Pieces of Us (Confessions of the Heart, #3)(26)

Not when it felt like everything I knew as my normal had been knocked to the right. Thrown off-balance.

Blood pounding with the need to get inside a tight, warm body. To feel hands on my skin. A mouth moving with mine.

To give a big middle finger to all the bullshit and questions and sum of my past, and go after the one thing in the world that had ever made me feel like I could be a better man. The person who had made me a better man, even when that better would never be good enough.

And it definitely wasn’t Clarissa that fit that bill.

But that was my fault, wasn’t it?

I’d used her just as badly as she’d used me. But I couldn’t seem to stop torturing myself by going to her again and again.

Nothing but a bad reminder of every mistake I’d made.

Like I felt this intrinsic need to keep one foot firmly planted in the past.

“Where have you been?” she asked, words a flirty pout. As flirty as her hand that was suddenly squeezing my upper thigh. “I’ve missed you.”

I shifted an inch away.

“I’ve been busy.”

She tittered out a laugh. Everything about her was seductive. But it was the kind of seduction you knew would strike you in the end.

The girl looked like a viper.

Her bite just as deadly.

“Tell me you’re not sittin’ here saying you’ve been too busy for me? That’s not very nice,” she cooed, like she actually thought she was cute.

I hesitated, warring, unrest growing stronger.

How the hell was I supposed to handle her?

Thing was, I had to. No chance was I going over to Izzy’s tomorrow when I had this hanging over my head.

Didn’t want to be a dick, but it’s not like what Clarissa and I had was hearts and flowers.

We were nothing but grudges and shame.

I blew out a sigh, scrubbed a hand over my face.

She laughed a bitter sound, her voice mocking. “Tell me you’re kidding.”

A frown pulled to my brow. “Didn’t say anything.”

She shook her head, and a smirk was curling at the corner of her mouth. “Don’t even pretend like you weren’t getting ready to say what you were getting ready to say. I know you better than anyone else.”

Bullshit.

But I didn’t argue with her. Figured she was due her anger.

“You and I both know this is going nowhere,” I told her, voice just loud enough so she could hear me over the din in the bar.

She squeezed my thigh tighter, face coming up close to mine. “So what you’re telling me is you want to take this somewhere?”

I reached under the table and pried her hand away. “No, Clarissa. This can’t happen anymore. Never should have happened in the first place.”

She was the worst mistake I’d ever made.

Her expression turned into something smug, hurt and defiance just showing underneath. “Should we count the number of times you’ve told me that before?”

She leaned in closer, her lips almost touching mine. “And you always, always come crawling back.”

“Not this time,” I grated. Disgust billowed, my regret thicker than the air in the dingy bar. Suffocating and dark.

She laughed a derisive sound. “You’re so adorable. No wonder all these fools think you’re so sweet and innocent. But I know better than that, don’t I?”

Anger surged through my veins.

“Stick to your own kind.” My father’s reproach rang in my ear like the imprint of a bad dream. Funny how I hated every fucking word that had come out of that bastard’s mouth, and somehow, I’d taken that one thing as wisdom.

Seeing Izzy had me wondering if I’d had it all wrong. If maybe things had been different.

I angled down, getting in her face, making her rock back an inch. “I’m not fucking around, Clarissa. This ends now. Both of us deserve better than what the other has to offer.”

Her dark eyes danced. Fucking feeding from the turmoil.

She slid out of the booth, but she leaned over the table, a hand on my chest as she dipped down. Our noses brushed as she whispered, “No, Mack, you and I both deserve exactly what we have to offer . . . nothing.” She ran a fingertip down my cheek. “And you and I both know it’ll only take a little bit of time before your back begging for it. You might have the rest of this city fooled, but remember, I know who you are.”

“I was seventeen,” I told her through clenched teeth.

“And you think that changes anything? You’re still the same guy, and I’m still the same girl. Don’t ever forget that. You belong to me, and you always will.”

She straightened, all that sex rolling from her in waves, her hips swishing as she turned, casting me a look from over her shoulder. “See you around, Mack Boy.”

A disturbance rustled through my senses. Moaning from within. The reminder of who I’d been.

And I wondered if I had any chance of escaping him.



I let myself into the sweeping darkness of my small house. It was in an older neighborhood in Charleston, mostly families and retired couples. That same silence bounded back, and all the questions I’d been hearing earlier came at me tenfold after running into Clarissa.

Wasn’t like that had been a surprise.

It was our normal rendezvous.