I spin on my heel, more than ready to get away from him, but he grabs my wrist, stopping my flight.
“Just fucking wait,” he growls.
“No. Now, get your hands off me.”
Instead of doing as I ask, he tugs me to him so that my body is flush with his. His other hand goes to my back, fingers pressing into my skin, holding me in place. The feel of his hard body against mine is painfully familiar. And an ache starts to throb deep inside of me.
My heart is beating out of my chest, and my palms are starting to sweat. Because more than anything, I want to feel his skin pressed up against mine. Every naked inch of him. I want to lick and kiss and taste every single part of him.
“I don’t want you to go with him.” His voice is low, raw.
And it exposes me.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t want you to bring Sienna here, but we don’t always get what we want.” The words are out before I can stop them.
I watch his face blank as his chin jerks back.
Mortification and regret shower down over me like a bad storm.
I shouldn’t have said that. I just basically told him how I feel in a roundabout way.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I definitely need to get away from him—now.
As if my prayer is answered, I see a furious Sienna stomping toward us. And to be fair, she’s right to be angry. Carrick is currently pressed up against me after he left her to try to stop me from leaving with Leandro.
I’d be angry, too.
Actually, I am angry. I’m bloody furious.
He’s here with Sienna. He shouldn’t be behaving this way with me. It’s definitely a case of him having his cake and wanting to eat it.
Well, there’ll be no eating of this cake tonight. Or ever again.
I’m done.
“Speaking of your girlfriend, she’s coming over, and she doesn’t look happy.”
He doesn’t say anything. He’s just staring at me like he hasn’t even heard what I said.
“Did you hear me, Carrick? Sienna is coming over, so let me go.”
But he doesn’t let go. He just continues to stare into my eyes, and my resolve is starting to break.
“Carrick, please, you need to let me go.” My words come out in a pleading whisper.
Suddenly, his hands drop away from me like I just shocked him. His eyes are bright with a panic I don’t understand.
Without another word, I’m out of there, pushing my way through the crowd to the bar.
“All right?” Petra asks me, eyeing me carefully the instant I get to her and Leandro.
“Perfect.” I force a smile, trying to ignore the adrenaline soaring through my veins.
Then, I turn to Leandro and say, “Ready to go?”
“More than ready.” He smiles.
Resting his hand on the small of my back, he guides me out of the bar.
And I don’t look back once.
“OH MY GOD! I couldn’t believe it when that guy got up on the bar and started to strip!” Petra laughs as we stumble out of the taxi.
“That was crazy!” I laugh. “But he definitely had the body to strip.”
“Right?” Petra grins at me, flashing her eyes.
It’s two a.m., and we’re just getting back from the party that Leandro took us to.
When we arrived there, we met up with Leandro’s mechanics. They were all great guys. Petra and I had such a good time. And Leandro was awesome. I had such a laugh with him. The guy is hilarious. He kept telling me jokes and cracking me up. And you know, I didn’t once think about how hard today had been for me. Or about Carrick. And contrary to what Carrick had said, Leandro didn’t hit on me once. He was a true gentleman.
He did however give me his number and asked me to call him.
I might, but just as friends, and nothing more. He’s hot and fun, but it just wouldn’t be a good idea.
It was just nice to be out having fun and not think about my Carrick woes.
But now, I’m back at the hotel, knowing Carrick’s here somewhere with Sienna, probably in bed.
Ugh. God.
So, yeah, I’m back to torturing myself by thinking about him again.
Will this ever end? I just wish I could scrub my feelings for him away, so I’d be free of feeling this way.
I think I just need some distance, and I’m hoping I’ll get that in Canada. Sure, Carrick will be there, but he’ll be busy training. I’ll have time to get my head straight.
Petra and I stumble in through the deserted lobby, giving a cheeky wave to the night desk manager when he greets us.
I let out a big yawn, more than ready to fall into my bed and pull a pillow over my head, when Petra comes to a sudden standstill.
“Andi…” she murmurs low.
“Hmm?”
“Carrick’s over there in the bar.”
I raise my eyes to find him sitting at the hotel bar, a glass of amber liquid in his hand, held midair. His eyes are fixed firmly on me. His hair is all ruffled up, like he’s been driving his hand through it all night. He’s still in his tux. Well, the jacket is gone, and his shirtsleeves are rolled up, but he still looks as handsome as ever. But what is holding my attention is his expression. He looks lost and angry and relieved all at the same time. It’s one hell of a combination.
Blood whooshes to my ears with the sudden pounding of my heart, and I find myself instantly feeling sober.
“Go talk to him,” Petra urges.
“Why?”
She gives me a look. “Because he’s clearly waiting on you.”