If Only (The Willowbrook Series Book 1) (6 page)

The workshop was sweltering, the heat cranked up to God-knew what temperature. Perspiration trickled down the side of his face, reminding her of another time when he’d sweated in a warm room. Her irritation disappeared, replaced by lust.

“Look at me like that some more and I won’t be able to stop myself from taking you right here and now.”

Her panties dampened while her nipples hardened. For the life of her, she couldn’t utter a feisty comeback. All she could do was lick her dry lips. He groaned, his gaze darting to her mouth.

“Please—” She bit her lower lip.

He stalked forward until they were toe to toe.

“Please, what?” His voice came out husky, sexy, just like the way it had sounded a year ago the night he had said her name right before he gently pushed inside her and took her virginity.

“Oh, God, Rhys.”

She wanted to throw herself into his arms, to beg him to make love to her until the pressure deep inside disappeared. Instead, she ran a shaky hand over her eyes.

“Turn off the heat. You’re gonna burn the place down.”

He laughed, and the sound washed over her in waves. “Is that all you want?”

He dipped his head and nuzzled her neck. Asa closed her eyes. Soft lips. The flick of his tongue. She shivered.

“Put your arms around me.”

She wound her arms around his neck. Betrayed by her body, her mind weakened until thoughts of forgiveness, forgetting, and moving on disappeared in her haze of longing. Darn her for falling, and shame on him for not doing this sooner. Arching, she groaned as he dropped kisses on her cheek, jaw line, and neck.

His mouth felt too good, his touch even better as he cupped her ass to bring her closer. When he smoothed his palms over her backside, causing her panties to dampen more, she yanked him down for a deep kiss.

“Asa.”

A low growl rumbled in his throat. Just like that night, he wanted her . . . wanted her to say yes to him. She could tell by the underlying question in his voice.
That night
. Be vulnerable again and she was afraid he’d have his way with her, only to leave and not return to Willowbrook.

She extracted herself out of his hold, her uncertainty overriding her need to have him inside her again. “We can’t. If we sleep together, it wouldn’t be for the right reasons.” She shrugged. “Call me old-fashioned, but I want love with my sex.”

A guarded expression slipped over his face. Leaning back against the wall of the workshop, he crossed his arms over his chest and studied her. “Jo had interesting things to say about you the last time I was here.”

“Ditto for you,” she said, and blew at a stray strand of hair that had come loose out of her ponytail.

If he could easily dismiss what had just happened between them, she could too. Bringing her hand to her face, she pretended to nonchalantly study her fingernails. Dammit! There was dirt embedded in her nails. In her rush to ride the track, she’d forgotten to put on her gloves. He cleared his throat.

She glanced up and gave him her best irritated look. “I have an idea as to the things Jo had said, and what she mentioned to you is correct. But I don’t need you to harp about my craziness, too.”

He shook his head and let his arms fall to rest at his sides. “Not driving since the accident isn’t crazy. It’s understandable. The experience was traumatic.”

It was easier to let him rationalize away her pain as a traumatic experience than to make him understand why she punished herself by refusing to get behind the wheel of a car. Taking the chicken-shit way out, she shrugged and changed the subject.

“You wanna know what she said about you?” she said.

“No, but I’m sure you’ll tell me anyway, since you’re in such a sharing mood.”

Ugh, she hated when he dropped sarcasm on her, even in small doses. Needing her space, she walked over to stand by the dirt bike.

“Jo said you were busy training—running, riding, working out, but apparently no dating”

“And?” he asked.

“And, what?”

“What did you think of the no dating thing?”

Was she supposed to laugh or cry that he cared enough to ask? In a way, it was good he
didn’t
have a steady girlfriend, but she wanted to cry because she understood why.

Racing was Rhys’s life. No girlfriend, no distractions. For a competitive guy like him, she figured it was all about the next win, the best sponsorship, and the biggest endorsements.

And he rode and competed for a noble reason—to make his dead mother proud. Grandma Jo had told her so. But what about the living? Sighing, she mentally scolded herself for being selfish. How could she ask the man she loved to abandon his dreams and identity for her?

“I figured it’s your business whether you dated or not,” she finally said. “And you? Anyone serious?”

“One guy.”

“Oh.”

She didn’t tell him he was the one. Or that she’d had a crush on him since her first day of school when he found her lost in the halls and guided her to her first period class. Afterward, she thought she wouldn’t see him again, but when the bell rang at the end of Science, Asa found him waiting outside the classroom door to take her to the next class then the next until the school day ended.

From that day on, they hung out here and there though it wasn’t anything consistent. Training and riding the dirt track behind his grandmother’s place had kept him busy while she focused on school and played the role of peacekeeper in her parents’ marriage.

When she was a junior and Rhys a senior, his grandmother had hired her to tutor him. With his racing, he had gotten behind on his schoolwork. By the end of the school year, Asa realized he wasn’t slow to get the concepts—Rhys was actually very smart. Racing just proved to be too much of a distraction.

She watched as he threaded his fingers through his hair, her own fingers itching to grasp the dark strands and tug him to her, to clasp the side of his face between her palms and drop kisses on the mouth she could kiss forever.

“Don’t, Asa.” He hooked his fingers onto the belt loops of his jeans. “You’re giving me that look again, like you want me to love you. But I would only hurt you.”

“No, you’re wrong. You’ve only hurt me that one night.” Her chest ached, and she had to ask, “Is that why you said I was a mercy fuck? Because you could never fall for a girl like me?” Her voice rose at the memory of overhearing him say that crass comment to another partygoer.

He pushed himself off of the wall and started to toss tools lying on a worktable into a steel box. “I said those stupid words but not for the reason you think.”

His back was too her, his shoulders tight balls beneath his t-shirt. Suddenly, he whirled on her, his face a mix of emotions, his eyes bright in intensity.

“You’ve driven me crazy since the day I met you, Asa. After six years of us being friends, I thought taking it to the next level would get you out of my system. Instead, I wanted more of you.” He threw his hands to the air. “Hell, I was ready to give up my dreams and move back to Willowbrook for you. What I said was stupid. I was scared. Stupidity and fear had me saying the opposite of what was in my heart.”

How could she believe him when she still remembered that night so clearly?

“That’s a lie.” She gripped the bike’s handlebar, afraid she’d pound her fist into his chest instead. “There wasn’t fear or love in your words. All I heard was regret. We were friends, but never more. You never wanted more. You told me so long before we had slept together. I wasn’t your type, and could never understand or fit in your world. Awkward, shy, a shadow on the wall at parties. That’s what kids whispered. No one talked to me unless they wanted me in their group at school. Why? Because I did the majority of their work. I helped them get their As.”

She shook from the fierceness of her words, at the fury directed at him and herself for trying to please everyone, and for continuing to think one night of sex with Rhys would change the way he looked at her. He stalked over and reached for her, but she sidestepped him.

“Guys asked me out, but I thought it was because they heard of my mother’s affairs and figured I’d be like her, a slut. That’s why I didn’t date. I didn’t want to give anyone a reason to say the same of me. And the two of us getting together? Everyone laughed at the idea, remember? Then you started seeing the cheerleader.”

The tears wanted to start, and afraid they would this time, she covered her mouth with her fist and bit her knuckles.

“You’re nothing like your mother. And a jerk like me didn’t deserve the gift you gave me.” He cupped the side of her face with his palm, his touch comforting, his gaze fixed on hers before drifting to her mouth.

Panic filled her, and she shoved him. He might say those things now, but their past would continue to divide, preventing her from either loving or letting Rhys go. Gathering her courage, she took a leap of faith and bared her soul to the man she loved.

“Forgive me, Rhys, for blaming you in my father’s death. You weren’t at fault. I did it because I was a vindictive bitch.”

Chapter Six

Her words were like a bucket of cold water thrown at his face. After the accident, Rhys realized she was hurt and in shock but . . . “Vindictive?”

“What you said about me being—”

“Don’t say those shitty words again, Asa, or as God is my witness, I’ll put you over my knees and spank you.”

She was a picture of defiance with her chin tipped, her feet firmly planted with her legs wide apart and fists clenched at her sides.

“I still had leftover hurt from that night. When I came to and saw the wreck, saw you, I lashed out and placed the blame on you because . . . because at that moment I hated you for what you took from me—my father and my innocence—though I knew both instances were my fault.”

Sweat beaded along her upper lip while her voice trembled. She glanced at the ground before she looked at him again.

“I was distracted and hadn’t paid attention when I made the turn in front of your truck. My father and I were arguing over my mother. I told him it was time to leave her, and he didn’t need to stay because of me, or to continue with the illusion we were a happy family. But he insisted he loved her and that she would change. He just needed more time to convince her he was enough for her.”

Tears streaked down her face. “Don’t you see? That’s how it is with us. I kept thinking our friendship would become more, that I could change you too, or that with time, I’d be enough for you. But it didn’t happen. You say you miss me. But you miss me as a friend.”

She shrugged off her jacket and gave a small laugh as she wiped away her tears. “Pathetic, right? I should feel better now that I told you the truth, but I don’t. Nothing has changed. You can forgive me, but I can’t forget us.”

Clenching her fists at her sides, she shifted her gaze to the ceiling. It pissed him off sometimes when she took the cowardly way out and avoided talking about something just because she was raised to be non-confrontational.

And it irritated him to no end that they were both taught to hide their feelings rather than to explore them in a better manner. What was the point of suffering alone or bottling the angst until a person overflowed or was buried by those emotions? Shit, but who was he to talk? He’d been doing exactly what Asa was doing for years now.

“Tell me about this guy you’re serious about.”

Her attention swiveled back to him, and he watched as she blinked several times, either in surprise or confusion. It didn’t matter. Adorable was the only word to describe her.

“I verbally vomit my heart and soul to you and you ask me about a guy I’m seeing?” She barged past him and swung open the door. “That’s messed up, Rhys.”

Yeah, what he did was a three hundred and sixty-degree turn, but her tears threatened to bring him to his knees. Walking over to the entrance of the workshop, he trapped her in place, between the door and his body, as he set his hand above her head to push the door closed. The art of distraction in an emotionally charged situation. Asa had taught him well.

“Jo never mentioned you seeing anyone. So what is it? Are you or are you not seeing anyone?” Her eyes gave nothing away while the trembling of her body signified his effect on her.

Oh yeah, he felt the same. He burned for her. But as soon as his words were out, the attempt to distract her backfired on him as jealousy overtook him at the thought of the box of condoms in her backpack being put to good use with someone else.

“Whether I’m seeing someone or not is none of your business.” Shoving him, she opened the door, walked out of the workshop, and over her shoulder said, “You should be happy. We practically kissed and made up.”

“I disagree. We haven’t done either,” he called after her. “You don’t have my forgiveness, and I don’t have your belief in me, that what I told you about being scared shitless was true.”

She stopped and faced him, her cheeks flushed from the cold. “You’re never scared, Rhys. You’re the bravest guy I know.”

Her eyes watered, but she didn’t let the tears fall. Why didn’t she just cry? If she did, he’d have the excuse to wrap his arms around her and tell her everything would be all right, that he’d always be here for her. Dammit, her hurt left him feeling like someone just kicked him in the chest while he simmered inside for being the first bastard to break her heart.

“I’ve changed my mind,” she said, the defiance back in her eyes. “I don’t want to stay with you. I can take care of myself.”

He could understand her need to run away and recover from the intensity of their emotions and confessions, but . . . “I won’t let you freeze your pretty head off because you’re too proud and stubborn to accept how I feel about you.”

“I’m not pretty, I don’t plan on freezing, and I already know how you feel about me. My stubbornness and pride has nothing to do with any of the above.”

The fight in him faded at her obvious confusion. For now, he’d give in, but not without some concessions.

“I’m good with whatever you decide to do, but first, I want to make sure you have enough firewood. In these conditions, you’re gonna need a lot to get you through until the power comes back on.”