back I had to brush up against him, my body flush with his as I stood up. I knew it was deliberate and it made me feel awkward.

“Thanks,” I said looking past his shoulders for his friends. There was a long line of people waiting to get inside the club but no one seemed to be waiting for him. “Are your friends inside the club already?”

He grimaced. “Unfortunately they pulled out. Last minute family emergency.”

“Oh no. Would you like to postpone and make it another night?” I asked, a little too eagerly.

“Are you kidding?” He grinned, putting his arm around me and steering me towards the entrance of the club. “This is opening night and I’ve got free tickets. Plus, you look too beautiful to be sitting at home alone.”

He nodded at the intimidating bouncer who let us past the line-up and into the club. It was dim inside, with soft lighting along the walls. I stopped just inside the door and looked at him.

“Just so we’re clear, this isn’t a date. Okay?”

He smiled but his eyes were busy scouring the club. “So you keep saying,” he said, and then nodded towards the bar, which was aglow in pink light. “How about I get us a drink, and you can tell me all about it.”

* * * * *

HEATH

I waited for the front door to open, impatiently tapping my foot. I was anxious to speak to Harlow and to tell her I was sorry. I’d been a jerk. No. An asshole. And it would take a lot of groveling from me to make up for treating her so badly.

When her cousin Bridget opened the door her eyes dropped the brightly-colored mix of flowers in my hand.

“Heath…?” She was surprised to see me. And she looked terrible. Like she was unwell.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“No. I’m dying of the flu,” she mumbled nasally. “What are you doing here?”

“Is Harlow home?”

“No, she’s out.”

“Where?” I hated the desperate edge to my voice.

She eyed me suspiciously. Obviously Harlow had filled her in on what an asswipe I’d been this last week.

Cocking her head slightly to the side, she eyeballed me, and then sighed. “What are you doing Heath?”

Her question caught me off guard but the way she said it was kind and sympathetic. I exhaled deeply.

“Fucking things up by the looks of it,” I said regretfully. “She’s out with Dean, isn’t she?”

Bridget nodded but opened the door wider. “And if you want to fix this, then you’d better come inside.”

* * * * *

I had met Bridget when she’d started working at The Palace a year earlier. Back then we’d been playing there at least once a week. It was just before our debut album was released. But I’d never gotten to know her well. I didn’t remember hitting on her, but seeing how attractive she was, I probably I had. She was very similar in looks to her cousin, with her large green eyes and long dark hair, but while Bridget was very attractive, Harlow was outright beautiful.

Unfortunately, Bridget had known me long enough to see my behavior at its worst. She’d seen all the girls I’d been with and the crazy things I’d done so it was kind of a surprise she had even let me near Harlow. Although I’m sure she would have warned her about me. It was going to be hard to convince her that I wasn’t as bad as she imagined. Although standing across from her as she put the flowers into a vase, I could feel her empathy. Even if I didn’t deserve it, I appreciated it.

“Are you in love with Harlow?” she asked matter-of-factly.

“Yes.”

I didn’t need to think about my response but I wondered what she would think about the admission. Would she approve? Would she think I was good enough for Harlow?

I thought she might laugh but she didn’t. She just nodded as she arranged the flowers in the vase and carried them over to where I was sitting. Placing them on the table in front of us she sat down opposite me and fixed me with dark eyes.

“If you love her, Heath, why are you pushing her away? Why have you ignored her all week?”

I shook my head at my own stupidity. “Because I’m an idiot.”

“She thinks you played her.”

“I didn’t,” I said quickly. “I’d never do anything like that to her.”

“Then, what’s with the vanishing act?”

I thought for a moment. I thought of how Harlow had become my everything and how it terrified me. Of how I didn’t think I deserved her. That I’d spent so long being the bad guy, I wasn’t sure I knew how to be the good guy.

When I’d kissed her it had felt so right and so wrong at the same time. Because I thought she deserved better. But at the end of the day the terror of losing her was worse than any feelings of inadequacy I felt. I would rather spend a lifetime of feeling inadequate than the misery of living without her.

“Because she doesn’t want me,” I said quietly. “And rightfully so, because I could live a million fucking years and never be good enough for her.”

“You’re wrong, Heath. Don’t sell yourself so short.” A small smile curled at Bridget’s lips. “She may not know it. You may not know it. But that girl is a hundred and fifty percent crazy in love with you.”

My eyes shot to hers. “What do you mean? She’s leaving in a few—”

“Pfft!” Bridget waved off my comment. “One word from you and that girl isn’t going anywhere.”

Her words shot some well-needed heat into my heart. Somewhere in the back of my mind I felt the warmth of sunshine and all that gooey stuff you heard about when people described what it was like to be in love.

Was it possible I had a chance with her?

“You really think so?” I didn’t care how pathetic I sounded.

She nodded and smiled.

“I do. So you’d better go and tell her exactly how you feel before this gets any more complicated than what the two of you have already made it.”

* * * * *

HARLOW

The night was going from bad to worse. As the club filled with people and we had less and less room to move, Dean made every opportunity to stand close and touch me. At one point he even started to rub his fingers up and down my arm as we waited at the bar for a drink.

To get away from his hands-on approach to our evening, I escaped to the bathroom and sat in the cubicle, desperately trying to come up with an exit strategy. I would need to remind him that this wasn’t a date … but how many times did I have to do that?

I was desperate to ring Heath. To ask him to pick me up. To ask him to be my friend again.

God I was pathetic.

Back in the bar the night went from bad to worse, as the alcohol he consumed took effect and Dean became more and more handsy.

When I reproached him, he would flash that million-dollar smile and throw his hands up in jest like it was all a big joke.

To take the edge off, I started on the shots and totally misjudged my tolerance levels.

Dean, however, seemed to appreciate me letting my guard down and I began to wonder if he was trying to get me drunk. He lined up a row of shots for us to do. I didn’t know what they were, only that they were better if you didn’t taste them going down.

When I picked up my last shot, Heath suddenly swooped in and removed the shot glass from between my fingers.

“Hey—” I protested.

“She isn’t used to alcohol, asshole,” he seethed at Dean.

Even in my drunken haze the sight of him set off fireworks throughout my body.

“Relax Heath, she’s an adult,” Dean said calmly.

“She’s nineteen. She’s not even legal!”

“Maybe not for Tequila.” Dean said, his eyes twinkling lasciviously as they rolled over my breasts.

Heath breathed in deeply, squeezing his eyes closed. I knew he was fighting an urge to thump Dean. Even in my inebriated state I could see the thin restraint on his face.

Instead, he turned his back on Dean to face me.

“You’re drunk Harlow. I’m taking you home before you pass out.” He went to help me up from my stool but I clumsily pushed him away and almost fell over before he caught me in his strong arms.

Dean stood up. “I’ll take her home.”

Heath shot him a murderous look. “She’s drunk. She isn’t going anywhere with you.”

“Back off Heath,” Dean warned.

Heath plopped me back on the stool and swung around. He was taller and far more imposing than Dean.

“Listen to me you asshole, I know what you’re doing but it ain’t gonna happen. Trying to get her drunk enough so you can talk her out of her clothes?” He leaned in close, his voice dangerously low. “I should beat the hell outta you for trying.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Any time you wanna try, pretty boy.”

Suddenly I felt woozy and the world began to spin.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” I slurred.

Without hesitation Heath scooped me up and had me outside before I knew it. As soon as the night air blasted me, I threw up everything in my stomach.

Heath held me around my hips with one hand so I didn’t fall over, while his other hand held my hair back.

When the convulsions finally stopped, I steadied myself against him.

“I’m okay,” I murmured, a little unsure if that was true. Then remembering Dean was still inside I gave Heath an unsteady push. “I’m going back in.”

He held me tighter. “I don’t think so, Harlow. The only place you’re going is home.”

A second attempt at pushing him was equally ineffective—I was no match for those arms.

“You can’t tell me what to do,” I complained.

“I can when you have more alcohol in your veins than plasma.” He tried steering me away from the entrance of the club but I was able to shake him free.

“Let me go.” I wobbled on my high heels and shakily straightened my dress. “Don’t you have some girl to go stick your dick into?”

Heath’s eyebrows shot up but quickly evened out. “Right now I’m pretty busy trying to make sure you get home safely.”

“I’m not going home!”

“Yes you are.”

I tried to walk back towards the club but Heath stepped in my way.

Drunk, frustrated and a little bit pissed at him for being such a jerk, I thrust my palms into his chest to push him back. He didn’t budge.

“Get out of my way, you jerk!”

“If you think I’m gonna let you go back in there and get violated by that asshole, then you’re crazy.”

“He’s not an asshole. He’s hot!” I snapped, trying unsuccessfully to focus.

“You’re more drunk than I thought,” he mumbled.

Wobbling unsteadily on my heels, I said, “Where do you get off trying to tell me what to do? You don’t even like me the way you like other girls.”

I swayed and Heath grabbed my arms to steady me.

“Those may be the truest words you’ve said since opening your mouth,” he said evenly.

If I had been sober I may have felt slightly offended. But full of tequila and ridiculously drunk, his words stung me deeply. It made me feel so inadequate in comparison. Obviously, I wasn’t good enough for him like his hordes of admirers were. Or all the other girls he made scream.

Hating how I felt, I pushed him in the chest again. “You’re such a player—”

The next thing I knew, Heath lifted me up and threw me over his shoulder.

“Put me down!” I yelled, wriggling my legs and slapping his back.

He ignored me and just kept walking.

“I’m. Not. Kidding,” I cried.

“Yeah. Yeah,” Heath lilted.

When he put me down we were next to his sexy sleek Challenger and Heath was bundling me into the passenger seat.

“Just so you know H-bomb, if you puke in it, you clean it. Got it?”

Before I could process the thought in my punch-drunk brain, he was beside me in the driver’s seat and the engine roared to life. My head lolled to the side as the lights of the city blurred past.

“Just for the record, I want you to know I am not drunk,” I slurred.

He glanced sideways. “Just for the record, I want you to know that you are fall-down drunk.”

My head lolled about and rested to look at him. He was staring straight ahead, the defined line of his chiseled jaw sharpened in the street light.

Goddamn it he’s hot, I thought before rolling my head to the side and passing out.