Draw (Gentry Boys #1)(23)

Now she looked at me. Without a waver she said, “I think you’re right, Saylor. There are a million mysteries wrapped up in every heart. It would be foolish to believe they can be easily sorted.”

I couldn’t even articulate what was going on in my own heart. “There’s something there, Millie. I knew Cord from about kindergarten I guess. First he was this dirty little kid who I avoided. Then he was this brutally hot guy I secretly crushed on and then finally just a cold jerk who hurt me…” My voice trailed off and Millie stared at me.

“And now?” she prodded.

“I don’t know,” I said honestly. I thought about Cord telling me a terrifying story from his own painful childhood. And about the way his blue eyes would squint for a second when he focused on me, as if the sight of me was surprisingly unfamiliar. I also thought about the way his muscled body looked in his wet boxers and felt a delicious little shudder roll through my core. Then I remembered Devin and how for a while I’d thought I loved him.

“Maybe,” I considered, “I just don’t quite trust my own judgment right now.”

But Millie scolded me with a light tap on the arm. “That’s one thing you should never doubt, girlfriend.”

“Do you ever feel that way?”

“No,” she answered immediately. “No, I don’t.”

Being around Millie was like being around Brayden. I felt a surge of affection and impulsively I hugged her. She wasn’t startled. She merely hugged me back and then broke away, laughing that I stunk of chlorine.

“Well, think I’ll go haul my stinky ass to the shower,” I said.

I always turned the water as close to blistering as I could stand it and stood under there for an eternity. When I’d done that at Cord’s apartment he’d gotten worried that I was in there breaking open my wrists or something. That thought never crossed my mind though. When the hot water cascaded over my skin and the steam hung so heavy it was like a cloud on earth, all the sorrow and unpleasantness of the day’s hours were blotted away. I didn’t have to think about the reflexive clenching of my jaw whenever Devin called with his wheedling promises. The uncertainty of my employment prospects seemed, for a short time, inconsequential. The memories of Emblem didn’t intrude, nor did the people I would have preferred to forget.

Cord.

His face found me anyway. I grimaced and turned the spray on full blast, letting the tiny knives of hot water pound my back. When he’d told me that awful story about his father and the pool, my heart had hurt for the boy he was. For all three of them, actually. It was a sorry lot to be born to. My father and his poker buddies used to have their own fabricated punchline.

“How do you know a Gentry has been in your house? Your cat’s in the oven and there’s shit in the sink.”

The Gentrys. They were a running joke in a town where no one was really living high. Maybe that’s what made it worse though. Emblem existed in the shadow of a place where men were locked up after they did terrible things. It was a curious symbiosis between the town and the nearby prison, which was overwhelmingly the largest employer in the area. Without the prison, Emblem would likely wither away, eventually becoming one of those half remembered ghost towns which littered the west. Maybe that’s why the bruises of three unruly boys didn’t cause too many eyes to bat.

Cord Gentry’s bruises weren’t all in the past though. Uneasily I recalled the way his knuckles had been all swollen and cut up the night I crashed on his couch. He’d clammed up when I questioned him about it and even put me in my place a little. Battered knuckles didn’t just materialize out of nowhere though. Obviously, he’d been in a fight. But what of his vague smile and the way he called it ‘work’?

The thought of Cord’s bruised hands prompted a curious tug in my belly, similar to the way I’d felt as a child when my old cat, Nancy, had limped home with her leg swollen from a scorpion sting. I was surprised at how much I hated the idea of him being hurt.

As my mind wandered to the jolting recent memory of his nearly naked body in the pool and the obvious strength in his powerful hands, my thoughts turned to a less wholesome place. Yes, I’d recognized the look in his eyes for what it was, even though he hadn’t done a thing about it except for that sweet forehead kiss, which seemed born more out of companionship than passion. It went without saying that Cord could have any girl he wanted. He’d proven that long ago. And though he’d had rotten intentions that spring afternoon when he waved to me in front of the Emblem Public Library, I had wanted him too. As I wanted him now.

An inner voice kept screaming at me, It’s Cord Fucking Gentry, you idiot! I knew that. I also knew I shouldn’t want any guy fresh on the heels of the Devin Disaster. A big piece of me was still an open wound and I didn’t know when it would heal. But I wanted Cord just the same. I told myself it was harmless, that it didn’t mean a thing.

My hand travelled unwittingly between my legs and just like that I was lost in the fantasy of my steamy desire. I hadn’t felt much like indulging in the days after Devin’s assault. I was as surprised as anything to find that Cord Gentry, the boy I’d detested, was the man I now pictured between my legs. In my reverie, Cord’s strong hands were stroking my body, his smooth muscles rippling under my palms as he bent his head to maul my eager breasts. My mind’s eye recalled the tattoos on his chest which made him seem even wilder. I brought myself closer to climax and imagined how his hard organ, scarcely contained by those flimsy boxers earlier, was sliding inside of me…