That Secret Crush (Getting Lucky #3)(55)

“You’re upset. I upset you. I’m sorry. Please, let’s talk about this.”

I pause my packing and look her in the eye. “This isn’t on you, Ruth—this is on him. I have to get going.”

“I don’t like that you’re going to leave upset. I feel terrible.”

“Don’t.” I pat her hand. “You actually helped me.”

“You’re not going to break up with him, are you? You two are so cute together.”

“No, I’m not; I don’t think I have that in me, but he owes me an explanation. That’s for damn sure.”

I give her a quick hug and take off for my apartment right as I shoot off a text to Reid.

Eve: My place, tonight. We need to talk.





CHAPTER SEVENTEEN





REID


Dead man walking.

Yup.

Whenever your significant other texts the words We need to talk, it’s never fucking good.

Ever.

With the way Eve stormed off the dock and has been ignoring my texts, I can feel our relationship’s impending doom. And to be honest, I don’t even think I’m going to fight her over it. She deserves better; she deserves more. Not some guy who’s fucked up in the head with no future to speak of. She deserves a man who can actually communicate and who’s going to be there for her when she needs a cheerleader or a shoulder to cry on. She doesn’t need a man who’s going to test her limits—or keep secrets.

I lean against the hood of my truck and stare at the small basement apartment window that faces the parking lot. My breath floats like a white cloud into the air as I let out a long sigh. Hell, maybe I am cursed with broken love. Here I was, lucky as shit to even have Eve look my way, and then I fuck it all up because I can’t seem to get my head on straight.

She’s so goddamn perfect—from her personality to her intelligence to her fine-ass body and beautiful eyes. She’s my dream woman, the person I’ve had a crush on for over a decade, but when I finally get the chance to be with her, I go and push her away.

I’d never admit this to Brig—or either of my other brothers for that matter—but I can’t seem to write off the notion that something truly happened to us in New Orleans, that perhaps some cosmic force did strike us in the hearts, dooming our chances at love until we screw our heads on straight.

Or I’m just the world’s biggest dumb-ass, the guy who pushed away the woman he’s been pining after for years—and all for a job that won’t work out anyway.

My heart in my throat, I push off my truck and head to her apartment. It almost feels like walking the plank, but instead of man-eating sharks, my fate involves Eve ripping out my goddamn heart.

I have no one to blame but myself.

Nerves completely shot, I lift my fist to knock on the door—just as it opens. Eve stands on the other side wearing a pair of silky red shorts, a black tank top, and a smile.

A smile?

I almost expected her to be wearing a black turtleneck and a menacing scowl powerful enough to shrivel up any pair of balls that gets in her way.

“Hey.” I can barely get the word out before her arms are wrapping around my neck and pulling me into her warm apartment while her lips find mine.

What is . . . fuck, her mouth is so amazing.

Warm and soft, she kisses me, shuts the door, and pushes me up against it. This feels familiar but with roles reversed. Her hands run from my shoulders down over my pecs to my stomach, where she starts to undo my pants.

What the hell is happening right now? Not that I should really care—Eve is trying to take my pants off. Now is not the time for questions.

An instant later, my jeans fall to the ground, and one of her hands shoots into my briefs, cupping my already-hard cock.

“Fuck,” I say against her lips. She squeezes, and a hiss falls past my lips as she pumps her hand up my length. “Eve, what—”

She silences me with her mouth, her tongue diving in deep, dancing with mine, matching my strokes. She’s aggressive, needy, and I find myself feeling the same exact way.

Getting myself together, I pull down the front of her tank top and take her breast in my hand. I roll her nipple between my fingers, enjoying her moan, which I capture with my mouth. I move over to the next breast, yanking down on her top even more, not caring in the slightest if I rip the damn thing.

Needing more, I lift her up, and her legs wrap around my waist, my cock rubbing against her backside. My mouth falls to her tits, and I suck one in as her head falls back, exposing her beautiful long neck. Shit, I need to be inside her now, more than anything I’ve ever needed in my life. There’s no time for going to the bedroom or even the couch for that matter. I drop down to the floor and make quick work of my clothes as she does the same.

We’re frantic, we’re frenzied—we’re a pair of uncontrollable addicts looking for their next fix. She sprawls on the ground, pulling me on top of her and rubbing my cock along her slit.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” I mutter, shutting my eyes at how goddamn amazing she feels.

In response, she guides my cock to her entrance.

“Condom, babe.”

“I’m on the pill,” she says right before slipping me inside.

“Fuck,” I growl. “Shit, Eve.”

Without a word, she flips me to my back and fully fills herself as she sits down on my lap, her hips rocking back and forth, starting a rhythm I’m not quite ready for as my cock swells inside of her.