Twisted Desire (The Twisted Series) Page 9

  “Can I say that I’m sorry about that?” She reaches out for his hand to show him some sort of affection, but he pulls his hand away before she can even touch him. She pulls her hand back and clutches onto her belt loop, feeling scorned.

  “You look sorry.” Even when he tries to scorn her, his eyes take a suggestive inspection of her body.

  It doesn’t stop her from reacting to his attitude. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “You didn’t even bother to pick up a phone. I waited for you, you know. For close to an hour.” He lifts a pitcher of beer to his lips and guzzles it down, like he has an overwhelming need to quench his thirst.

  “When you didn’t show, I’d figured I might as well enjoy a peaceful dinner. Alone. And I did. Without your big mouth there to ruin it.” The slur in his voice is the only indication that he is the one who’d polished off the many pitchers of beer cluttering his table.

  “Nice.” She doesn’t know how else to respond to him.

  “What? You think you’re the only one allowed to act like a jerk? It works both ways, darlin’.”

  “You know what?” She pauses, carefully considering her words. “Fuck you.”

  “Fuck you, too.”

  She scowls at him and leans over the table. “I came over here to apologize for being such a bitch. But now I almost want to take it back.”

  “That was hardly a worthy apology anyways. You should take it back, and do it right this time.”

  Aliah flips him the bird. There’s no sense in arguing with him when he’s in this state.

  “What?” he shouts.

  She narrows her eyes, preparing to rip him a new one. “You can’t just shut your mouth long enough for me to tell you how fucking sorry I am for ruining your night. I would have even added how nice you look, but you reek like a case of beer, which is not incredibly attractive.”

  “Fortunate for me, that isn’t the look I’m going for tonight.”

  He could have fooled her. He had loosened his tie and unfastened the top three buttons on his shirt, showing just enough flesh to toy with her imagination. His tie is flapped over a broad shoulder and it looks like his facial hair is making an early appearance. Everything about him screams sexy and she can’t even deny it.

  When Aliah notices that the girl from earlier is returning to the table with a fresh pitcher of beer, she shuffles to the edge of the bench seat. Aliah supposes she’s the reason why Harley’s bombarding her with ignorance.

  “Again, I apologize,” Aliah snaps, as the girl slides up next to Harley. But no one would believe her, with the anger in her tone. “You and your girlfriend can have fun. I’ll get out of your hair.”

  She hurries away from the table, before she shares an emotion that she prefers to bottle up and save for the privacy of her own lonely bedroom.

  Why is she reacting so strongly to this dude?

  She doesn’t want to care. But to see him with that other girl has her feeling royally rotten. She can’t stop the hesitation in her breath, and that just barely allows her to maintain her cool. Aliah stops at the bar and grabs onto it for support. She leans over and whispers in the ear of the college-aged guy next to her. He gladly orders a pair of shots for her. She tucks a bill in his pocket and he smiles, crushing the bill back into her hand.

  “It’s on me.” He licks a smiling bottom lip, as if that generosity might have earned him another sort of reward.

  He looks sweet, with his ball cap pulled low over his glimmering eyes. She smiles sideways, taking in the way his shoulders are broad like Harley’s.

  “Thanks.”

  When the bartender turns away, and Mitchell disappears into the back room, she takes the first small glass from the guy’s extended hand. As she edges it closer to her parted lips, a large, strong hand cups around hers.

  “Drop it.”

  The deep, dangerous voice that rushes over her ears can’t be mistaken for anyone else. Harley.

  She releases the glass and tucks her hands into her lap. Unexpectedly, Harley downs the first shot and chases it with the other one. She glances over her shoulder at him.

  His eyes are soft and bloodshot. “I needed those more than you. They cut me off an hour ago.”

  He is suddenly the only man in the room. She is shocked by his slurred admission and makes it her responsibility that he make it home safely. The last thing she needs is for him to crash and drown in a ditch along the way.

  What Aliah doesn’t realize is that the young man who had just purchased those drinks for her is not very pleased with Harley’s selfish swallow. This guy is on his feet and takes a swing in a matter of milliseconds, connecting with Harley’s face, only inches from her own.

  Harley’s slowed senses kick into gear and he lays the guy out with one upper cut. The guy crashes onto a table behind him, knocking a girl to the floor, splashing a full pitcher of beer on the guy next to her. Within seconds, the place breaks out into a full on beer soaked brawl.

  After knocking two more jocks on their asses, Harley tosses Aliah over his shoulder like a damsel in distress and dashes toward the door. He exits the bar and crosses the road with her that way, even as she slaps at his back. He doesn’t put her down until he reaches his motorcycle and begins to pulls his keys from his pocket.

  Aliah snatches them out of his hand. “I don’t fucking think so. You’re hammered. Why don’t we catch a cab?”

  “The cops are guaranteed to be here any minute.”

  “Then come with me.”

  “I can’t leave my bike. You go ahead. I’ll be fine.” Harley stumbles over his own two feet and laughs sardonically.

  “Harley, please don’t do this. I already feel like shit for everything I’ve done to you. It’s bad enough you’re going to have a black eye in the morning. But I couldn’t live with myself if you died because of me.”

  “I’m not leaving my bike,” he repeats, swiping a hand across his bloody lip. “I’d rather die a slow and painful death.”

  “Then let me drive it.”

  “No one drives my bike but me.”

  They both turn their heads to see the flashing lights approaching. Aliah spins back around to face him, as he snaps up his helmet and climbs onto his motorcycle.

  “You’d rather drive it into the ground, than let me take you home?” She’s so very frustrated with him right now.

  “I don’t sit backseat to anyone.”

  Ignoring his comment, she plugs the key in and hops on in front of him, practically sitting on his lap. “Get over yourself. I promise to take good care of her.”

  He can’t believe his eyes when Aliah has the bike off its kickstand and they’re speeding toward the stop sign before the cops even make their appearance. She makes it two blocks away before he can even lift his chin off her shoulder. Then she takes a sudden left.

  “My house is the other way,” he shouts over her dainty shoulder.

  The motorcycle veers down a long, dark alley and she clutches the brake, until they’re stopped at the bottom of the incline. It’s a dead end, ending right at the water’s edge. She parks the bike and tugs off his helmet.

  “What are you doing?” he asks, angered by the change of venue.

  She turns off the bike and tucks the keys into his pants pocket, gazing up into his eyes.

  He catches her chin and doesn’t let go. “Can I ask what the hell we’re doing?” He says it like he’s forgotten that he had only just asked that a second earlier.

  She pries his hand off her face and walks away. She spins back playfully, to smirk at him. “It’s called a park, Harley. What do you do at a park?”

  He looks stumped.

  “You play,” she informs him.

  He still doesn’t get it.

  “I left my wallet in my car, so I don’t have my license. It felt like you were going to roll us. If you want to kill yourself, fine. But I’d like to get home in one piece.”

  Harley can’t even deny that he’s three sheets to the win
d. “It’s not like you’re licensed to drive a motorcycle. There’s a test for that, you know.”

  When she turns back to goad him, he’s right there. “No shit. I’ve passed the test.” Her voice turns breathless in response to his proximity.

  Now he can’t stop smiling, licking at the fresh blood on his lip.

  She slides her hand under the collar of his shirt and back down his chest. “You’re too drunk to drive and I thought you were going to pass out on me back there. I doubt you’d like me very much if I crashed your bike. You need to sober up a bit before we go any farther.” She pats his cheek twice and then saunters toward the play equipment. She can feel his eyes following her.

  “Are you still referring to riding, or is this more about us now?” His voice is but a low growl.

  She freezes in place, intrigued by that reference. “I’d really like you to accept my apology, if that’s what you mean. But I’m not going to throw myself at you to do it.” She takes a few steps and spins around, slouching into a black slat swing. Her hands hang from the chain above her head. “So, if that’s what you’re waiting for, you’ll be sorely disappointed.”

  “You want the truth?” His voice sounds painfully honest, as he grasps onto the chains on either side of her hips and pushes her backward, leaving her suspended a few feet in mid-air above his shoulders. “I don’t know if I can do that so soon – accept your apology. The wound is still gaping.”

  The dangerous flicker in his eyes shows that he’s only kidding. Aliah reaches out to slap him, but he grabs onto her hand and tugs her close. She crashes against him and their gazes collide. His eyes are sparkling midnight, like a dark, dreamy nightmare. She wants to kiss him, as she slides down his body. Gravity has her standing on tip-toes but something else has Harley held rigid against her.

  She hasn’t wanted to kiss a man in years. But as he eases closer, her parted lips quiver and she considers it. With eyes pressed closed, she turns her cheek. He kisses her there and pauses, absorbing the silence.

  “I’m sorry,” he finally says.

  “I’m sorry,” she interrupts. She doesn’t know what her problem is either. “I’m messed up, alright? I’m just not ready for that kind of commitment.”

  “A little harmless kiss is commitment to you?” His smile has butterflies battling in her lungs and tumbling in her stomach.

  Aliah inhales sharply. “It’s not the commitment I’m afraid of.”

  She instantly wishes she hadn’t shared that with him. He gets her talking too much. Besides, it is only partly true. She has no issue with commitment herself. It’s him she’s worried about.

  “Then what are you so afraid of?” Harley’s eyes are squinted, as if he’s trying to sneak a peek at her soul. His moist, warm lips are so close she can almost taste them. She steps away and discreetly gasps for air, as though he has been starving her of it.

  “I have my reasons, okay? Can we just leave it at that?”

  When he steps up behind her, she doesn’t step away. He reaches for her right hand and grabs onto it. “It’s okay to feel scared. This shit can get scary. But do you see me running?”

  The warmth of his body against hers is superficial but soothing. She squeezes his hand involuntarily. “You don’t understand.”

  “Don’t I? You stood me up tonight, woman.”

  She glances up at Harley over her shoulder. “Look… I’ve been hurt, okay?” Her pale eyes share her hesitation. “I’ve battled for love and lost. I’m not looking to have my heart trampled on like that again any time in the near future.”

  He squeezes onto her hand. “I didn’t realize how fresh it was.”

  Aliah turns away and glances at the ground. “It’s not fresh. It was two years and three months ago.”

  “You’re counting.”

  “Wouldn’t you?”

  “No,” he answers frankly.

  Aliah’s voice is soft and careful. “You act like you know. But how could you?”

  “You’re right. I couldn’t.”

  Aliah really wants nothing more than to run away from this conversation right now, but she senses his sarcasm and knows it has to happen if they are ever going to get past this night. “Why…” She sighs, not even knowing what she’s trying to say. “How do you know?”

  “Are you sure you want to hear that answer?”

  She really does, but she catches herself backpedalling. “You know? You’re right. You’re drunk and you’ll probably regret this whole conversation tomorrow. Maybe we should lighten up and save it for another day. Maybe after our first date.”

  Harley’s laugh echoes through the dark night. “Are you calling this our first date?”

  She tries to tug her hand away, but he won’t let it go. “No!” she screeches, like she’s horrified.

  “You just did.”

  “I did no such thing!” The higher her voice rings, the more he laughs.

  After the echoes of laughter drift into the night, Harley nuzzles his nose next to her ear. “You need to let him go, if you’re ever going to move on.” He releases Aliah’s hand and she walks away from him, to look out over the calm water.

  Aliah has always found it easier to get her thinking done at night time. She likes it when she’s alone. She has spent many a nights at that very same park, expressing herself to the wind. The only thing missing tonight is her can of mace. She had forgotten that in her car, in a rush to drown her troubles.

  She stands there wondering why so much time has passed and yet she’s still clinging to the short-lived love affair that happened between her and Hunter Wight. He was sweet, gentle, kind. But then he’d cheated on her. Harley was right. She’d never gotten past the sting of that deed. It had nothing to do with love. They’d kissed and made up, but it was never quite the same.

  Aliah had fallen out of love with him over time. She’d been more married to the idea of love, then to its relation to Hunter. She’d only refused to admit it to herself then. Apparently it only takes a surprisingly sweet, hulking drunkard to teach her that.

  She seethes near the water, wondering what this means for her. She certainly isn’t ready to throw another two years away on a man who doesn’t want her. It is then when she realizes that Harley is standing behind her again, and she wonders how long he’s been waiting, listening to her thoughts.

  She glances at him over her shoulder and smiles. He tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and traces the length of her jaw with his index finger. She closes her eyes, shivering from the intimacy of his touch.

  Harley reaches his arms around her tiny waist and inhales the sweet scent emanating from her neck, then he presses his lips there. “Do you want to talk about it?” His lips move softly over her sensitive flesh.

  “I don’t know if I’m ready.”

  Harley laces his fingers with hers. “I’ve got all night.”

  Aliah smiles softly and tugs on his hand to put them in motion. They slowly traverse the gravel path that winds next to the water’s edge. Neither of them speak. They just listen to the summer night. The crickets. The rustling leaves. The soft water flowing next to them.

  The moon makes the swelling water sparkle, and the serene feeling envelopes her, as she walks hand in hand with this ethereal beast, dressed in a suit.

  Aliah smiles up at him, as they grow closer to his bike, having walked the entire park circulation, her eyes glittering with acceptance.

  “You should smile more often. It looks good on you.”

  She bites down on her lower lip. She tries to stop herself from smiling like a fool, but loses the battle.

  Aliah’s eyes flutter to the ground. “It wasn’t all good.”

  He squints at her, having not read her thoughts. “What wasn’t?”

  “Love. It hurt more often than not. I’m not really sure what the excitement is all about.”

  Harley tilts his head to capture her gaze. “I wouldn’t know.”

  Aliah drops her chin and looks up at him, incredulously. “You’ve
never been in love?” Her voice echoes down the long driveway, as she props her rear-end on a chipped, old picnic table.

  He releases her hand and grips onto her waist to help her up. “Not that I know of,” he admits, sounding completely serious.

  Aliah smiles softly. “If you have to think about it, then you definitely haven’t. It’s not a feeling you forget too quickly.” Her voice floats over them like a whimsical cloud of dreams.

  Harley nods slowly. “You’re still in love with him.” He states it like a fact and doesn’t even disguise his disappointment.

  “No,” she answers matter-of-factly. “It’s hard to love someone when they don’t reciprocate the feeling.”

  Harley clears his throat. “So I’ve heard.”

  “It sounds like you’ve had love before. Is it that girl from Riley’s?”

  That slut certainly wishes it is.

  “Jillian?” He looks shocked and appalled by her suggestion and tries to cover his response with a chuckle.

  Aliah shrugs her shoulders indifferently. “You two looked pretty cozy tonight. She kept touching you like you were intimately acquainted.”

  Harley raises a brow and smiles. “I’m afraid Jillian is taken.”

  “Are you disappointed about that?”

  He outright laughs this time. “I do wish I had more say in her selection of men.”

  Aliah’s confusion shows on her face. “What do you care, if it’s not you?”

  Their eyes connect, his smile transmitting a secret message to her. “I need my assistant to be happy. There’s nothing worse than working next to a miserable woman all day.”

  Aliah nods her head, but she’s not completely satisfied with his answer. What kind of job can he possibly work that requires an assistant? She only wishes that was her main concern.

  “Any other questions?” he asks, almost goading her.

  “Yeah. One,” Aliah admits, unafraid to stir the pot. “Did you fuck her?”

  His head snaps up to look at her again. His words remain on his lips for a few seconds before he shares them with her. “We have a very good working relationship.”

  “You fucked her.” Aliah turns away, with an unfriendly snarl on her face. Why is she suddenly so angry?