Chapter Two
Parker and I didn’t leave the party until midnight. And just as anticipated, he was curious as to why River Ellis sought me. I quickly told him that I previously met his acquaintance, but Parker wasn’t easily convinced. And the more he pressured me about the subject, the more reluctant I was in divulging. He felt threatened, maybe jealous even, and I understood his feelings. He had every right to it. Nevertheless, the right time to address it wasn’t now. Firstly, I had to close this chapter before making things more serious with Parker.
He and I had barely begun dating a month ago. I admit I was still getting accustomed to dating again. Pressuring me wouldn’t do him any favors. Call it defensive mechanism, but I wasn’t going to immediately open up when he and I were still in the process of getting to know one another. My barriers were tightly secured, and my guard was almost impenetrable. If he wanted to be with me, Parker needed to understand that it would take time for me to come around. Hopefully, he was patient enough to wait for me.
He wasn’t the first man I had dated after River, but apart from the rest of the lot, Parker actually was the closest man whom I felt I could have a real relationship with. So, I obviously wouldn’t want to lose him,butI wasn’t ready to reveal myself and the gargantuan baggage that followed me around, either.
It took every ounce of persuasion to have Parker not join me inside my apartment when he dropped me off. His persistence to take it to the next level had been more apparent lately. Rushing into physical intimacy wasn’t something I planned. However, I believe that once tonight was through, I would be more pliable to the idea.
Ridding my life of River wouldn’t be a hardship. We needed closure; that was all. His dating life was colorful like a kaleidoscope. He had all the ripe pickings to whomever he fancied, and I doubted he had any inclination in making that bright, sparkly life dulled by rekindling things with me. Therefore, I had nothing to worry about on that front … Or so I reassured myself with.
Pressed for time, I hadn’t bothered changing when I requested for a ride to pick me up. Enclosed in my scarcely decorated one-bedroom apartment in Santa Monica, I stood in the middle of the living room, terrified out of my wits. My heart ached as I tried to squash the memories that endangered to overrule my senses.
“No,” I angrily hissed out. “No tears, damn you.”
Letting out a sigh, I took a moment to gain my composure, reassuring myself with the truth—that this man had his multiple-layered array of cakes and he ate it with gusto, without a thought of repercussions or what his actions would eventually do to me. The only thing I could do was think positive thoughts. Once tonight was over, River would have no right to hound my conscience any longer.
“I, alone, can set the path to my future and my own happiness. River can’t take that away from me, too.”
On a mission to calm my nerves, I went into the kitchen and made myself a whiskey sour; reinforcements to amp my courage were always welcomed. The strong, sweet and sour drink would encourage my disheartened circumstance.
The Uber driver dropped me off at the location River had texted me. After murmuring my thanks to the kind driver, I paused, catching my breath, as I stood outside the pavement, exhilarated and unsure of what to do next.
His home was in a secluded and quiet neighborhood, a complete distinction from life in the city where everything and anything was correlated to tinsel town. It made me wonder why he chose to live away from it all. I supposed the Spanish villa with its abundant rows of vibrant hydrangeas would entice anyone to live here. It stung to realize that he chose my favorite flowers to adorn his beautiful home.
“Bastard,” I muttered under my breath while my eyes heated at the very sight of them. If there was any doubt, rest assured, I loathed every ounce of the man.
For so long, I had rehearsed this scenario in my mind, but it never quite played out this way—with me seeking him out on his own turf. My hands became clammy as my thoughts procured each god-awful scenario in my head. Tough he might be, but he had never laid a finger on me, not to hurt me.
I recalled those dark, penetrating eyes flaying my soul, accusing. He would demand answers, and give them, I shall … even if rehashing the past threatened to undo the very fine stitching I had sewn in my once fragile, shattered heart.
Treading onto the massively flattened stone pathway leading toward the entrance to his home, I then hastily pressed the doorbell before I convinced myself to walk away and wish him hell-bound.
“Cara,” he breathlessly greeted upon opening the door.
Dressed in black drawstring linen pants and the same colored muscle shirt, he was perfectly equipped for a fun night of torture. His hair was wet, freshly out of shower, smelling clean, overpowering my senses with his scented skin, seizing my inhibitions for a moment. It was the very same cologne I had gifted him when he had turned sixteen. He hadn’t worn anything else since, apparently. Or maybe he was using every weapon at his disposal, I spitefully considered. After all, lust was a powerful tool to make one at an advantage. And the asshat knew what to use against me. Well, he could think again. His sexual prowess be damned.
It was a brilliant idea that I didn’t change into something drab and remained in the same garment I had donned earlier. The tiny black dress perfectly matched his shameless intent. I knew him well enough to know that he intended to seduce me; play me for a lovesick fool. No more.
He hadn’t changed; still beyond predictable. While I, on the other hand,thisnew Cara, would give him a run for his money. If I played my cards right, I could very well walk out of here unscathed.
“Come on in.” He gestured, stepping aside to let me in, probing eyes trained on me.
Not meeting his inquisitive gaze, I held my breath, bracing myself as I crossed the threshold.
Upon closing the door behind me, his blatant gawking became too much to bear.
“Stop staring at me like that!” I fumed, striking him with a venomous glare. I could very well slap him, but I didn’t want him to realize that he was breaking through to me. He was already unbearable, and we had just begun. What the hell!
“I haven’t seen you in years; what do you expect me to do, Cara? Kiss you, perhaps?” River asked as he tauntingly arched his brow at me. Before I could quip a retort, he broke into a smile. “It’s good to know that you’re still all fire, petal. I’ve always admired that about you.”
Petal. The cheek!
“Don’t you dare call me that! I’m not your petal. I’m not your anything. Not for a long time. And never again.”
Insulted, River took a few steps and stood at full-height, forbidding, domineering with his trained eyes on me like a hawk to its prey. “You’re going to make this hard, aren’t you? You know just how I like it, Cara.” He was measuring how far he could goad me, but I wasn’t going to cave to his wretched tactics.
His words lingered, making me shudder at the thought of him taking me, right here, up against the wall, as he gripped my hips to meet his eager thrusts. It was how he took me the last time I saw him, silencing my tears with his kisses and believing that sex would cure the hollowness in my heart. It was a monumental moment because it was then that I had realized that sex wasn’t enough anymore. It was, when I had quietly said my good-bye, unbeknownst to him.