Текст книги "The Girl with Hearts"
Автор книги: Savannah Blevins
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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 14 страниц)
Chapter 2
LEILA’S VENGENCE
Trapped between crying, cursing herself, and ecstasy, Leila sucked in a breath to hold it all in. Her lips stilled against his neck, her hands clasped around Henrik’s shoulders for dear life.
Henrik.
Shit. It actually happened, and it happened with Henrik.
She’d lost her mind this time. That satanic answering machine with its chippy, nasal voice. Not a single ounce of sadness entered her body upon the realization that her so-called boyfriend cheated on her. Not even a drop. It was pure anger that captivated her. She suddenly saw the world in red flashes, and it was either get out of the house, or demolish his pussified Corvette with a hockey stick.
She didn’t necessarily want to go to jail, so she left. She walked the streets, pacing out her aggression and cursing Derek to damnation. Yeah, she was probably really lucky she didn’t go to jail.
When the haze finally faded, she found herself at the Regency. She could have lied and told herself she’d come for Austin. That would have been a natural reaction—seek out your big brother for comfort. Leila wasn’t one for natural reactions, apparently. She stepped foot inside those sliding glass doors for one reason only.
Henrik. She wanted Henrik. Hell, she’d always wanted Henrik.
He turned his cheek, and she knew it was his silent way of checking if she was still alive. She’d never felt this alive in her life. She tucked a piece of his blond hair behind his ear. She’d hate him for it tomorrow, but right now, she just wanted to pretend the Henrik in her dreams was real.
He shifted beneath her, and she winced. She hadn’t thought this through at all. Next thing she knew, his lips smiled against her. “Sorry,” he barely said aloud. “Trying to take it slow. Not easy.”
She nodded, wondering if he could see how much effort she took not to move. Every part of her screamed. It was embarrassing.
Suddenly, his hand steadied on her hip. Her fingers instantly embedded in his shoulders again. He kissed her neck, willing her to relax, and her body followed his direction flawlessly. Definitely embarrassing.
“I’ve got you,” he assured her.
She couldn’t help but smile. His accent was more prevalent. Maybe that meant he was nervous too. She really hoped he was nervous too.
He moved again, and again. Conscious thought was an impossibility. She’d never felt this way, completely consumed by the present. It was ridiculous how one simple move of his hips could erase her thoughts and numb her heart. It had to be the end, but as the sensation continued to roar throughout her body, there was more. Much more.
She was lost in him. Henrik’s lips, his painted and sculpted body, engulfing her from every angle. He guided her, washing away the nerves and the pain, replacing it with something much more powerful. Something she’d never forget.
She wasn’t sure how it happened, but he still held her limp body firmly around him. Her legs shook with weakness as his weight pinned her against the wall. Her breath was ragged and sharp, her mind fuzzy. He set her feet gently on the floor, but her legs collapsed beneath her. He followed her down, kneeling between her thighs, and she could feel his gaze on her. Roaming her body, taking her in.
Slowly, the fog of lust drifted from her eyes, her body floating down from the high. He reached up and pushed her scarlet curls away from her eyes, his own clouded with questions. “You dated Derek for two years,” he managed to stutter out.
Her head fell against the wall, her chest still heaving as she rolled her eyes at him. “Don’t remind me.”
She didn’t want to talk about it. Admitting she wasted two years of her life on a piece of lying scum wasn’t exactly on her to do list, especially with Henrik.
“Leila.” His voice was suddenly firm and serious. “I just took—”
She jerked up straight, a flash of the former anger she felt lashing through her. “What do you want me to say? I wanted to wait until I was married to have sex. Having standards doesn’t give him the right to cheat on me.”
His brows drew together. “Of course not. That’s not what I meant. I just wish I would have…known.”
Having finally caught her breath, she attempted to stand, only to find her legs still too weak, so she sat back down. “You would have said no?”
He leaned away from her, studying her tight features. “No, but maybe the bathroom at the Regency wouldn’t have been my first choice of venue.”
She snorted at the absurdity of his suggestion. “Because where you take some girl’s virginity is that important to you.”
It was cruel, but it was Henrik. He deserved cruel. However, it didn’t stop his jaw from gaping. “I thought we determined that you weren’t ‘some girl,’ and even if you were, I do have standards.”
She gave him a ‘yeah, right’ look.
“They may be a little lower than yours,” he spat back at her, “but I’m not a total asshole.”
Leila finally gained enough strength to stand. “You had sex with ninety percent of the girls in my dorm my freshman year of college. You remember that? In fact, if I recall correctly, you visited two different girls on my hall in one night.”
He stood too, folding his arms over his chest. “They weren’t virgins,” he growled down at her. “And they weren’t you. Though, if I remember correctly, you were too stuck up to even say hello to me.”
“You mean I didn’t stop to fawn at your feet on your way down the hall to screw the second girl for the night? Forgive me for my insensitivity.”
“They called me. You know, very similar to the way you showed up at my door tonight.”
She grabbed her bra from around the faucet handle, mad at herself.
She had to stop pretending. Henrik would never be anything more than a skirt-chasing asshole, just like Derek would never be a gentleman. Men weren’t capable of perfection.
“And you didn’t disappoint,” she snapped over her shoulder, turning away from him to fasten her bra.
“That doesn’t sound like a compliment.”
She turned around in circles, searching for her dress. “It’s not.”
He snatched the flimsy fabric off the floor before she could reach it and pointed it at her. “You’re not playing fair. You don’t get to come here and proposition me, and then look down on me because I said yes.”
“Give me my dress so I can leave.” She jutted her chin out, trying to hold it together.
“I took your virginity, Leila.” He spoke the words slowly, exaggerating each syllable. “Why don’t you show some emotion about that for just one moment?”
“Why?” she scoffed. “What difference does it make? There are no knights in shining armor. There are assholes like Derek who lie about their escapades, or openly promiscuous pricks like you. I simply chose the lesser of two evils.”
She held her hand out for the dress, and trembled despite her best effort to control it. He tucked it underneath his arm. “And you think I’m callous? Do you even hear yourself?”
She stepped forward and ripped the dress out of his arms. “I’ve lost all faith in the male species. I guess that’s what four years of college with you, and two years of dating him will do to a girl. You should feel honored.”
He watched her as she put on the dress, his jaw clenching tightly. It only spiked her anger. He didn’t have the right to judge her after everything he’d done. She glanced at the tiny silver watch on her wrist and sneered at him. “And look, it’s still early. You may still have time to go two for two tonight.”
Heat flushed his face, and an air of satisfaction swelled over her. She grabbed the doorknob, but Henrik’s hand covered hers first.
“Wait. Did you hear that?”
“Let go,” she said, shoving him back.
She pulled the door open, but he quickly shoved his entire body against it, slamming it back shut. Seconds later, Leila heard it too.
“Hey, Ryley!” the voice bellowed into the room. “I thought you were coming out tonight.”
Leila sucked in a sharp breath. This wasn’t bad. It was catastrophic. Only one person in the world got to call Mr. Arrogant, Henrik Rylander, by his childhood nickname, and that was only because her brother was the size of a yeti.
Henrik held his finger up to his lips, pleading with her to stay quiet. He looked terrified. She really wanted to roll her eyes at him. Like he was the only one who’d get a lecture out of it.
“Sorry, man, I fell asleep,” he insisted, yelling through the door. “I was just about to get in the shower.”
“Well, you really missed it tonight—” Austin began, rambling incoherently about the happenings of the evening. He was drunk. Thank God. His words slurred together, and he sounded tired.
Henrik quietly locked the door. “What are you doing?” she mouthed, pushing away from him.
She realized too late that he was still naked, and took a few more cautious steps away from him. He grinned.
“Stalling,” he whispered back, “unless you want to walk out there together like this.”
She picked up his underwear and threw it at his smug face.
“That’s what I thought.” He paused long enough to slip them on. “He’s wasted. He’ll pass out in a matter of minutes.”
Austin stopped talking, and the room went quiet. Henrik walked over and flipped on the shower. “You’ll be out of here in thirty minutes, tops.”
“Great,” she mumbled, going to sit in the corner of the bathroom as far away from Henrik as possible. She didn’t need his perfect abs and cryptic body art staring her in the face. She slid down the wall, noting the ache in her thighs. A quick reminder of what had transpired.
She lost her virginity. In a bathroom. To the reigning man-whore of the east coast.
Awesome.
Her head fell in the palm of her hands as she sighed. The strap of her dress fell off her shoulder, but she didn’t care. Why should she? She’d been completely naked in front of Henrik just minutes ago. Naked. He’d seen her naked, and they had—
Shit. Shit. Shit.
She cried, silently, but she could feel the tears leaking down her cheeks.
“Leila—”
Henrik’s face was white. His stupid, perfect face. If that wasn’t enough, he was going to act concerned. He wasn’t concerned about her, he just wanted out of this situation without his best friend kicking his ass.
“Are you okay?” he asked, but a knock resounded on the hotel room door. It sounded urgent.
Leila jumped up. She could hear Austin stumbling out of bed. She rushed past Henrik and pressed her ear to the door. Sighing, Henrik followed suit. It sounded like Michael, one of Henrik’s teammates, but he talked in a rush, so it was hard for her to be sure.
“Where is Henrik? Callen got in a fight with some idiot in the stairwell. The cops are threatening to take him in if he doesn’t calm down.”
She looked up at Henrik, but he shook his head. “Idiot,” he mumbled under his breath.
“Just go,” she insisted, her eyes looking anywhere but at him. “And take Austin with you.”
It would be easier that way. No awkward conversation. No listening to Henrik pretend he cared. No chance of her brother deciding he needed to piss.
Henrik bit his lip, thinking. “Stay here,” he said quietly, placing a hand on her hip. “I’ll pawn your brother off on someone down the hall. I’ll drive you home.”
Now Austin yelled for Henrik.
She vehemently shook her head. “No, just go and get him out of here.”
He tightened his hand on her hip. “I don’t feel right leaving you when—”
“That’d be a first,” she snapped, whirling away from his touch.
He paused. Hurt.
She should have kept her mouth shut. He didn’t need to know why she hated him. At least—not why she started hating him.
It was history. It was over. Actually, it never even began.
Henrik’s eyes narrowed as he studied her expression. She knew it looked spiteful. It was her customary Henrik response look.
“Fine,” he spat back at her. “Be miserable by yourself.”
He jerked the door open and pushed through it. He didn’t even bother to look back, like nothing had even changed.
Because it hadn’t. It was Henrik Rylander. Of course it hadn’t. She waited until the door clicked shut before she cried.
Chapter 3
HENRIK’S CRASH DOWN
Henrik felt like a seven year old longing after an ice cream truck the way he gazed at the bundle of red lace in his bottom drawer. He’d come in the room to raid his condom stash, but realized too late that in his haste of unpacking a couple weeks ago, he had thrown his souvenir into the same hiding spot.
He didn’t know what he expected to find or feel when he got back to his hotel room that night in Newark. He knew Leila would be gone, unwilling to risk the chance of Austin finding out about their tryst in the bathroom, but a part of him had felt disappointed.
The feeling was undeniably foreign. He’d never felt disappointed to find out one of his conquests had left without notice. It made him uneasy.
He’d been exceptionally quiet the remainder of the night, listening as a sobering Austin rattled on about Callen’s run-in with the cops. It wasn’t until he lay down, rolling onto his stomach, determined to make himself sleep, that his hand slipped underneath his pillow, coming in contact with the unfamiliar fabric. He pulled it out, unsure what he’d uncovered, but it had only taken a second for the reality to sink in.
Leila left her panties.
His pulse started a slow and steady thud in his ears.
She left the panties she’d voluntarily removed because she’d planned to seduce him.
He could practically feel her breath on his neck, her fingers clinging desperately to his back. He clenched his eyes, determined to focus.
Why? Why would she do that?
They hadn’t left on good terms. He’d been in the middle of an argument with her when Austin showed up. He couldn’t comprehend what could have happened in those five minutes she was alone in his room to make her want to do such a thing.
Leila Blakely was pure evil. She didn’t require a logical reason to torture him.
He hastily shoved the evidence of his betrayal back under the pillow, his heart rate and libido panting wildly as he tried to pretend everything was normal.
Nothing was normal now.
As his hand gripped the delicate lace, he fought not only to find sleep, but also to muster a thought that didn’t involve her image. He lay there deep into the morning, silently fearing nothing would ever be normal in his life again.
It had been less than a month since their encounter, but he’d been thinking about Leila all night. Maybe it was the blatant contrast between her and the lackluster date waiting for him in the living room.
Or maybe it was because he hadn’t heard a peep from Leila, not even a pass-along hello from Austin. Girls always called, or at least left a desperate voicemail or two. He wasn’t accustomed to being shafted, and the thought of it wasn’t sitting well with him. Mainly, he had questions for Leila that he wanted answered.
“Hey. There is a grouchy old man on the phone for you.”
He whirled around to see his date, the buttons already undone on her blouse, holding his cell phone out for him.
“You answered my phone?” It was obvious, but he was annoyed and wanted her to hear the disdain in his voice.
“The number wasn’t in your phone,” she replied, completely unaffected by his retort. “I was just curious.”
In other words, she was making sure it wasn’t another woman. He shut the drawer without retrieving the condoms. This girl wasn’t worth the headache. “Give me the phone,” he huffed, stalking into the kitchen for privacy. He rubbed the tips of his fingers against the pain that was slowly forming behind his eyes. “Yes?”
“Sir, it’s Carl. We have a code red.”
Carl, his eighty-something year old doorman, agreed to be his first line of defense against extra company in exchange for a couple playoff tickets last year. A code red meant there was another woman downstairs requesting to come up to his apartment.
“Who is it?” he whispered, turning around so the brunette behind him couldn’t hear. At this point, though, he’d be happy to piss her off and get her out of his apartment. “The blonde?”
“No. She’s not one of the usual girls. She’s wearing a jersey.”
That didn’t sound right. No woman he brought to his place would be caught dead in a jersey. None of them even liked hockey, just the fact that they knew he played it. It never really bothered him until now.
“What kind of jersey?” he inquired, running a hand absently through his hair.
If it was a Rangers jersey, then it was just a fan. It happened from time to time. Hockey fans were resilient. No matter the precautions he took to keep his address out of the spotlight, they’d always find him eventually.
“I’m not sure.” He could practically imagine Carl straining his eyes around the corner from his desk to check. “It’s green.”
Henrik paused in thought. His Rangers jersey definitely wasn’t green, but that wasn’t the jersey that flashed in his mind at that moment. A raw flush of hormones shot through him, causing his back to snap suddenly straight. “North Dakota, by chance?” His voice dropped a register.
“Yeah,” Carl considered. “I think so.”
“My guest wouldn’t happen to be a feisty redhead, would she?”
“She was a little rude,” Carl grumbled. “She was asking for Mr. Blakely, and then your brother, but when I told her they were both gone, she finally said she would settle for you, but she wasn’t happy about it.”
“Leila.” He said it loud, just loud enough to bring attention to himself. When the brunette turned around, her eyes narrowing at him, he smiled. “Send her up, Carl.”
“Who was that?” The woman leaned back on the couch, her feet propped up on his coffee table. A poor attempt to bring attention to the fact that she’d hiked up her skirt while he was on the phone. He walked to the door and swung it open. “I apologize—” he paused, realizing he didn’t remember her name “—but I’m going to need a rain check.”
She sat up, eyeing him suspiciously. “Who is Leila?”
He contemplated it for a moment, deciding which answer would get her out the quickest. “It’s my wife. She’s on her way up.”
Her face hardened. “You’re not married. I Googled it.”
She remained on the couch with her arms crossed over her chest like a three-year old about to have a tantrum. He rubbed the bridge between his eyes again. “Okay. So, she’s not my wife. But there is another woman on her way up here, and apparently I want you to leave so badly that I lied to you about her being my wife to get you out of the apartment. Either way, I’m an asshole.”
She stood, but made no attempt to leave. “I want to know who she is.”
Thank God he hadn’t slept with her.
“Honestly?” He took a few steps forward. “She’s my best friend’s little sister, and my little brother’s first crush. I slept with her a while back. I’m hoping she just drove two hours because it was so great she wants to do it again.”
She eyed him curiously, as if she didn’t believe him. “You’re serious?”
“Hence, the door—” He showcased it like a prize on a game show.
She gawked at him a few more seconds, his words slowly sinking in. “You asshole!”
“Thank you,” he breathed. “Finally.”
The onslaught began then, the usual melody of cursing and declarations of ill will. He was too busy glancing down the hallway to really pay attention. The elevator dinged. She would cross paths with Leila on her way out. The brunette brushed by him, still diligently cursing in his direction. He nodded graciously, moving out of her way. She made it all the way down the hallway before Leila stepped into view.
Cut off jean shorts were barely visible beneath a faded Fighting Sioux jersey.
It was Leila. It was the Leila he knew. The final layers of her Derek-induced transformation stripped away.
No make-up. Long curls pulled back into a lopsided ponytail.
His adrenaline kicked into overdrive. She stopped in front of him, glancing back over her shoulder toward the brunette, who was now gone. “You’re disgusting.” She set a small black bag down next to her.
He leaned casually against the doorframe, grinning like he wasn’t wearing just a pair of briefs. Funny how all that self-doubt that tried to seep in vanished. This was better than a random text or cryptic message unknowingly passed on by her brother. “You’re the one at my doorstep for the second time. I must not be that bad,” he teased, noting how his mood had done a complete one-eighty in the past five minutes.
“Screw you.”
He shouldn’t provoke her, but it was the only way he could get an honest response out of her. Plus, it amused him. She had come back. He hadn’t felt this accomplished since the draft.
“I’m here to see Austin. Do you know where he is?”
He pretended to think it over, entertained by the notion that she was using her brother as an excuse to see him again. He made sure to shoot her a cocky smile before he responded. “I’d probably do a better job at telling you what he’s doing, rather than where he’s doing it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Your nasty habits are rubbing off on him.”
He leaned forward, smirking. “I was under the impression they’d rubbed off on you.”
“Forget it. Tell him I’ll be back tomorrow.”
She whirled around to leave, and suddenly, he was in the hallway behind her, grabbing her elbow. “Wait.”
She flinched at his touch, the sensation setting off a chain reaction in her that sent her elbow flying as she twirled to get out of his grasp. He stood behind her, his hands in the air.
“What’s up with you? You almost took my head off.”
Leila looked around, her face cold. “Don’t touch me. Who knows where your hands have been tonight.”
So, she was mad about the brunette getting on the elevator.
He wasn’t going to lie. He felt satisfied knowing it had sparked even a small amount of jealousy in her. It was at least something.
She turned to leave when the elevator dinged again. His younger brother Drew stumbled out, laughing as he pulled a girl along with him, obviously drunk off his ass. Drew was drunk off his ass a lot lately.
Leila’s back jerked straight, and he decided to act on instinct. He grabbed her by the waist, quickly pulling her inside his apartment before slamming the door behind them.
Brothers and their fucking impeccable timing.
They were face to face now, their noses almost close enough to touch. He knew he should move, allow her out of his grasp, but he waited for her to show the first indication that pinned up against his door wasn’t where she wanted to be right now.
She breathed heavily, her eyes dark with worry. “Is Drew about to—”
“Don’t ruin his night,” he interrupted, knowing where the conversation would go.
If Drew caught one glimpse of Leila, his date would be over. He was sure of it. Her face turned stern, but he continued. “That’s the first date he’s been on in months, and I practically forced him to go.”
Leila’s eyes softened. The only time he ever noticed it was when someone mentioned his brother. He was man enough to admit it made him a little envious.
“I shouldn’t have come here.” Her head fell back against the door with a resounding thud.
The gesture exposed the smooth skin at the nape of her neck. His mind instantly went in the gutter and drained down every licentious ditch after it. “But since you’re here,” he cooed, biting his lip.
Leila’s eyes widened as if she noticed for the first time that a half-naked man was pressed suggestively up against her. She immediately shoved him away, putting at least five feet between them before she scolded him. “I’m actually trying to have a serious conversation with you.”
He turned, unamused. “About what? My brother? Drew will be fine as long as he doesn’t know you’re here. He actually sounded like he was looking forward to his date this time.”
Leila gaped at him. “Just goes to show how little you actually listen to him,” she grumbled to herself. “In fact, I’m not sure you have the capability to hear anything that anyone says to you. You keep your head so far up your own ass it’s a wonder you can stand upright.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It’s thirty degrees outside tonight, and I’m wearing shorts,” she snapped. “Does that seem odd to you?”
He paused, gazing at her, confused. He hadn’t considered the weather. He’d been too preoccupied with the skin the shorts revealed to worry about anything else.
“And do you actually believe I chose to wear your godforsaken jersey on purpose?” She held the front of the jersey away from her body as if it were covered in toxic waste.
“You used to always wear that jersey,” he stated with certainty. She used to wear it to games, switching between it and her brother’s, but she always wore his number the most. He’d kept track.
“Just take a second and look at me, Henrik.” Her eyes pleaded with him now, and the erratic state of her appearance slowly started to sink in. “I haven’t slept in days. I can’t remember the last time I had an actual meal, and I am seconds away from completely losing what little sanity I have left. I came here for help, and you just proved why I asked for you last.”
Her voice was weak. She had circles forming under her eyes.
He’d been too focused on himself and what he wanted even to take the time to realize she hadn’t come for him.
What girl traveled with just one half-empty bag? No girl did that.
He felt like an idiot. Leila came to him for help, and for the second time in a row, he screwed it up.
She tugged her black bag tighter around her back and stepped past him to the door. Her cheeks flushed a brazen red, her breathing unsettled as she paused at the threshold. Slowly, she turned back, her green eyes intense with her internal battle.
“I can’t take another second of watching you walk around in the shadow of your own stupidity,” she said. “It’s time you woke up and realized there is more to the world than what lands at the end of your dick.” She took a moment to catch her breath, indecision flashing across her face before she continued. “Your brother is gay.”
That same look captured her eyes again, the soft glow she reserved just for Drew. “He’s not in love with me. He never has been. We hung out so much because I was the only person he trusted enough to tell the truth. So, no, I really doubt he’s enjoying that date you forced him to go on.”
She shot him one more long, pointed stare before she slammed the door in his face.
Gay. She definitely just said Drew was gay.
Henrik stood there, and then stood there some more. His brain was suddenly on information overload, and his hormones blocked his ability to process it at a socially acceptable rate.
Drew told him he didn’t want to go on the date. He told him he didn’t understand his type. He needed to stop trying to help.
Henrik collapsed. His hands covered his face.
Shit. Drew was gay.
He blinked back tears and guilt. Of course Drew was gay.
His world catapulted upside down, or maybe it righted itself for the first time.
Of course. Drew. How the hell did he miss that?
He was officially the worst big brother in existence. If that wasn’t enough, all the things Leila accused him of being all these years were actually true. Years’ worth of her unrelenting comments flooded his mind. Maybe he really was a self-serving, narcissistic jerk.
