Seductive Chaos (Bad Rep #3) (17 page)

I had come here wanting one thing and now I was pussing out.

Breanne looked as though I had offered her a round trip ticket to Paris. Her dull, brown eyes lit up. “I’d love to come! Oh my god! Maybe we could hang out afterwards,” she suggested and I shrugged.

“Sure,” I found myself saying. I really needed to shut the hell up.

“You want something else to drink. Or are your cool with the vodka?” she asked, her excited smile making me feel like a worthless dick. I should never have told this random girl to come to a show.

Something was seriously wrong with my head. My game wasn’t just off, it was non-existent.

Breanne’s rhythmic fingers became more purposeful as she wove her hand into my hair. It bugged the shit out of me. I hated when girls messed with my hair. Except when Viv pulled it, but that was a different story.

I shook my head, trying to dissuade her but Breanne the Bartender was one persistent lady.

This would be so easy. I knew I could have this chick on her back in less than five minutes. Part of me really wanted to. I missed the easy effortlessness of banging girls I never had to talk to again.

Breanne came around from behind the bar and perched up on the stool beside me, turning her body so that her knees fell between mine. We were close enough I could smell stale beer and bar on her clothes.

Her makeup was thick. I could see a line around the outside of her face. Her hair color was obviously as fake as her nose. As a rule I didn’t bother paying attention to this stuff.

What was wrong with me?

She wanted to fuck. That’s what I came in here to do. Right?

But when I looked at Breanne, I didn’t see
her.
My mind saw strawberry-blonde hair, angry green eyes, flushed skin, and perfectly pursed lips.

I smelled sex and vanilla and Vivian’s perfumey shampoo stuff that got stuck in my nose but I liked it anyway.

What was I doing down here instead of upstairs where I wouldn’t be swilling crappy rail liquor and contemplating the stupidity of sticking it in a girl who I had a feeling would go stalker when we were finished?

“So what brings you down here this time of night?” she asked, tapping her knees against my inner thigh.

“Just needed a drink,” I said nonchalantly.

“Were you alone?” she asked and I caught an edge to her voice.

Simmer down girl, you don’t even know me.

I downed another shot and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

“Nope,” I told her, thinking that maybe it was about time I went back up to my room. I thought of Vivian waiting for me to come back and the appeal of being anywhere near this girl in front of me, or any other girl for that matter, was lost.

Breanne took the shot glass from my limp fingers and put it on the bar. She hopped down and stood between my legs, her hands running up my thighs as she leaned in.

I tried to back up but I almost fell off the stool.

“Whoa, sweetheart, don’t you think we should talk some first,” I laughed nervously.

If I weren’t feeling so off balance this entire situation would be hella funny.

Breanne grabbed my hand and pressed it against her tit as she started to palm me through my jeans.

“I don’t think you came in here wanting to talk, Cole,” she said with a grin. I didn’t like the sound of my name on her lips. It sounded all wrong.

She rubbed my crotch furiously, trying to get a reaction. My hand sat, unmoving on her boob, the alcohol buzzing in my system making me a little dizzy.

Breanne made a noise of frustration when she realized I wasn’t responding the way she wanted me to. She looked out toward the very visible hotel lobby. If anyone chanced a look in here, they’d see exactly what was going on.

Ordinarily I enjoyed some good ole public indecency as much as the next self-centered bastard, but this whole exchange was bugging the shit out of me. Between my less than clear head and Breanne’s over eager hands, I was ready to call it a night and head back up to share my bed with the only woman on my mind.

While I was going through a dozen different ways to get out of this situation, Breanne gave me a coy smile and pulled off her shirt, letting it fall to the floor. Before I could register what was going on, she quickly unsnapped her bra and let it join her shirt.

What the hell?

My eyes instantly went to her chest. I’m only human after all. And it was a very nice chest.

But it left me cold.

“Come on,” she urged, wiggling her boobs so they jiggled.

If I hadn’t been ready to bail before now, this awkward titty show was the final nail in this unsuccessful bag and bang.

I leaned down and picked up her black bra and shirt and handed them to her. She frowned as I pressed them into her naked chest. I pulled out my wallet and tossed some cash on the counter.

“Thanks for the drinks. I appreciate it. Keep the change. I’d better get going,” I said, hopping down from the stool.

Breanne didn’t put her shirt back on. She stood there, her eyes wide and completely bewildered.

“Are you serious? You’re leaving?” she asked, her voice rising in a shriek.

I’ve had my fill of over dramatic females for one night. And only one of them would I even contemplate putting up with. And it definitely wasn’t this one.

“Yep, I’m leaving. Thanks,” I said shortly, walking away from her.

“You’re an asshole!” Breanne yelled as I unlocked the door and let myself out.

“Yeah, I know,” I said over my shoulder before the glass shut behind me.

T
he ride up to my room in the elevator was the longest of my life. I was feeling restless with pent up energy. When the doors finally opened, I practically ran down the hallway.

I didn’t know what I’d say to Vivian. But I had a good idea what I would do.

I would kiss her and hold her and touch her. I wasn’t good with apologies. I could count on one hand the number of times I had uttered the words,
I’m sorry.

My father had drilled in my head early on that to apologize was to show weakness. And even though I knew he had been full of shit, it was ingrained in me to avoid those words at all costs.

Even when I knew I was wrong. Even when I knew to say it would go a long way in smoothing over a situation that had gotten ridiculously out of hand.

But I could show her in other ways.

Ways I knew she’d like.

And I’d definitely enjoy.

I stumbled, getting the key card out of my pocket and when I finally got the door open, I swung it open with enough force to send it bouncing back in my face.

“Vivian!” I called out, kicking my shoes off and heading to the bed, where I expected to find her.

Except she wasn’t there.

I looked around but the room appeared empty.

I turned on the light in the bathroom and went inside. Nothing.

Vivian was gone.

“Damn it!” I yelled, sweeping my arm across the vanity, knocking my toothpaste and deodorant onto the floor.

I pulled my cellphone out of my pocket and dialed Vivian’s number. I honestly expected her to still be here when I came back. It hadn’t entered my head that she’d leave.

We fought all the time. She or I had stormed out more than once. But she had never left before.

And when she didn’t answer her phone, I could only stand there in shock.

I think I had underestimated just how angry she was. I hadn’t been wrong when my instincts told me this fight; this argument, was different.

I’d been on this ride with Viv for years. I thought I knew her. I thought I could predict how she would react.

I was an idiot.

I re-dialed her number again.

And again.

And again.

And it went to voicemail each and every time.

I gripped my hair with my hands and wondered what I should do.

Should I give up and go to bed? It was late. We had to be on the bus early in the morning to head to Wilmington.

I stared down at my phone, willing it to ring.

I had seriously fucked up this time.

I shoved my phone back in my pocket and left my hotel room again, not bothering to put my shoes back on. This time I headed back down the hallway and knocked on the door by the elevator.

No one answered so I pounded on the door with my fist. “Open up you cunt rag!” I bellowed, beating my palms against the wood.

“What the hell, man?” Mitch muttered after answering the door. He looked like he had just woken up. I looked over his shoulder and saw that someone was in his bed. I couldn’t tell who. And I didn’t really give a shit. I was just glad he hadn’t answered the door naked. I’d had enough trauma for one night.

“Which room is Gracie in?” I asked. Mitch’s expression was strange and he looked over his shoulder nervously. I didn’t have time to think about what weird shit he had going on.

“Uh, room 321. Two floors down,” he said, his voice pitched low.

“Thanks,” I said in a rush.

“Wait, Cole!” Mitch called out as I turned to go. He came out in the hallway, closing the door behind him.

“Why are you going to Gracie’s room?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest.

“What’s it to you?” I narrowed my eyes, not wanting to share my personal bullshit with him right now. I wasn’t up for a touchy feely, let’s talk it out conversation.

“I know you’re looking for Vivian.”

I frowned. “What the fuck do you know, Mitch?” I asked, losing my patience.

“Uh, she called Gracie, needing a place to crash. She was pretty upset,” Mitch said and cocked my eyebrow.

“So is Gracie the one playing sleepover?” I asked, not surprised in the least but not caring at all.

Mitch flushed and shrugged. “I’m just saying, don’t go in there acting like a big dick. Vivian may be loud and bitchy but Gracie says she’s really hurt right now. So whatever you did must have been a doozy.”

I sneered at my friend who seemed to be trying his hand at some Dear Abby advice.

“I think the estrogen out here needs to simmer down a bit,” I replied.

Mitch rolled his eyes. “That’s cool, be the asshole. It’s what she’ll expect you to do anyway,” he said and turned around, going back into his room where apparently he had finally fucked Gracie Cook. And he left me feeling a bit like a douchebag.

I took the elevator down to the third floor and made my way to room 321. I knocked on the door and waited. And waited.

Finally Vivian answered and stood there in her pajamas, her face splotchy and I knew she had been crying. All of my patented remarks died in my mouth.

I had nothing to say. Not seeing her like this.

Had I caused her to be this upset?

“Viv,” I began but she held up her hand, stopping me.

“We have nothing more to say to each other. I told you I was done. I meant it.” She sounded tired but I knew she hadn’t been sleeping.

“Can I come in?” I asked, sliding my bare foot into the doorway, edging my body closer.

She shook her head. “No, you can’t.”

“Why not? What the fuck is going on?” I asked, feeling familiar frustration settling in.

And to think I had rushed back up here for
this!
Why had I deluded myself into thinking I wanted this drama in my life?

“Because I’m tired. I need to go to sleep. And I’m tired of talking in circles with you. I’m tired of arguing. So, can I just see you in the morning?”

She started to close the door and I braced it open with my hand.

“Not until you explain how we went from having a perfectly good night to this bullshit. Look, I get that you overreact. I get that you fly off the handle. Hell, I like that about you. It’s hot. But trying to be a mind reader ain’t my thing. I don’t do head games.”

Vivian snorted. “You don’t? Really? Then what have we been doing for the past two years, Cole, if it hasn’t been one giant head game?”

I frowned. “We fight. We get pissed off at each other. And then we make up. It’s what we do, baby,” I said softly, reaching out to cup her face. I hated seeing her sad. I preferred every other emotion to that one.

It made me feel entirely too much.

Vivian closed her eyes but didn’t pull away. I considered that progress. “Aren’t you sick of it?” she whispered.

My thumb caressed the apple of her cheek. “I could never get tired of you,” I told her honestly. Because it was the truth. No matter how many times I had her, I always wanted more.

She was the only woman I had ever met who could handle me. Who put up with me. Who didn’t expect more than I could give her. And to me, that made her pretty damn special.

So I didn’t understand what the problem was all of a sudden.

“Cole, I know you’re with other women. You don’t bother to hide it. But I can’t deal with that anymore. I can’t play the scorned woman in some elaborate fuck fantasy you have. This is destructive. It’s messed up. And it’s over.”

My heart thudded painfully. I calmly continued to rub her cheek.

“You don’t mean that, Viv. I know you,” I said, bowing my head down so I could kiss her lips. But she pulled back before I could.

“No, Cole, you don’t. You don’t know me at all. You’ve never bothered to know me,” she said fiercely.

I dropped my hand and took a step back.

“I ask you about your job. You tell me about stuff,” I supplied feebly.

Vivian crossed her arms over her chest and glared at me. “Then what’s my middle name?”

“Um. . .uh,” I stuttered. Crap!

“Okay, how many siblings do I have?”

“Wait! I know this,” I started but she kept going.

“How did I get this scar?” she asked, pulling her shirt down to reveal a thin, long sliver of puckered skin along her breast bone that I had licked a thousand times before. I had never thought to ask about it. It had never entered my mind.

I stayed quiet. What could I say? I had never cared to know those details about her life. That wasn’t what we were to each other. I wasn’t the guy to know about her family vacations or to go home with her at Thanksgiving. I had never pretended to be boyfriend material. So why was I being punished for it now?

I started to get mad. Really, really mad.

“I cut it on barbed wire when I was climbing a fence into a cow field when I was eleven. I had to have twelve stitches and a tetanus shot,” Vivian continued.