Trick (13 page)

I shake my head. “Don’t thank me. This is a business transaction, Ryder. Not a favor. Got it?”

“You’re turning into a real hardass,” Ryder says, then grins before he delivers the words he knows will drive me crazy. “Dad would be proud.”

I fist up, ready to punch the locker, but pull back. I’m sure as hell not breaking Rick’s shit because Ryker pissed me off. I need a shower and to find Harlow before I go fucking nuts.

CHAPTER 9

HARLOW

When my phone rings, I almost fall off the bed jumping for it, because today is officially day three, and I can answer Gunner’s calls!

It was torture waiting, and I explained to Daisy that I was afraid that I was screwing everything up. She pointed out that if Gunner really cared, he’d wait.

And I had to know if what we have is real or not. So I waited, even though it was hard as hell.

“Hello!” I say into the phone, not even glancing at the number on the screen.

“Hey girl! You been lying around, getting your tan on?”

“Jilly. Hey, hon. How’ve you been?” I try to keep my voice from sounding too disappointed, but I wasn’t expecting my friend from dance class to call on our break.

And, of course, I was so sure it was Gunner.

“Alright. Listen, my sister got us a job if you’re interested.”

“A job?” Jilly’s sister does wedding planning or something. I’d never catered or anything, and I honestly didn’t want to waste any time I could be spending with Gunner serving dry chicken to wedding guests.

“Yes! It’s crazy good money. And I know I’ve been itching to dance. The clubs around here have been pathetic, am I right? I feel like I spend most of my time getting mauled”

“Dancing?” I perk up at the thought, but I’m confused. “At a wedding?”

“No!” Jilly laughs. “My sister does all kinds of party planning. This is a big private party. They want to keep it on the lowdown, but if you’re in, come over and we’ll get some of the other girls and get some basic choreography down and throw something together for costuming. Do you still have the little dress you wore for Mrs. Donovan’s dance showcase last semester? Can you bring it over with you?”

My fingers tighten around the phone. I want to spend as much time as I can with Gunner, but if I have to give time up, dance is the only thing I’m willing to do it for.

“I do have the dress. I can be at your place in half an hour.”

“Great! I gotta call the rest of the girls. See you soon, hon!”

Jilly clicks off and I race around my room, stuffing things in my bag, my heart racing. I’ve never danced for money. I guess I should have asked how much money we’re getting. And what kind of party it is. I guess it doesn’t really matter, though. What’s important is that it’s a step in the right direction.

Of course, I have to be sure that when I tell Daddy about the job I mention that opportunities like this will only come up now and then in Piedmont. In New York City, these kinds of jobs will fill my schedule up and keep me employed.

I race to my Jeep, and have a hard time not speeding to Jilly’s house.

I can’t wait to dance again!

***

“Break!” Jilly yells.

The six of us all collapse, rubbing our legs and sides, groaning, and laughing. “Jilly, you can always join the army if your career in dance doesn’t take off. You’re a freaking drill sergeant,” Jerika moans.

Jilly puts her hands on her hips and glares. “If you’d done something other than watch reality
TV and sext with your boyfriend this break, you’d be in better shape, Jerika. I don’t see Harlow complaining.”

Jerika pokes me with her shoe. “Um, that’s because Little Miss Celibate doesn’t have anything to distract her from her fierce dance regimen.”

My friends all laugh, because it’s an old joke. I just never dated much, and was always at the studio, working.

Of course, none of them know that I’ve been dancing my ass off in between the hottest sex sessions I’ve ever had, and I’d rather they still thought I of me as “Promise Ring Harlow.”

Unfortunately, I have zero poker face.

Alex, the one of us who’s has the most,
ahem
, varied experiences drops her jaw. “Girls! My inner sex goddess is so tingling. Harlow Mills is no longer a virgin.”

Everyone stares at me, and I know for a fact I’m probably scarlet.

I take a deep breath, look up, and announce, “Well, duh. I lost my virginity three years ago.”

The girls scream and crowd me, even Jilly, who said we’d only get ten minutes of downtime before we started back up. Why does she pick now to loosen up her military focus?

“Have you had a secret boyfriend?” Jerika asks.

“She’s obviously hiding something. Spill,” Madison insists. Becca and Alex nod behind her.

“There’s nothing to spill. And we have moves to learn. You were a half count off for the first part of the dance, Madison,” I point out, not caring that she shoots me stabby eyes.

I look to Jilly to back me up, but she just smiles. “Girl, you’ve been white as the fresh driven snow for as long as I’ve known you. Now you drop this bombshell and expect us to just get back to routine? Hell no! Spill. And that’s an order.”

“I did
not
drop any bombshell,” I protest, but the girls ignore my arguments and chant for me to tell. “You guys are so middle school. You know that, right?” I sigh when the chanting only picks up. “Fine! Just shut up, okay?” Everyone goes quiet and giggles, waiting. “Well, three years ago I fell in love with this guy over the summer. And it was crazy. Fantastic. At the end of the summer, he told me that he wasn’t good enough, that he wanted me to go my own way. It broke my heart.”

“Oh, honey,” Jilly says, putting a hand on my arm and biting her lip. I know she feels bad now for teasing me.

“It was terrible. I just blocked any thoughts of love out of my mind, which is part of the reason why I threw myself into dancing like crazy.”

Jerika grimaces. “Wow. I feel like a huge asshole for making fun of you. I had no idea, Har.”

I smile. “It’s okay. Because this summer, Daisy hunted him down. And he and...Um, well...we reconnected?” I push away the drama of the last three days, because I know, I just
know
, Gunner and I will get past it. Or maybe I just want to believe my own fairytale.

The entire group crows and shouts.

“She means, ‘We boned!’” Becca shouts.

“She means, ‘He gave me his hot beef injection!’” Alex yells, jumping up and pumping her hips.

“Who is this mystery stud?” Madison demands.

“Um, his name is Gunner Hunt,” I say.

Alex’s eyes go wide.

“Do you know something about him?” My heart hammers loud in my ears. Maybe Alex knows Rochelle? Maybe she’s going to tell me something I really don’t want to hear?

“No. Not a Gunner Hunt. I had an amazing weekend with a Greyson Hunt, but there are a million Hunts in Piedmont. Who knows if they’re even related. But if Gunner is as unfuckingbelievable in bed as Greyson is...” Alex closes her eyes and runs her hands over her body. “Holy shit, girl, I’m dying of jealousy right now!”

Jilly shakes her head. “Hunt is like the Smith of Piedmont. Okay, girls! Now that we know Harlow is having a very
active
social life with the mysterious Gunner Hunt, you should all be extra ashamed, because she’s still blowing every one of you out of the water. Don’t even look at the phone pile, Jerika! You know who gets phone privileges? Amazing dancers. Right now I see a whole lotta mediocre. Again from the top. Five, six, seven, eight...”

I glance over at the phone pile when Jilly’s back is turned. Has he called? What’s he going to say about Rochelle? Did she tell him we met? Damn Daisy and her three-day rule!

I dance my heart out and encourage my girls to do the same, in a small part because I love what I’m doing, and in a huge part because I need to get to that damn phone.

CHAPTER 10

GUNNER

The first time anyone ever handed me a beer was my at my eighth grade graduation. My Uncle Billy said, “Kid got farther than I ever managed. I’ll drink to that, and I think he should to!”

I had no mama to knock him upside the head, so I drank. And didn’t stop until the summer I met Harlow. I lost the desire to be drunk on alcohol once I’d been drunk off the taste of her, the feel of her body under mine.

When I sent her on her way, I couldn’t seem to drink enough, which is part of the reason I opened my bar. I slowed back down because I had too much responsibility to be wasted every day. But now that it’s been three fucking days since I’ve been able to hear her voice or see her face, I’m nursing a bottle of Jack Daniel’s Black Label, and even my favorite drink isn’t doing a damn thing.

Rochelle’s irritating voice doesn’t do anything to help.

“Hey, handsome. You look like death warmed over.”

I hold my arms out. “Didn’t I give you my credit card yesterday? Go buy yourself something and get out of my damn face, Rochelle.”

She sits down on the barstool next to me and smiles at Jared. “Vodka sour.” She watches him walk back to make her drink, looking him up and down and licking her lips appreciatively. She turns to look at me, a challenge in her icy eyes.

“What’s that look for?” I growl.

“You jealous that I’m checking Jared out?” she purrs.

I see Jared’s shoulders go stiff. He’s been with his girl, Rosie, since they were in junior high. He says that he can appreciate a good-looking female, but he’d never mess around.

“I don’t give a shit who you look at, Rochelle. But keep your hands off anyone I work with. I don’t need you turning everything here to shit.”

Jared drops the glass on the bar and rushes to the boxes waiting to be broken down in the storage room. Lucky bastard. I’m stuck staring at Rochelle. She sips her drink and stuffs a fifty in the tip jar, which makes me laugh. It’s probably my fucking fifty.

“You were supposed to meet me at the jewelry store. I waited for half an hour. Bought a nice necklace and two pairs of earrings I might never wear.”

“Why would you do that?” I ask, knowing I shouldn’t bother. She wants me to ask because she loves the drama.

“I did it because
fuck you
, Gunner,” she hisses, leaning close to me. “You think I don’t know about your little blonde slut?”

I sit up and lean in. “You call her that one more time, and I’m kicking your ass out of this bar and my life for good. You hear me?”

“You don’t scare me, Gunner,” Rochelle says, but she backs up. “And I can’t even believe you’re messing around with that little princess. You’re just wasting your time on a spoiled little daddy’s girl who’s going to drop you the minute she meets her prince charming. I wouldn’t care if it was just some girl you were getting your rocks off with, but there’s this.” She reaches out and grabs my wrist, twisting it around so my tattoo is visible.

“What the hell is it to you, Rochelle?” I ask.

“Like I said, fine if you want to sow your wild oats or whatever. Trust me, I get that people like you and me just aren’t hardwired for monogamy. But if this little bitch gets in the way of my plans for our future—”

“Shut your damn mouth!” I roar, banging my fist on the bar so hard her drink sloshes over the rim.

Her jaw drops open. “Oh my God. I can’t believe it.”

“Believe what?”

“You still think this whole fairytale is going to work out? You still think your true love is going to turn her back on her daddy’s money and leave her cushy country club life to ride off into the sunset with you?” I force my face to stay blank, but Rochelle’s nasty laugh tells me I haven’t done a good job of hiding what’s in my head.

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” I grit out.

She stops laughing. “Oh, Gunner. This is actually too pathetic to laugh about. Let me spell it out for you. I know it’s fun as hell to fuck the prom queen, and I bet she’s really loving slumming it. But look around.” She holds her hands out. “This piece of shit bar is your world. You think she’s going to say goodbye to daddy’s palace and move into your farmhouse? Or that she’s going to give up being the wife of some senator or stock broker so she can hang out in your shitty bar? Imagine how she’ll feel when she wants to dress up and go to church on Christmas Eve and finds out your family’s big tradition is to get lit and pass out around a bonfire made of furniture that got broke while you were brawling?”

“I’m not anything like my family,” I insist, but I don’t know why I bother. Rochelle knows me better than I know myself.

She puts a cool hand on my cheek. “You can pretend for now. But you’re tied to them for life. And their world, your world...
our world
—doesn’t include Harlow Mills. Stringing this thing along is just depressing. Stop kidding yourself, Gunner. And admit it: you and I have chemistry, we get each other, and we come from the same place. We just make sense. So stop fighting it.”

Rochelle leans over and kisses me.

“I can’t—” I begin, but she puts her fingers to my lips.