Текст книги "Shaken, Not Stirred"
Автор книги: Sawyer Bennett
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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 19 страниц)
The next thing I knew, Kyle and I were back on our bikes and Jenny and Mallory were following us to The Last Call in Jenny’s car, where I may or may not run into Casey, who may or may not be a good thing or a bad thing, but who most definitely is someone I should stay away from.
We pull into the gravel parking lot, and I can’t help the way my eyes quickly scan the lot until they land on the exact thing I’m looking for.
A teal-blue Jeep.
After I park my bike and dismount, I take a quick peek at my watch and see it’s closing in on six PM, which is exactly when Casey’s shift ended the other night. Part of me considers leaving, staying away for a bit, and giving Casey a chance to leave the bar. Another part of me wants to see her immediately… like right now, to prove to myself that I can give her a glance and not need anything further from her.
And the slightly vindictive part of me… that small part inside of me that actually might be filled with some measure of womanly estrogen, hell bent on making someone jealous, wants to head inside with Mallory on my arm and let Casey Markham know that she’s as easily forgotten as I was the other night.
I contemplate my options while Jenny and Mallory exit the car that’s parked beside our bikes.
Thirty seconds later, I’m walking through the bar with my arm around Mallory’s waist.
Chapter 7
Casey
I stare out at the crowd listlessly. It’s pretty packed for a Wednesday night, but then again, the summer season is upon us and it will only continue to get busier while the months get hotter.
“Can I get another beer, Casey?” Roy asks as he slides a five-dollar bill toward me.
“Sure thing,” I say absently and trudge over to the taps. Pouring the beer, I watch the foam head rise as the golden ale swirls below, round and round, stuck in the same place. I realize my life can be boiled down to this moment… to watching the futility of ale stagnating while foam rises.
Turning the tap off, I slide the beer over to Roy. He gives me a toothless smile and says, “Why so sad, Casey? Had your heart broken?”
I snort and shake my head at him. “Gotta have a heart to break, Roy. I don’t think I have one of those.”
Before he can lay any pearls of wisdom at my feet, I turn away and meander over to the register. The clock on the digital display says I can get out of here in five more minutes and then I can go home, put on my rattiest of pajamas, and crawl into bed like I have every night for the past four nights, where I can stare out my window and reflect on how fucked up I’m feeling.
Over Tenn.
Over that amazingly gorgeous biker who smiles like a saint and fucks like the devil.
For all I know, he’s not even around anymore. And let’s face it… I don’t know much. I only know that I gave in to my base desires to have the man, and then he systematically managed to dismantle me in just a few hours’ time.
God… the man made me come again… for the fifth time with just a few hard strokes inside of me and even as I was coming down off my high, I knew I wanted him again and again. He pulled up on my hips, practically lifting my feet from the floor as his entire body lurched into me over and over again, hitting me so deep… hitting me in such a remote place, that I knew I’d never be the same again.
When he came, he did it with the force of a hurricane, throwing his head back and roaring out his release. The noise… the noise of his pleasure struck at me hard, because never in all my sexual years have I heard a man orgasm like that. I literally felt his release in my ears, and I stared at his reflection in wonder of it all.
When he leaned over me and wrapped his arms around my chest, pulling me up straight so he could hug me from behind, all while his cock was still hard within me, I felt something within me crack. And then he laid his chin on my shoulder and whispered, “Christ, Goldie. I’m ruined.”
His voice was so soft… so full of contentment… replete with peace, that a wave of arctic coldness rushed through me and I put my mental walls up immediately. I pulled out of his embrace, mumbled about needing to use the bathroom, and then paced back and forth across the floor while I repeated to myself, Stay away from him, Casey. He’s dangerous.
So I cut him off at the knees. I was cruel, aloof, and I told him I was done with him, even as my heart screamed at me that I was the most stupid bitch ever to walk the face of the earth.
I left his hotel and sat down on the curb, trying to compose myself before I called Gabby. I hadn’t called her like I had told him, but rather told that lie so I wouldn’t have to ride on his bike back to my Jeep. I knew if I touched him again, I’d give in. I’d relent to his magnetic pull.
And for the first time since I was eighteen, I sat on that curb and I let tears caused by a man fall from my eyes. I went ahead and let myself mourn for something that I knew I wanted but was too afraid to take. I let it out and when my tears dried, I reminded myself that it was better this way. That this tiny bit of longing and hurt would serve as a reminder of why it could never go any further. I reminded myself that I did what I did for protection. I did it to keep my heart safe.
And so, I plugged along, day after day, continually thinking of my time with Tenn but refusing to let myself wonder what could have been if I had stuck around. I put my friends off, missing out on my weekly Monday breakfast meeting with my girls, Gabby, Alyssa, Savannah and Andrea, claiming a nonexistent sinus infection had kept me in bed. I declined a dinner invitation from Brody one night and then another dinner invitation over to my parents the following night.
I wanted to be left alone.
Alone is what I did best.
“Got big plans tonight?” Kent says from behind me, and I turn to see him stepping behind the bar.
I give a slight shake to my head and offer up a tiny smile. “A frozen pizza and a Monk marathon sound big?”
“Sounds interesting,” he conceded, and then walked up to the register to begin his nightly ritual.
I turn, grab a rag from the bar, and bend over the sink to wash it out. A generous wiping down of the wooden bar top and I can head home.
“We need a few beers, Casey,” I hear from directly on the other side of the bar, and my shoulders tense over that rich, rumbling sound that I know comes from one sexy-as-sin biker.
My head slowly lifts up and Tenn stands there, a genial smile on his face. Immediate warmth floods through me, relief that he’s still around, and happiness that he’s standing here in front of me, and then comes lust and desire as I look at his pale blue eyes staring at me in interest.
“What do you want?” I ask with a wink, hoping he catches my double entendre, and just that easy, I’ve thrown out every bit of resolve and common sense where Tenn is concerned.
“Let me see,” he says, and then my stomach drops as he turns slightly away from me to reveal a pretty woman standing there with curly, brown hair and large, almond-shaped eyes of the same color. His hand reaches out and touches her shoulder, causing her to turn her head to him. “What do you want to drink, Mallory?”
Stupid fucking name… Mallory.
“A white wine spritzer,” she says, and then looks to the woman behind her. “Want the same, Jenny?”
The other woman, who is pretty in a haunted goth sort of way with straight, black hair that comes to her shoulders and several facial piercings, nods.
Kyle steps up beside Tenn and my head turns to him in surprise, and a bit of relief that Tenn isn’t here with two women. “We’ll take two Buds and two white wine spritzers,” he says as he reaches into his wallet. Then he inclines his head toward Tenn and says in a low voice, “And what the fuck is a white wine spritzer?”
Tenn doesn’t answer Kyle but turns his gaze to me, and if I’m not mistaken, looks at me expectantly. As if he wants a reaction from me.
“On a double date?” I ask, and then internally wince as I realize how catty my voice sounds.
He smiles big at me, his eyes crinkling with tiny laugh lines at the corner. His lips curve up in a smirk, and he says, “Yeah… something like that.”
“Well, you’ll have to wait until Kent changes out the register,” I say as I jerk my thumb back over my shoulder. “I’ll bring your drinks to you.”
“Thanks,” Tenn says as Kyle throws a twenty on the bar. By the time I snatch it up, he’s already turned away, his hand on Mallory’s back as he guides her over to one of the empty pool tables. He leans down to say something to her, and I hear her giggle over the music of the jukebox.
Stupid fucking name—Mallory.
In a huff, I turn around and grab two wine glasses from the back bar, proceeding to make the white wine spritzers. I’m proud of myself when I resist the urge to spit in the glasses. I then fish out two Budweisers and as I twist the caps off, my eyes slide over to the pool table. Tenn is bent over it, taking a shot, his tattooed arms flexing and reminding me of the power he holds. Mallory—stupid fucking name—has her hip resting against the corner of the table, and she says something to him that causes those sexy-as-hell lips to lift sexily before breaking out into a full-out laugh.
Ugh. She can’t be making him laugh.
I quickly place the drinks on a tray and hand Kent the twenty. “Two Buds, two white wines spritzers.”
“What the hell is a white wine spritzer?” he asks as he takes the twenty from me.
“Some stupid drink a woman with a stupid name like Mallory would order,” I grumble as he makes me change, handing back three dollars and twenty-five cents.
“Oh-kay,” he drawls as he shakes his head at me in confusion.
I take the money, throw it on the tray, and walk out from behind the bar. Kyle is sitting at a small table with Jenny on his lap while Tenn lines up another shot at the pool table. Mallory sees me setting the drinks down and practically skips over to me.
“Yummy,” she squeals as she takes one of the wine glasses from my hand to take a sip. She swallow, looks at the glass funny, and then hands it back to me. “Um… it tastes a bit watery.”
I stare at the glass, and then raise my eyes to her. “And that’s what usually happens when you water down wine to make a spritzer, Sherlock.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “That’s kind of rude.”
“Be glad I didn’t spit in it,” I say as I ignore the glass and walk past her.
I hear her huff, and she complains to Jenny and Kyle, “I’m going to report her. Didn’t you say your sister is friends with the owner, Kyle?”
I snicker to myself. It’s true… Andrea is most definitely friends with the owner, but I’m his sister. His little baby sister, in fact, and he’ll agree with me. Mallory is a stupid name and a white wine spritzer is a stupid-ass drink.
As I stalk around the edge of the pool table, I run smack into a hard, muscled chest. One whiff of body wash that reminds me of cold mountain air and I know it’s Tenn’s chest who I’m pressed against. I relish it for a minute and step back, looking up to glare at him.
His eyes are mocking when he murmurs, “Didn’t think you were the type to go all meow-meow over me, Goldie. I like this little fit of jealousy.”
My jaw drops open, and then snaps back shut as I realize I totally feel jealous of stupid fucking Mallory. “Whatever,” I mutter as I drop my face and move to step around him.
He sidesteps, putting himself back in my path. “Now where are you scurrying off to?”
I huff out in frustration and look back up at him. Those blue eyes are piercing straight through me and a completely slappable, yet edible, smirk on his goatee-surrounded lips. “I’m going home.”
“Didn’t take you for a coward,” he murmurs as his head jerks over his shoulder at stupid fucking Mallory. “If you want my attention, you have it now.”
“I don’t want your attention,” I snap at him and before I can think to move around him, he dips his head lower and whispers to me, “Gonna prove you wrong again.”
Those words… so sexy and so reminiscent of the other night when he took great triumph in proving my body wrong causes my heart to start hammering hard. His eyes are challenging me… daring me to step out of my comfort zone and perhaps admit… just a little, that I made a mistake walking away from him the other night.
I take a step back from him, slip my tray under my arm, and reach out to hand him Kyle’s money. “Here’s the change.”
“Keep it,” he says without glancing down at it. His eyes rake slowly down my body and then back up again, causing my nipples to tighten in response. When his gaze comes back up to mine, he throws the gauntlet down. “Now… what are you going to do, Goldie? Fight or flight?”
I look at that beautiful mouth and remember exactly how it felt against me the other night. With a flash of anger, I wonder if that mouth will be giving stupid fucking Mallory the same pleasure tonight.
Turning my back on him, I stuff the three-dollar bills in my pocket but slap the quarter on the edge of the pool table, indicating my intention of challenging the winner of the game in progress.
Tenn’s eyebrows rise up slightly, and he gives me an amused shake of his head. “You seem sure of yourself. Interested in a bet?”
Now, I watched Tenn take a couple of shots on the table while I was getting his drink order together and he’s damn good. But then again, so am I.
“What did you have in mind?” I ask curiously.
“If I win, you have to answer one question for me. And it has to be truthful… no lying.”
“That’s it?” I ask, almost a little disappointed. I had hoped he would say something that would take the decision out of my hands. Something that would obviate my own stupid barriers I put up. Something like, “If I win, Casey, you’re coming home with me and I’m going to fuck you all night long.”
“That’s all I want,” he says assuredly. “And what do you want if you win?”
I consider what I want. I mean… I know what I want. I can’t fucking help myself. I want him. I want to be with him and the easiest way to do it seems to lay it right on that pool table in front of me. Stepping in closer to him, I cut a quick glance over to Mallory, of the stupid name, and see her watching me with blazing fury. I stand on my tiptoes and murmur in Tenn’s ear, “If I win, I want to give you a blow job.”
Tenn’s entire body jerks, and he lets out a breath of hot air that fans across my neck. “Fuck, Casey… you know you’re all but daring me to lose.”
I give him a saucy smile and lick my bottom lip. “Maybe I am.”
Tenn stares at me a moment, and then inclines his head. “It’s a bet, then. Just let me finish this game and we’ll get it on.”
“Oh yes we will,” I say with innuendo. “I’m going to get me a beer.”
By the time I make it to the bar, order a beer, and pay for it, Tenn is finishing up his game with Mallory. Because her pool-playing skills are as stupid as her name, it didn’t take very long.
As the challenger, I rack the balls with a sly grin on my face. Tenn stands over near the table with Mallory pressed in close to him, making sure she garners his attention. He tilts his head her way and smiles at something she says. She shoots me a triumphant look and steps in closer to him, laying her hand on his stomach.
I want to break her fucking wrist, but I refrain. Lucky her.
And lucky me, actually, because since I promised Tenn a blow job if I win, I can guarantee you this game won’t take long. I can guarantee you that he’ll be walking out the door with me tonight and not Mallory, woman of such a stupid name her parents should be shot.
I release the rack and step away from the table, turning to the wall to grab a cue stick from the holder. By the time I turn back around, Tenn is letting loose and breaks the rack cleanly. Two stripes fall in and he gives me a wolfish grin.
I grin back because I know exactly how this game is going to play out. He might make his next shot, but then he’ll start missing them. He’ll make a show, of course, but he’s going to let me win because he wants my lips wrapped around his dick. I want my lips wrapped around his dick just so I can have another night with him. One more night, I promise myself, and then I’ll be done.
“You’re going down, Goldie,” Tenn says from across the table.
Mallory actually chimes out, “Kick her ass, baby.”
I ignore her and give a gracious swipe of my hand toward the green felt. “Then, by all means… take me down.”
And much to my utter shock, Tenn proceeds to run the entire fucking table. He sinks shot after shot… striped ball after striped ball falling prey to the corner and side pockets. He doesn’t look at me once but concentrates on the game, stalking around the table and calculating his best move. In just a matter of a few minutes, the table is completely devoid of stripes and the only shot left is the eight ball.
He taps the far corner pocket right in front of me, his eyes lifting up to mine. He gives me a hard, appraising stare before he lets the cue stick go. I watch as the cue ball—almost as if in slow motion—hits the eight ball perfectly and it assuredly sinks into the pocket, garnering him the win.
My jaw drops, and this time, my mouth stays open.
He just won.
He just gave up the chance to be with me. He just gave up a fucking blow job, and let me tell you… I give stellar fucking blow jobs.
Tenn casually places the cue stick on the table and walks up to me. I would expect him to have a smirk on his face, but his eyes are deadly serious. “I win. Now you have to answer my question.”
“What?” I ask in confusion, because I’m still boggled that he didn’t throw the game.
“My question,” he repeats. “I want to know the name of the man that hurt you. I want the name of the fucker that made you want to use men and toss them away like yesterday’s garbage.”
My face flames red with mortification, not because he called me a user of men. But red with embarrassment that he has seemingly figured me all out. That he has managed to narrow down my entire existence to just one small name.
Taking in a deep breath, I let it out shakily. I try to resolve my voice but it quakes with unease as I deny him. “There’s no name.”
Tenn’s eyes flick back and forth between mine, probing deep for a hint of veracity. I hold his gaze, refusing to drop my eyes that are sagging under the weight of the untruth I just told. When it’s clear that I won’t give him what he wants, his eyes turn sad. “That’s a lie, Casey.”
I refuse to acknowledge the truth of that actual statement, so I just lift my chin up higher in defiance.
Tenn looks at me just a moment more, and then tips his head to me. “Well… thanks for the game. You have a nice night, Goldie.”
My head swivels to follow him as he steps past me and walks up to Mallory. He touches her shoulder and leans down toward her ear. “You want to get out of here?”
A loud, angry buzzing sound starts in my ears as I realize that Tenn is walking away from me. That he’s getting ready to leave with a woman whose name is so stupid, it doesn’t even bear repeating. He’s going to leave and I’m never going to see him again, and while it scares the shit out of me, I have this feeling deep down inside that I’d be making a colossal mistake if I let him walk away.
Tenn takes Mallory by the hand and holds his other out for Kyle to bump fists. “Later, dude,” he says, and then Tenn doesn’t even spare me a glance as he turns to head out the door.
He takes one step away from me, then another, and I before I can stop myself, I yell out, “Wait.”
Tenn immediately halts in his tracks, drops Mallory’s hand, and turns to look at me. I stride up to him, stopping when we’re toe to toe. His eyebrows rise in question, and his face is open and accepting.
Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly and say, “His name is Jeff.”
Chapter 8
Tenn
The fucker’s name is Jeff.
I want to hunt him down and kill him, because whatever he’s done, he’s taken a beautiful woman and made her lose herself.
Casey stares at me a moment, her eyes wide and vulnerable. I imagine Casey doesn’t suffer vulnerability well, so I’m not surprised when she drops her face and pushes past Mallory and me toward the bar. I watch as she runs behind it and grabs her purse. The other bartender says something to her but she ignores him and rushes out, straight down the hall that leads to the front door.
Shit… didn’t expect her to run that fast.
“I’m sorry… I gotta go,” I tell Mallory as I spin toward the door.
She latches onto my arm, and her eyes narrow at me. “What the hell, Tenn?”
“I’m really sorry,” I mutter as I pull my arm away and start weaving my way through the crowd in pursuit of Casey. I’ve lost sight of her so I pick up my pace, actually bumping shoulders with a few people.
When I burst out the door, I see nothing but cars in the parking lot. I look left, then right, and see a flash of golden hair bouncing as Casey runs toward her Jeep. Thankfully, my legs are longer than hers are and I manage to catch her just as she’s reaching for her door handle.
My hand latches on to her elbow. “Wait a minute, Goldie. Where are you going?”
“Home,” she says as she tries to jerk herself from my grasp, so I tighten my grip.
“Just wait,” I tell her as I turn her to face me.
Rather than pull away from me again, she surprisingly steps into me and lifts up on her tiptoes, her lip curled in a snarl. “Don’t ask, Tenn. I’m not telling you another fucking thing about him.”
She looks like a wildcat, eyes all wide and feral, her hair streaming over her shoulders in messy disarray, cheeks flushed red. I can tell there will be no reasoning with her, so I do the next best thing by taking her shoulders and pulling her closer to me. I slam my mouth onto hers and kiss the fuck out of her.
Casey struggles for all of two seconds, and then her arms are wrapped around my neck and she’s kissing me back.
Desperately.
Her soft body melts into mine, and lust shoots down to my dick when she moans softly into my mouth.
Only three seconds away from pushing her up against her Jeep and fucking her in the parking lot, I pull away. Her chest is rapidly rising and falling and her eyes are filled with confusion. I bring a hand to the side of her face and cup it, running my thumb over the modelesque swell of her cheekbone.
“I mean it,” she says in warning, her eyes looking like a caged animal again. “I won’t talk about him.”
“We don’t have to,” I assure her with a reassuring smile. “But let’s get out of here… go get a cup of coffee or something. We can talk about something else.”
“Like what?” she asks suspiciously.
Leaning in, I kiss her on the forehead and don’t miss the subtle sigh that yields from her. Sensing her need for something normal to ground her, I grab Casey’s hand and start pulling her toward my motorcycle. “It’s a nice night. We can talk about the weather if you want to.”
I sip at my coffee and look around the diner. It’s nearly empty, and the sign on the front says they close at nine PM. Plenty of time for us to sit for a bit and talk.
“Me and my girlfriends do breakfast here every Monday,” Casey says out of the blue, and my gaze slides back to her. It’s the first thing she’s said since we left the bar.
“Oh, yeah? What are they like?”
Tenderness morphs Casey’s face and her eyes go soft, telling me what I’ve suspected from the start… that she has a big heart. “Well… there’s my best friend since I was a kid…. Gabby. She’s engaged to my brother, Hunter.”
“He’s the one that owns The Last Call, right?”
“Yup. And then there’s Alyssa. She’s engaged to my brother Brody, who is Hunter’s twin.”
“And he’s the one that spent some time in prison?” I ask.
Casey’s eyebrows rise in question, so I supply her before she can ask. “Kyle told me. I guess Andrea filled him in on the whole group.”
“Did she tell him that Brody went away for a crime he didn’t commit?”
Now it’s my turn for my eyebrows to rise. “No. Guess she didn’t tell him that piece of info.”
Casey shrugs her shoulders. “It’s not something that people know outside of our family and small group of friends. Andrea probably thought that was too personal to share.”
I don’t tell her that Andrea apparently shared a bit of personal information about Casey… like her penchant for wealthy men. It’s not like Andrea told Kyle anything sordid… just that Casey only dated the rich elite, that she was surprised she agreed to have dinner with me, and that she never had a long-term relationship, seeming to just bounce from guy to guy. I sort of drew my own conclusions from that.
“Then there’s Savannah, who used to be my roommate, who is with Gavin, who is this really big-time author, and well, you know Andrea. That’s my group of girls,” Casey says vaguely.
I want to ask her more about Brody, and I definitely want to hear more about her friends because I’d bet my Harley they’re nothing like Casey since they’re all in committed relationships. But I don’t, because I want to ask her about something else. I promised not to ask her anything more about Jeff, but I’m insanely curious about why she targets just rich men.
And I know that the best way to get information is to share information.
“I have a daughter,” I tell her abruptly.
I’m completely blown away when Casey’s eyes soften even further, and she gets the sweetest smile on her face that pops out two dimples. “You do?” she asks with delighted surprise.
I grin and nod. “Her name’s Zoey and she just turned fourteen. Her mom—my ex-wife—relocated to Raleigh a few months ago. That’s the reason I rode out here with Kyle… to see Zoey.”
Casey snickers and picks up her coffee cup. She takes a sip and looks at me over the rim with sparkling eyes.
“What?” I ask, curious as to what has amused her so much.
She chuckles and sets the cup down. Leaning her crossed forearms on the table, she says, “It’s just… you and I have been very intimate with each other and I don’t know anything other than your name and that you’re from Wyoming, and now, of course, that you have a daughter named Zoey.”
I lean back in the booth and stretch my legs out, caging Casey’s legs between my own. Spreading my arms wide, I say, “I’m an open book. What do you want to know?”
“Well, for starters… how old are you? I mean, you have a fourteen-year-old daughter.”
“Thirty-three,” I tell her. “Had Zoey when I was nineteen.”
“And what do you do for a living?”
“Currently, I’m a motorcycle mechanic in between jobs. Prior to that, I was in the Marine Corps and prior to that, I worked on a cattle ranch.”
“Wow,” Casey says with surprise. “A biker, a Marine, and a cowboy. You like have all the hot guy tropes covered.”
Chuckling, I move my legs in closer together so I’m touching hers. It’s not much, but for some unexplained reason, I want the physical connection with her. “I think you’re romanticizing it just a bit. As a mechanic, I perpetually have grease under my fingernails, as a Marine in the desert, I sometimes went days without showering, and as a ranch hand, I smelled like cow shit at the end of the day.”
“Yeah,” she huffs, “but you like have all those tattoos and muscles. I could definitely overlook the other stuff.”
We both laugh, and I can see most of the tension has lifted from her shoulders. We enjoy a moment of comfortable silence, sipping at our coffees.
“What about you?” I finally ask. “What’s your story?”
Casey shrugs her shoulders and lowers her gaze. “Not much to tell. I just turned twenty-six, born and raised here in the Outer Banks. I tried to make a living as a real estate agent but I pretty much suck at that, so now I bartend. Oh, and I flunked out of college after a year, which still pains my mother.”
“I don’t buy it,” I tell her with a shake of my head.
“Buy what?”
“You flunked out of college. You’re too smart.”
She nods in understanding with her lips quirked. “Let me clarify… I flunked out of college because I was rebelling. Too much partying and not enough studying.”
“Rebelling? You?” I ask sarcastically.
Casey laughs, dips her face, and traces the edge of her coffee cup with her finger. When she raises her head, her eyes are sad and serious. “I had a rough senior year in high school… with Brody getting sent to prison and… well, just some other stuff. I sort of went a little crazy when I got out of this town. It was my chance to be someone different. To act without consequences.”
“To bury your troubles in alcohol,” I guess.
She nods with a sheepish grin. “And pot. Lots and lots of pot.”
“Hey… most kids that age go a little crazy. Who you are today isn’t who you were back then.”
Casey’s lips flatten as if I said something distasteful, but she nods her head in agreement. “That’s for sure.”
The waitress comes to our table with a pot and tops off our coffees. While Casey doctors hers up with a ton of cream and sugar, I take the opportunity to satisfy my curiosity.
“Kyle mentioned something interesting to me,” I edge into the conversation. “He said that Andrea was surprised you showed interest in me. Am I so different than other men you’ve gone out with?”
Casey’s eyes snap to mine. She stares at me shrewdly for a minute, and then narrows her eyes. “I’m guessing if Andrea told Kyle that, who in turn passed that on to you, then she also told Kyle about the type of man I normally go out with, right?”
Fuck. Busted.
Before I can even open my mouth to admit that, she continues. “I know Andrea must have said something because of what you said to me earlier. You said I used men and tossed them away like yesterday’s garbage.”
I groan internally, because I really had not meant to say it that way. I was still pissed that she was able to walk away so easily after that incredible night we shared.
“Casey, Andrea didn’t—”
She holds a hand up and waves my words away impatiently. “I love Andrea. She’s my friend. I know she never would have said anything that cast me in a derogatory light. So what I’m guessing is she told Kyle the truth. That I don’t do relationships. I casually date, and I only date wealthy men. And of those men that I keep around for more than a few dates, I only do so because they understand my boundaries. Now, whether that is what Kyle in turn relayed to you is another matter, but there you have it… I don’t go out with men like you. Period. End of story.”
