#Selfie (Hashtag Series Book 4) (16 page)

Braeden

I paced in the space around me.

What the hell was I doing?

I knew better.

It wasn’t too late.

I could leave right now. No one would ever know I was here.

The images wouldn’t leave my head. They were assaulting me. It was like fucking torture.

I threw my arm up on the wall and leaned my head against it. I stared down at my feet, at the carpet beneath them.

I couldn’t let her do this.

I couldn’t let him touch her.

I raised my other hand and knocked.

Ivy

There was a knock on the door. It was just a regular knock, nothing alarming or special about it. But for some reason, my pulse began to hammer and I jackknifed into a sitting position. Beside me, Prada stirred a little, and I stroked her fur reassuringly.

As I stared at the door, adrenaline pumped through my limbs like I was in some dire fight-or-flight situation.

It was ridiculous.

I was in my dorm room. Alone. Trent went home, and I came upstairs.

Maybe that’s why my body was reacting this way, because I just wanted to be alone. Because I just wanted to lie here and pout.

Gah! I was pathetic.

I flung my legs over the bed, stood, and shoved my hair back out of my face. Gently, I moved Prada off my comforter and tucked her into the soft blanket beneath it. When she was settled, I snatched the fluffy white duvet off the bed and wrapped it around me, tucking everything inside but the top of my head and face.

Hopefully, whoever it was would go away fast. I wasn’t in the mood for any more socializing.

God. I might as well just go check in to a nursing home now.

When my hand closed around the doorknob, a flutter of something that felt suspiciously like butterfly wings erupted beneath my ribcage.

I shoved it away and opened the door enough for me to peek out.

The top of a dark head filled my line of sight, and I blinked.

I’d know that head anywhere. Braeden was half leaning in the doorframe to my room. His arm was flung up on the wood trim, his forearm resting against it, and his head bowed down to lean on his arm. There was something in the way he stood there—sort of hunched over, not looking up—that pierced me.

If my heart was beating hard before… now it was practically galloping. Beneath the comforter, my hands tightened in the cotton, and I tugged the blanket even farther around me. Like a coat of armor, like a shield around my heart.

I’d seen Braeden a million different ways. All of them were stupid and annoying.

Okay.

Not all of them.

Like ninety-nine percent.

I’d never seen him like this.

Whatever he was feeling was palpable. It surrounded him and pushed toward the door and wound through the small opening I used to watch him. He seemed almost forlorn, regretful… and maybe a little weighed down.

He lifted his head. His rich espresso-colored eyes looked at me but then continued past, like he was trying to see inside. Short strands of his dark hair were disheveled and sticking out wildly about his head. The faint scent of beer wafted from his breath, and I wrinkled my nose.

“He here?” he spoke, gesturing toward the room with a hitch of his chin.

“Who?” I asked, my mind literally blank. There was no room for words, for common sense, when just his mere presence crowded me this way.

Bu-bump, bu-bump, bu-bump
. The sound of my heart thudding beneath my ribs was so loud I was shocked he hadn’t asked about it.

With sudden clarity, I realized something. I’d been waiting for him.

Braeden straightened from the door, pulling himself up to his full, impressive height. “I’m gonna take that as a no.”

I stepped back when he flattened his palm on the door and pushed it open. I didn’t move any farther when he stepped in and shut the door. We stood there in a perfectly roomy enough space for two bodies, yet we crowded one another.

Braeden towered over me. And I liked it. I wasn’t necessarily small, but when he looked at me the way he did just then, I felt small. I felt like the smallest star in the darkest sky.

Yet I wasn’t overlooked.

Make a wish on me.

Just one wish.

The thought, however beautiful and wistful, acted as a bucket of ice poured down my back. I yanked away and walked farther into the room, keeping my back to him.

I didn’t trust myself to look at him right then.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I snapped. At least I sounded annoyed. He didn’t have to know I was annoyed with myself and not him. I just needed that wall to come back up. The wall that was always between Braeden and me. The one that made it so easy to hate him.

“I promised Rim I’d make sure you got back okay.”

That was a lie. Rimmel knew I was fine.

My annoyance meter went into the red. “Clearly, I’m fine, so you can leave. Go type up your report.”

“What the fuck are you wearing?”

I spun to glare at him. “It’s my blanket. I’m cold.”

“It’s spring,” he retorted.

“Well, not everyone is full of hot air like you.”

His eyes narrowed, and my tongue slid over my front teeth.

“You sick?” he demanded. I wondered if he noticed the fraction of a step he took in my direction. I sure did.

“No. It’s late and I’m tired. I was in bed before you rudely came ‘a knocking.”

He glanced at my bed, and I followed his gaze. Pillows were all over the place, a couple on the floor and a few scattered around the bed. The sheets were twisted up in the center, and the fuzzy blanket I used beneath the comforter was all piled up, concealing Prada. It looked like I’d been rolling around in there …

Something in his eyes sparked like the catch of a match. Before I could ask him what his problem was, he surged forward and caught the front of the comforter. I let out a startled squeak and gripped the ends together until my fingers hurt.

Braeden yanked, trying to take away my shield. I stumbled forward a bit, and a corner of it came loose, but I managed to keep hold of it.

“Hey!” I protested.

“You naked?” he demanded.

“What!” I shrieked as we fought over ownership of the comforter. “You’re insane! Get out!”

“Why else would you be hiding under all that fabric?”

I panicked. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t know.

What had I been thinking earlier when I put on my pajamas?

“Braeden, stop!” I growled as he pulled some more. The loose corner of the blanket had fallen, and I tripped over it and stumbled forward.

He caught me. Or rather, his chest did. I fell right into him, and he wrapped his arms around me. I wasn’t charmed by his hold.

Fine. Maybe I was.

But only a little.

Prada was disturbed by our argument and jumped up from her cocoon. She gave a tiny little bark and her big ears went up when she saw Braeden.

“What the fuck!” Braeden said, noticing my little dog. “You got a rat infestation in here, Blondie!”

I gasped, so freaking insulted he would say such a thing, and I pulled away.

Too late I felt his fingers dig into the fabric at my back and start to pull.

I yelled, but really, there was no use. He shoved me away from him but kept the blanket. I spun out of my cocoon and fell into the center of the room.

Dead silence filled the room.

I’d rather hear him insult me.

My throat felt thick when I swallowed and tucked the hair behind my ears. I was facing away from him, toward the window, and I didn’t bother to turn around.

I was scared to.

He was staring at me. I felt it all the way in the deepest part of me.

Why couldn’t I be naked?

Being naked would have been far less embarrassing than this.

Braeden

I knew she was hiding something.

The way she clutched that gigantic blanket around her curves and hid herself from sight was just wrong. Ivy wasn’t the kind of girl to hide; she was the kind of girl that wanted to stand out.

I couldn’t stay away tonight. No amount of beer or sex could chase away the image of her and Trent on the dance floor, the way his hands skimmed over her body and hips as they moved to the music.

It made me crazy, and I hated it.

But I still couldn’t stay away and I found myself outside her room. I tried to talk myself out of it. Obviously, I sucked at it.

When she peeked out the door, I’d known. I’d known she wasn’t alone, that Trent was here and his hands were doing a lot more than skimming. It was a damned miracle I hadn’t busted down the door and stormed in like a ninja on ‘roids.

I deserved a metal for my downright angelic behavior.

But…

The room was empty. Trent was nowhere to be seen. And Ivy acted as if she had no idea why I would ask if he was here.

When I saw the state of the bed, spots of red tinged my vision. That was a sex bed. I’d seen enough of them to know.

The memory of Ivy trying to tug the blankets off the bed in my room that night to wrap them around herself was the final straw. She was naked, and he was hiding in this room… somewhere.

So I yanked that shit right off her body.

I wasn’t going to be lied to.

Oh, hells no.

But Ivy wasn’t naked.

And she had been hiding something.

Something I never in a million years expected.

She was wearing my shirt.

Oh, hells yeah.

My cock got so hard so fast it made me lightheaded.

My name was stretched across her back. Right there in Wolves’ colors. It basically stamped her as mine.

Mine.

My number rode low because the shirt was so much larger on her than it ever had been on me, and the bottom of the three skimmed her firm, round ass. She wasn’t wearing any pants, and her legs stretched out from beneath the well-worn blue fabric and flirted with her creamy skin.

“Turn around,” I demanded, but my voice had gone hoarse.

I was aware of a rat with big ears watching us from the bed, but even that couldn’t distract me from her.

She held herself tensely, like she was expecting me to yell. I waited her out, and finally, she slowly pivoted around to face me.

The Wolves logo slashed across her chest and blond hair fell over her shoulders.

It was criminal the way she looked in that shirt. A fucking crime against women everywhere. No one else would ever look the way she did in nothing but a shirt.

My shirt.

I never understood Rome’s insistence that Rimmel wear his hoodie around. I never quite got why he seemed to get such satisfaction seeing his name plastered on her that way.

I got it now.

“I thought I told you to throw that away,” I said, forcing my eyes up away from her body.

“I didn’t listen.”

“That smart mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble,” I warned.

She exhaled. “Look, I washed it. The blood came out. I was gonna give it to you the next time I could bear to be in your presence without the thought of impaling myself on the first sharp object I saw.”

My smile was swift. “Then what are you doing wearing it?”

She blanched but recovered quickly. “It was late and dark when I got home. I reached in my dresser and pulled out the first thing my hand closed around. I didn’t realize it was this shirt, your shirt, until—”

“But you left it on,” I cut her off.

Oh, I was enjoying this. Her cheeks were pink with embarrassment. She kept tugging at the hem, as if she could pull it down so far it would hide her from view.

“It’s comfortable, okay?” she whined.

I laughed. She totally liked wearing my shirt.

And Trent wasn’t in this room.

She made a low, huffing sound and crossed her arms over her chest. “What are you doing here?”

And just like that, the tides turned. I was in the spotlight now. Except I wasn’t going to fidget like a damn girl.

“I came to see Rim.”

Ivy gave me a look like she just ate a dozen sour eggs. “You know she’s with Romeo.”

I shrugged. “I wasn’t sure if he was bringing her back here or not.”

“You asked if
he
was here.”

“I said
she
.” I lied and tilted my head. “How much you have to drink tonight?”

“Not nearly enough to listen to your bullshit.”

Truth was now that I was standing in the center of her room and the image of her wearing that shirt and nothing else was singed into my soul, I’d rather eat a can of buffalo fart than admit why I was really here.

I was jealous.

I was scared as shit.

When I didn’t say anything, Ivy uncrossed her arms and dropped them at her sides. “Well, you can see Rimmel is clearly not here. So you can leave.” She started forward, presumably toward the door.

I was blocking her path and didn’t bother to move. Her arm brushed against me when she shouldered by. I should have let her go. I should have watched her open the door and motion for me to take my sorry ass out into the hall.

I didn’t.

My hand shot out and caught her forearm. Her steps halted almost instantly; she went rigid and didn’t look at me. Ivy kept her face turned away, staring straight ahead, waiting for me to release her.

Catch and release.

The phrase whispered through my mind, and instinctively, I tightened my fingers around her arm. Her skin was warm and soft. She felt like satin in my palm. I didn’t want to let her go. Technically, I hadn’t even caught her.

But I was a twisted kind of guy. Deep down, I knew if I let her go, if I dropped my hold, it would be a test.

Would Ivy flee or would she remain rooted to the spot, so closely at my side?

The answer would be telling. The action would speak much louder than anything she could say.

I let go.

I stayed exactly as I was. I didn’t move except to drop my hand.

And then I waited to see what she would do. I waited for her to put distance between us.

She didn’t.

We stood there in the center of her dim room, neither of us moving, neither of us saying a word. Beneath my shirt, her chest rose and fell with every breath she took, and the scent of her hair lingered in the small space between us.

I gave her the option to move away. Yet just like at the beach when we were alone, we were in the dark, and there was nothing here to help us hide the truth.

“Do you ever think about that night?” I whispered, watching her profile.

Her teeth sank into the lower portion of her lip.

Do you ever miss me?
I didn’t say that out loud. I didn’t even want to have the thought, let alone put it out there.

Her chin dipped a little and her eyes gazed downward. Strands of wavy blond hair fell forward and blocked her profile from sight. “I think about the sounds of the ocean and the way the stars there lit up the sky like I’d never seen before.”

Her voice was so quiet, but it held me captive, even though it wasn’t what I wanted to hear. It was like she was a siren just then, singing something so beautiful it didn’t matter what song it was.

Ivy swallowed thickly and fell silent. Her hand slid up and palmed her hip, taking a fistful of my shirt.

Without thinking, I caught the length of her hair and brushed it back over her shoulder so I could see her face. She turned toward me, and the blue of her eyes searched my face.

“Most of all, I think about the way you looked that night with the stars overhead and the sound of the ocean drowning out all the reasons I hate you so much.”

Fuck.

Her words were homicide. Homicide to every thought in my head just then.

“Why are you really here, Braeden?” Her tone was hushed.

“Why are you really wearing my shirt?” I echoed.

She started to look away. I slid my hand around the base of her neck and tugged her back. Reluctantly, her eyes met mine.

Even the expanse of a few inches between us was just too much. I guided her forward, keeping my palm firmly at the base of her neck, and lowered my face to capture her mouth.

The first touch was like aloe to a burn. It was like a drink of water to a really dry tongue. The relief that flowed through me was so heavy I drew back slightly.

Her lashes fluttered open and our eyes met.

Goddamn, I’d never in my entire life been wound so tight.

I kissed her again, this time fusing our mouths together and not pulling back. I kissed her deeply but softly, nibbling at her lips between deep strokes of my tongue. Her body went boneless. She literally turned to putty in my arms. I wrapped myself around her and held us both in place. My hands didn’t roam her body. I didn’t try to cop a feel. Even though my cock was raging inside my jeans, I didn’t think about burying it deep inside her.

All I thought about was the way she kissed. The way I felt exploring her. She opened up to me in ways I didn’t realize existed. She opened up a part of me I didn’t realize I had.

The kiss went on and on. Our lips tangled together, our tongues danced, and a heavy fog settled over us both. I was in that place one only existed when they were between sleep and awake. That kind of fuzzy, heavy awareness that pulled you down and kept most of reality at bay.

I don’t know how long we stood like that, but when she pulled back, it hadn’t been long enough. Her lips were slightly swollen, and her eyes were dazed.

I kept my palm cupped around her neck and flexed my fingers.

“You shouldn’t kiss me like that,” she whispered.

“Like what?” My voice sounded as if I’d just smoked three packs of cigarettes.

“Like this is more than just having fun.”

I pulled back. The haze around us was still dense, but her words cut through it just enough for some reality to seep inside. She basically just threw my own code in my face.

I didn’t date women. I didn’t get the feels. All I ever did was have fun.

Everyone knew it. I never made it a secret.

No girl ever had a problem with it.

And no one ever used it against me.

“Missy is my best friend.” As she spoke, she backed away, like I was a poisonous snake.

“Missy and I aren’t together.” We never were. And after what just happened downstairs, we never would be.

“But she wants to be.”

And there went the rest of the haze over the room. The statement was like a category-five hurricane ripping up every last ounce of intensity from that kiss.

“I don’t want Missy,” I ground out.

“What do you want?”

If that wasn’t a loaded question, then nothing was. Her voice was almost desperate, imploring me to just tell her, to put us both out of our misery.

“I’m not into Missy,” I ground out again. Saying what I didn’t want was a hell of a lot easier than admitting what I did.

“Yeah?” Ivy tapped her foot on the floor like she was scolding a five-year-old. It was damned cute.

Wait. What? Damned cute? Scratch that. She was being annoying as hell.

She kept on yapping. “Well, you aren’t into me either. You just want something you can’t have.”

“News flash,” I retorted. “I already had you.”

“You’re an asshole!” she yelled at me.

“You ain’t a prize either,” I muttered.

“Look, I’m not going to be your next ‘just for fun’ fling. What happened at the beach was a mistake. You might not be into Missy, but she is into you. I won’t hurt her like that.” She stomped to the door but didn’t pull it open. Instead, she stood there staring at the wall.

“Is there a reason you didn’t want Trent to be here tonight?” she whispered after a minute of silence. It was like even after her speech, her declaration we would never happen, she still couldn’t let it go.