Heartless Page 14

  As the months turned into years, Mason’s personality changed. He busted his ass six days a week trying to make enough for them to live on. If he wasn’t working at the garage, there were things around the house that needed to be fixed. Mason became hyper focused on Hunter reaching the NFL. He no longer wanted me hanging around the house or distracting Hunter from his academics.

  In hindsight, I shouldn’t have believed Mason when he said that I was smothering Hunter. He convinced me that I was the one standing in the way of his brother’s goals. I didn’t want Hunter to lose anything more and I certainly didn’t want to be the reason he lost out on scholarship opportunities that would be necessary for him to attend college.

  I loved Hunter more than life itself and only wanted the best for him. If I wasn’t the best, then I wanted to give him the chance to find it.

  So I let him go.

  The memories disintegrate when Mason steps toward me, closing the distance between us. His proximity has my heart slamming painfully against my ribcage.

  Unlike Hunter, his brother’s physical appearance hasn’t changed. There are now lines bracketing his eyes and his hair is longer than it once was, but other than that, he’s still recognizable.

  My brain is screaming for me to retreat but paralysis has set in and my feet refuse to move. I remind myself that this man can’t hurt me.

  I jerk my head into a tight nod and try to keep the nerves from vibrating in my voice. “Mason.”

  He advances another step, closing some of the distance between us. I’m tempted to move backward but hold my ground instead. As I sift through the emotions in his eyes, one thing is for certain—he’s not happy that I’ve returned. I’m sure he wishes that I’d kept my ass firmly planted in Wisconsin.

  “So, you decided to move home, huh?” he asks.

  My muscles tense at the accusation that fills his voice. Where I choose to live is none of Mason Price’s damn business. At eighteen years old, I’d allowed myself to be cowed by him. I’ll be damned if it happens again.

  “Yup.” I keep my lips tightly pressed together, refusing to give him any more information.

  He tilts his head as his eyes sharpen. “Weren’t enjoying Madison? It seemed like you were doing so well there.”

  A shiver slithers down my spine. It’s disconcerting to realize that he’d been keeping tabs on me. Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised by that knowledge, but I am.

  “It didn’t work out in the end.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  His gaze slides down my body before coming back to settle on my face. There’s nothing sexual about it, it’s more assessing in nature than anything else. I’m sure he’s wondering if he has anything to be worried about where his brother is concerned.

  “You look good, Skye,” he says begrudgingly. “All grown up.”

  I shrug and will my muscles to uncoil. “Three years will do that.”

  “Yes, they will.” There’s a pause as he shifts his weight. Mason is as tall and broad as his younger brother. I don’t want to feel intimidated, but I do. “Are you here to watch the game?”

  It’s a thinly veiled question that I see through. Mason is trying to figure out if I’m here to watch my ex-boyfriend.

  My hands tighten around the cardboard container I’m holding. “Yes.” I arch a brow. “Is there another reason I’d be here?”

  “Nope.” His gaze burns into mine. “Can’t think of one.”

  “Me, neither.”

  “Well, I should probably let you get back to it.” His lips quirk into a fleeting smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Take care.”

  “You do the same.”

  With that, he turns away, taking one step and then another. The pressure in my chest loosens until I’m able to breathe again.

  “Oh, and Skye?” He swings back around, the iciness in his gaze freezes me in place. “Stay the hell away from Hunter. The last thing he needs is you fucking anything up for him.” He pauses. “Got it?”

  His ugly words are like razor blades slicing expertly through my delicate flesh. I open my mouth to tell him to go to hell, but nothing comes out.

  Instead of waiting for a response, Mason pivots and disappears through the thick crowd. My heart pounds a painful tattoo against my ribcage as I stare at the space he’d been occupying.

  “Skye?”

  A hand settles on my shoulder and I shriek before spinning around with wide eyes. For a moment, I bobble the container in my hands. Lanie quickly grabs it and raises her brows in question.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you all right?” Her gaze darts from my face to the spot I’d been staring at. “What happened?”

  A shaky breath leaves my lips before I whisper, “I ran into Mason.”

  “Here? Just now?” She cranes her neck, looking down the wide corridor, but Mason is gone. It’s almost like he was never here, except my heart is jackhammering in my chest and my palms are a slippery, sweaty mess.

  “Yeah.”

  It never occurred to me that I would see him at the stadium. It should have. When Hunter was in high school, Mason never missed a game.

  Lanie squeezes my shoulder. “You look upset. What did he say to you?”

  My throat swells with emotion until it feels like I can’t breathe. “He told me to stay away from his brother.”

  “What you do is none of Mason’s fucking business,” she huffs.

  She’s right, but still…

  “He’s nothing more than a bully,” she continues. “If Hunter ever found out what he did, there’d be hell to pay.”

  “That’s exactly why he can’t find out,” I say softly.

  This isn’t the first time Lanie and I have had this conversation.

  Lanie’s voice drops to an angry whisper. “Hunter has a right to know what his brother did. It would change everything. He holds you responsible for taking off and it wasn’t your fault.”

  I shake my head before closing my eyes and gently massaging my temples. After our breakup, Hunter reached out, begging me to reconsider my decision. It was so difficult to keep the truth locked inside. I ended up blocking him so I wouldn’t be tempted to come clean.

  “No. It would ruin everything between Hunter and his brother, and I can’t allow that to happen. My relationship with Hunter is part of the past. It’s over and done with. I’ve moved on—”

  “Liar,” she accuses.

  My shoulders collapse. “Hunter has moved on.”

  This time she snorts out her disbelief. “We both know that’s not true.”

  “It is, Lanie. Hunter’s on the verge of making all his dreams a reality. If there’s anyone who deserves for that to happen, it’s him. The past needs to stay where it belongs.” I pause for a beat before adding, “and that’s in the past.”

  Lanie shakes her head and grumbles under her breath, “You should tell him.”

  “There’s no point. All I want to do is move on. Please, you need to let me do that.” I loop my arm through hers and hoist my smile. “Now, let’s get back to our seats. The game is about to start.”

  It’s a relief when Lanie doesn’t say anything more on the topic. She may not realize it, but the truth would only cause more damage and I’m not willing to do that. Hunter has endured enough pain. We both have.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Hunter

  N ormally after a football game—especially one where we pull off a W against our biggest rival—there’s a party at the beach. Since it looked like rain, the festivities have been moved to a house off-campus. Claremont has a massive football following and everyone will come out to help celebrate.

  I glance at the chaos unfolding around me.

  All right…so maybe these people like to party and will use any excuse to do so.

  It’s not even ten o’clock and this place is already packed and getting rowdy. Music blasts from outside where a live band is busy rocking it out. They’re a group of guys from campus who play at a few of the local bar
s on the weekends. I’ve heard them before and they’re pretty decent. It’s a mix of covers and their own music.

  Someone slaps me on the back as I shoulder my way through the crowd. “Awesome game, Price!”

  Thanks, pal.

  I have no idea who the guy is, but I give him a chin lift in acknowledgment.

  “That was one hell of a spiral you threw at the end of the third quarter! You singlehandedly won the game against Clemson!”

  Hardly.

  “It was a team effort, but thanks.”

  Hands continue to reach out, patting my shoulder or grabbing my arm. Usually I’d stop and shoot the shit for a couple of minutes before moving on, but I’m not in the mood to listen to a bunch of randoms rehash the game. I know what happened. I was out there on the field when it went down.

  After a win, I’m always in a fan-fucking-tastic mood. All of the tension that had been ratcheting up during the week in anticipation of the game, gets released. But that’s not the case tonight. A restlessness brews inside me that I can’t shake. Deep down, I know who’s to blame.

  Skye.

  No matter how much I try to fight it, I’m irresistibly drawn to her. As much as she’s messing with my head, I refuse to let her screw with my game. Yeah, we still won, but I made a few mistakes. Little errors that wouldn’t have happened if I was a hundred percent focused on what I was doing.

  Mason and I have a tradition. He’ll call after each game and we break it down, rehashing it one play at a time. I can’t say that his assessments aren’t spot-on, the guy knows his shit. He could coach high school if he wanted. Hell, he could probably coach college ball. He’s good. Today, as I sat waiting for his call, I was fully prepared for him to be up my ass about the miscalculations I’d made.

  You can imagine my surprise when he didn’t even mention the game. Instead, he’d been foaming at the mouth about Skye. He went off on a tangent for fifteen minutes straight about how I needed to stay away from her. It was the same old refrain—she was bad news and would end up fucking me over again if I let her. I’m not saying my brother is wrong, but he’s the last person I want to hear it from.

  I plow a hand through my hair and glance around the party. It doesn’t matter how much shit I have going on, Skye always manages to push her way to the forefront of my mind. It’s frustrating as hell.

  Maybe Mason is right. Maybe I need to stay as far away from her as I can get. She’s only been back in town for a month and already she’s wreaking havoc in my life. There are a ton of girls on campus who are dying to sleep with me. I need to find one of them—maybe more than one—and forget about my ex-girlfriend.

  An hour later, I’m nursing a bottle of water and brooding in the corner. This is fucking ridiculous. When did I become this pathetic?

  “Hi, Hunter,” a flirty female voice purrs before her hands graze my chest.

  I blink back to the present and lift the water to my lips as my gaze settles on unusual violet-hued ones.

  “Hey.” I can’t remember what this chick’s name is, but I’ve seen her around campus. She’s gorgeous with long auburn hair and a tight body.

  She couldn’t look more different than—

  Nope, not even going there.

  “Great game today,” she murmurs.

  “Were you there?”

  Her red slicked lips tilt upward at the corners. “Of course. I haven’t missed a single home game since I stepped foot on campus.”

  “Is that so?” I tilt my head and cock a brow. “Does that make you a fan of the game or the players?”

  A flash of white teeth cuts through the darkness as she chuckles and presses closer. “Can’t have one without the other, right?”

  “Got me there.” More often than not, these girls are all about the players. They couldn’t give two shits about the game. Skye was always different. During our first football season together, I taught her everything there was to know about the sport. We’d watch college games on Saturday afternoons. By the end of the season, she was the one pointing out plays to me and yelling at the refs.

  Goddamn it.

  I shove those memories away. This needs to stop. She’s screwing with my life just like I knew she would. There has to be a way for me to evict her from my head. Even if it’s for one fucking night. And maybe the chick in front of me can help do that.

  It can’t hurt, right?

  Exactly.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Skye

  “Y ou look seriously hot,” Lanie says, dragging me by the hand as we head up the walkway to the house where a massive party is spilling out. “Doesn’t she look hot, babe?”

  Lanie stares at Jaxon expectantly. His gaze slides reluctantly to me before he shakes his head and shrugs. “This feels like a trick question. Why don’t you tell me what you want me to say, babe, and I’ll say it. Wouldn’t that be easier?”

  “For Christ’s sake, it’s not a trick question.” Lanie rolls her eyes and huffs out an exasperated breath. “Just tell her that she looks smoking hot!”

  Jax glances at me from the corner of his eye before muttering, “You look good, Skye.”

  My lips tremble upward. “Thank you.”

  As we reach the porch, Lanie stops and gives me a thorough once-over. I was subjected to several rounds of intense scrutiny before we left the townhouse twenty minutes ago. Without warning, she reaches out and yanks the top of my shirt down until an obscene amount of cleavage has been beared.

  “Lanie!” I yelp. “What are you doing?” When I attempt to grab the material and tug it up, she slaps my hands away. “Ow!”

  “I’m trying to help you by showing off the girls to their best advantage.” Then she grabs my breasts and rearranges them. A groan slips free as I’m groped in front of a dozen or so people. Jaxon perks up considerably and looks way more interested in staring at me now that his girlfriend is manhandling my boobs.

  “Jeez, Lanie,” I grumble. “Is this really necessary?” Heat floods my face as I peek at the people strolling past. Most aren’t paying us any attention.

  Jaxon clears his throat. “Now that’s smoking hot.”

  Lanie smirks. “Just realize this is the closest you’re ever going to come to a threesome.”

  He shrugs. “I can live with that.”

  Once Lanie is done making adjustments, Jaxon fist bumps the guy manning the door and we’re granted access inside. With Jax taking the lead, it’s much easier to navigate the crowd. Most people—even the drunk ones—scramble out of his way. It only takes a second for us to reach the kitchen where the keg is set up. We each grab a beer and head out the back door and into the yard. A live band is playing, and everyone is drinking and dancing.

  Lanie grabs my hand and pulls me toward the smash of people. “Come on. Let’s go shake our asses!”

  We guzzle down our drinks and hand the empty glasses to Jaxon. Lanie blows him a kiss and then we’re pushing our way through the mass of writhing bodies until we’re able to carve out a small space of our own. We know all of the songs and are belting out the lyrics in each other’s faces.

  After half an hour, Jaxon joins us. He may be amazing on the football field but on the dance floor, he’s a total disaster. The guy has no rhythm whatsoever. The fact that he’s out here, giving it all he’s got for Lanie, only makes him more of a catch. I can’t stop laughing as Jax twirls us around in the grass.

  All of the problems that had been buzzing around in my brain fade to the background. It’s not something that happens very often. When it does, I need to embrace the feeling and hold onto it for as long as possible. Closing my eyes, I stretch my arms overhead and allow the music to wash over me. I feel like a balloon that is floating in the atmosphere. The heaviness that has been weighing me down, tethering me to the earth, disappears. It’s a relief not to think about my dad and the disease that is slowly killing him from the inside out.

  The only other time I’m able to forget is when I’m with Hunter. I tell myself that I need to be str
ong, but the moment he lays his hands on me, I go up in flames. Pleasure takes over and swallows me whole.

  How is it possible to love someone and hate them at the same time?

  Unwilling to allow those thoughts to take root, I shake my head and focus on the beat of the music. There’s been enough heaviness in my life. Tonight is about lighthearted fun.

  The band takes a short break and I realize that I’m a sweaty mess. But it feels good. My heart is pounding, and endorphins are pumping through my blood.

  The crowd around us disburses. “Should we head inside and grab a drink?” I ask.

  “You read my mind,” Lanie agrees, huffing and puffing. “I was just thinking that we needed liquid refreshment.”

  Once we’ve made our way to the kitchen, Jax grabs another round of beer. We clink our cups together before draining them in one thirsty gulp. A few friends join our group and we end up talking until the music starts up again. I glance around for Lanie, wondering if she’s ready to hit the dance floor again, and realize she’s MIA.

  Further investigation reveals that Jax has disappeared as well.

  Great. I can’t believe they ditched me. How much do you want to bet they’re upstairs having a quickie? Those two are ridiculous. They can’t keep their hands off each other for five freaking minutes.

  I grab a bottle of water and head to the living room. There’s a crush of people. This party is raging, everyone is out celebrating the win today. I run into a few people from my classes and wave, but there’s no sign of Lanie or Jax. I stop and chat with Anna, the girl I met at the game, but she hasn’t seen Lanie either.

  After about ten minutes, I decide to call off the search party and head back outside. Lanie and Jax will turn up eventually. Before I do that, I need to hit the bathroom. There’s a hallway to the left with a bunch of girls standing outside a closed door. I get in line and wait my turn. It takes about ten minutes for me to make it to the front. As the door opens and I step over the threshold, two girls shove their way past me.