I hate that I’ve said those words the moment they leave my lips. I hate them because they’re not true. I’ve wanted to be with Danny since the moment I met him, and every second I spend with him that want only gets stronger. I don’t push, though, because it’s clear he doesn’t see me as anything more than a friend. I don’t want to ruin what we’ve created by throwing myself at him. He’s far too important to me. Yet saying those words to Cheyenne, and watching her smirk grow, makes me wish I had the balls to throw myself at him and take a chance. That’s not me though; I don’t take chances. That’s my problem.

“Here’s your drink.”

I hear Danny’s voice, and I pray that he didn’t hear me practically tossing him at my sister. I turn, and smile as I take the drink. His eyes aren’t as playful as they were when he walked off. I swallow, horrified that I could be so careless. Friends or not, I basically just gave my sister permission to take him for herself.

Cheyenne turns when she notices him, and takes a step forward, stopping in front of him and flashing a winning smile. She stretches her fingers out, and runs them down the front of his gray suit. He meets her gaze for a long, heated moment. I swallow and pain rips through my body.

“Hey, Spike. Fancy a dance?”

Danny turns his eyes to mine, and for a long moment he stares at me. It’s like he’s giving me a chance to say no, to pull him back and tell him I never want his hands on another woman. That the idea of anybody else touching him burns me so badly I can hardly breathe.

I say nothing, though. I can’t. I don’t want to be the girl who falls in love with her best friend, and ruins what they’ve created. I don’t want him to turn to me, and wonder why I ever opened my mouth and caused a problem between us.

No, I won’t be that girl. Danny is my friend, and I love him more than he’ll ever know, and unless I know for sure he feels the same, then he’ll never find out what my heart wants.

I’m sure I see a flash of pain in his eyes, but he quickly covers it with a hard, sexy expression. He turns to Cheyenne and grins down at her, his smile wide and alluring. Something inside me dies a little. And fuck, it’s my fault. Every moment of pain I feel is on me.

“I’d love a dance,” he purrs, taking her hand and turning her, leading her to the dance floor.

That’s it for me. That was the one moment in life, when you get a chance to change everything for yourself and you don’t take it.

I didn’t take my moment.

My moment just walked away from me.

And somehow I knew, right there, standing in the middle of the dance floor...that I wouldn’t get my moment back.

CHAPTER 9

PRESENT - SPIKE

I roll, and the hot, tiny body beside me groans and moves. I open my eyes, and blink over and over until they’re not blurred any longer. The first thing I see is the blonde hair spread out over my pillow: thick, beautiful, blonde hair that smells like fuckin’ vanilla. I let my eyes slide down, and I sigh deeply. Motherfucker. Ciara.

My gaze rakes her naked body; perfect little tits swelling out over the top of my sheets. Long, lean neck that’s covered in my marks. Marks I made while I was fuckin’ balls deep inside her. Her large, pretty fuckin’ lips are parted, and she’s breathing deeply.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

What the fuck have I done? I’ve fucked the one girl I swore I’d never fuck again. I swore I’d stay away. Swore I’d fucking keep my hands off her and yet she’s here, in my bed, sleepin’ soundly after I buried myself in her all night. Fuck.

I’m such a fuckin’ idiot. I should have stayed away, but then last night happened. She saw me watchin’ that couple, and she fuckin’ liked it. Her cheeks flushed, her body got hot, and she was lookin’ at me like she wanted to fuckin’ eat me alive. I should have walked away then. That was the moment I should have turned, but here I am...and now I don’t want to fuckin’ walk away. I want her. I need her. I don’t want any other fucker touchin’ her, and that scares the fuck outta me.

‘Cause it ain’t fuckin’ right.

She shouldn’t be here.

Another groan and she rolls. Fuck. I get out of the bed, jerking on a pair of boxers and creeping outta the room like a fuckin’ freak.

I head down the hall and into the kitchen. Granger is standing at the counter, smoking, as always. He raises his brows when I come out, and I give him a ‘Don’t fuckin’ say a word’ kind of expression. He grins at me. Fuckin’ asshole.

“Busy night, Prez?”

“Somethin’ like that,” I growl, pulling out a cigarette and bringing it to my lips, lighting it.

“That bitch you got in there can scream. Fuck me, kept me awake all night.”

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

I glare at him, and he puts his hands up. “Special one?”

“Ciara,” I grunt.

“I’m fuckin’ sorry, what did you say?”

Here we fuckin’ go.

“I said, it’s Ciara.”

He slowly lowers his cigarette, crushing it out before looking up at me with fierce eyes.

“Are you fuckin’ brain-dead?”

“No, I’m fuckin’ not.”

“What the fuck have you been fightin’ for? You’ve been bustin’ your balls tryin’ to keep her away for weeks, and now you’re divin’ balls deep into her? Fuck, Prez, what the fuck is wrong with you?”




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