Shattered Heart (The Hart Series) (33 page)

“Bryan?”

“Rachel?”

We
both nod in unison.  “Did he tell you why they were arguing?”  Alex nods with a
forkful of gooey Twinkie in his mouth.

“Did
she tell you?”  I nod as well.

We
end the conversation there, refusing to discuss the topic any further.  We both
know their turmoil is because of us and I briefly wonder to myself if Alex
shares the same opinions as Bryan.  Does he think I’m stringing him along while
getting my bean flicked on the side by Oliver?

“You
ready to go?” he interrupts my inner ramblings.  Well, I guess we aren’t going
to fix anything when we are over four hundred miles away.  Standing, Alex
extends his hand to help me up.  When I’m fully upright, he pulls me flush
against him and looks down at me, caressing my cheek.  “Ready to get your ass
handed to you?” 

There’s
something about a man who leads a woman into a room by the small of her back. 
It’s possessive, it’s caring, and it’s downright sexy.  So, as Alex leads me to
the back of the bar where the pool tables are situated, my body hums with
desire.  I guess the myth that pregnancy causes women to turn into
nymphomaniacs is true. 

Pregnancy plus
Alex equals a constant ache of longing that nothing seems to quench.  That’s not
to say I was anywhere near prudish with him before the added hormones, but now,
now I can hardly stay away from his touch.  Now that I’ve had a taste of how it
really could be, how attentive and loving he really is, my body trembles for
him.  Even when his hands barely whisper over my body, instant goose-bumps
spread across every inch of my skin.  Knowing Alex is ready and more than able
is too much of a temptation.  A feeling so strong, that I either need to
satisfy or extinguish. 

“What do you
want to drink?” Alex inquires, pulling out a chair for me.

“Water please.” 
I nervously look anywhere but into his smoldering face, hoping he doesn’t
question my lack of alcohol.

“Water?”  He
tilts his head and looks at me inquisitively.  “That’s no fun.  How am I
supposed to get the truth out of you?”

“You’re making
it seem as if I’ve been lying to you.”

“Haven’t you? 
I’ve been asking you for answers since I got back from New York.  You’re
avoiding me.  You may not be lying, but you’re not telling me everything.” 

If he only knew.

He’s not the
only one who’s been affected by my indecisiveness.  I’ve been experiencing my
own whiplash; even more now than ever.  Being outside the confines of Las Vegas
is like breathing for the first time; like taking first steps on my own. 
Without the worries of Arianna and the impending doom hanging over my head,
I’ve been able to relish the feeling of just being with Alex. 

Being with him,
like we were in San Diego, reminds me of a simpler time.  It reminds me of
everything I loved about being with him.  All I see, feel, think about is him. 
When we have a chance to just be, even if we did agree to only spend time
together, it’s nice because there are no expectations, no preconceptions.

“What do you
want to know?” I ask, cringing at my words.  Such a loaded question.

Alex leans over,
his breath touches my lobe while his words beat against the flimsy wall I’ve
tried to build around my heart.  “There’s so much, Hart, so much.”  He turns
his head to look at me.  His eyes burning into my soul, ripping away every
shred of defiance I’ve been holding onto.  “But first, I need to go fetch some
water.”  He smiles and strides away.

I turn to watch
him approach the bar.  I’m not surprised when I catch almost all of the female
population either twirling their hair, pushing up their breasts, or pouting
their lips in his direction, hoping for a crumb of attention.  I can’t blame
them.  I know exactly how it feels to be under his spell.  Like a puppet, all
he has to do is pull my strings and I bend at his whim. 

The bartender
leans in, talking into his ear over the noise of the bar.  Alex flashes his
dimpled smile and I swear I hear a unified moan from all of his admirers,
including myself.  He’s flawless with his crystal blue eyes, his defined chin,
kiss worthy lips, and body made for pleasure.  I was blessed to have had him
once, but it’s an absolute miracle that he still wants me after all of my
efforts to push him away.  Anyone of sound mind would have given up by now, but
then again, Alex has never pretended to be sane when it came to me.

Walking back, he
flashes me his sexy grin, carrying a beer in one hand and a bottle of water in
the other.  When he begins to move his hips, swaying to the music, I shake my
head and smile right back.  Playfulness suits him.  Ten seconds later, he pulls
back a large drink from his frosty bottle and settles into his seat.

“I’m curious,
why’d you choose a bar of all places?” I question, taking in our surroundings. 
We left the skating rink and we agreed that it was his turn to pick our venue
for the night.  I would have thought he’d choose a much quieter place, seeing
as we were playing a game of truth.

Alex shakes his
head, his gaze dropping to his bottle; his finger wiping away the sweat
dripping down the amber glass.  “I guess, maybe unconsciously, I’m trying to
rewrite our past.”  I squint my eyes and purse my lips as he clarifies.  “When
I was in New York, I thought about the moment…the one I’d do differently.”

My heart sinks.

“I’ve never
regretted my life.  Every fucked up second of my childhood, into my even more
fucked up adolescence, I’ve never regretted what I’ve been dealt.  I’ve never
wished for a do over.  Maybe a small part of me thought I deserved what life
gave me.  That was until I met you.  And I can honestly say the only moment
I’ve ever regretted was that night in the bar.  The night I had you take me to
the airport instead of staying with you.  I never should have left.”

“Alex…”  He
reaches over taking my hands in his.  He made the right choice; the responsible
choice. 

“Elyssa…don’t
you understand?  I know what I said earlier, but this is my chance, my chance
to rewrite our ending.  Our chance for happiness.  That’s not going to happen
with anyone else.  It’s you…it’s always been you, and there will never be
another for me but you.”

I clutch my
belly and take my trembling lip between my teeth. 

“So for
tonight…let’s pretend that I never left.  Let’s pretend that the past couple of
months never happened.”  I nod, blotting my tears with the back of my hand.  I
want this just as much as he does and I don’t know if it should make me happy
or sad. 

“So…tonight,
this is how it should have been.  No tears.  Only happiness.  We deserve
this.”  He pauses, taking a drink of his beer.  “Now are you ready to get your
ass handed to you or what?” he smirks, leaning in to wipe away a stray tear
from my cheek.

“Pool is what
you had in mind, to re-write our history?” I jest, trying to push away the
momentary thoughts of sadness. 

Alex gets up,
racking the balls before striding over to pull a stick off the nearby wall. 
“It’s my favorite contact sport.”  
Contact sport? 

I take a swig of
water before slamming it down on the table and grab a stick for myself.  If
there’s one thing in life I’ve learned, through years in the insurance
business, is fake it till you make it.  I may not know everything there is to
know, but if I seem confidant, I have one up on the next girl.  Not ever having
played pool before doesn’t mean I have to show it.  Alex didn’t tell me he
never skated before, so now it’s my turn to pretend.  Two can play this game.

I watch Alex as
he runs the blue chalk across the point of his pool stick.  I mimic him before
brushing a strand of hair away from my cheek.  He chuckles from across the
table, covering his dimpled grin while I glare playfully in his direction. 
“What’s so funny, Mr. James?”

Resting his
stick against the table, Alex walks toward me, stopping mere inches before our
bodies are lined perfectly together.  He sucks in his lower lip, his eyes
running appreciatively from my legs up to my breasts, finally ending on my
face.

My insides
twist, my loins ache, every time he looks at me this way.  My Mom once told me
that emotions are not expressed in the words people say, but more in the way
someone looks at you.  Alex’s eyes speak a thousand words of adoration and
devotion; all I see in the crystal blue reflection is me. 

Toying with the
pendent at the base of my throat, Alex slowly runs his fingers along the curve
of my neck, up to my chin.  My already jagged breath slows even further.  My
eyes flutter when he grasps the side of my face, pulling me in closer.  When
his fingers run through the hair on the back of my neck my breath hitches. 
“Alex, what are you doing?”

He leans in,
scents me and whispers, “You have blue chalk on your cheek, Hart.”  He chuckles
and swipes the pad of his thumb across my skin before releasing me and walking
away.  I glare at him.  He’s playing more than just pool tonight and he’s
playing dirty.  “Do you want to break?” 

“Break?” I
question, looking from him to the table and back.

Alex points his
chin at the table.  “The balls.  Do you want to shoot first?” 

“Oh-um, I think
you should go first.” 
Shit, he’s going to see right through me.

He sets up his
shot, his forearms flexing as he steadies his stick.  I can see why Alex picked
pool.  His body bent over the table, his muscles flexed: this scene is every
girl’s wet dream.  Images of Alex laying me against the green material, legs
wrapped around his torso, fisting my skirt at my waist to…

“Elyssa?”  My
eyes shoot to Alex, who’s watching me with fascination.  “It’s your turn. 
You’re solids.”

My cheeks
flush. 
Head back in the game, Ely!
  “Solids?”

He laughs,
“You’ve never played have you?”  I shake my head sheepishly.  “I was kinda
counting on that,” he whispers so low I’m not sure if I was meant to hear.  He
reaches over, pulling me to him; my back resting against his front as he
whispers instructions in my ear.  He’s really testing my resolve tonight.  I
guess this really is a contact sport.

With the stick
properly placed in my hands, Alex bends me over the table.  I can
feel
him behind me; muscular torso and hips pressed against me.  He’s aroused and
apparently not shy about it, unabashedly allowing his erection to rub against
the cheeks of my ass.  I try to ignore my growing need and focus on the white
ball sitting in front of me.  Alex helps me glide the stick along my fingers. 
Back and forth.  The sensation is borderline erotic and the setting has turned
intimate in the matter of minutes while I allow the smooth wood to run between
my fingers.  Back and forth. 

The clatter of
the bottles, the laughter and loud banter, the pounding music, nothing exists
except for the two of us.  Everything else is white noise.

The only way I
know this position, this blatant flirting, has affected Alex is by his audible
deep breaths and loud swallows.  His arms tighten around me, pushing the stick
forward; the momentum of our bodies rolls the ball forward at warp speed before
sinking into the far right corner.  I push against him in excitement.  Turning
around to face him, his unconcealed arousal press’s against my belly.  My eyes
focus on his muscular chest as he tilts my face up to his. 

“You’re a quick
learner,” he mutters gruffly. 

“You’re a pretty
good teacher.”  I rest my hand over his heart, pulling my body closer to his. 
Don’t ask me to explain it, because I can’t.  Every time we’re near it’s as if
we’re magnetically drawn together.  Whenever we’re in this magnetic field, an
unseen force so strong compels us to be as close to each other, with or without
touching.  In our case, however, we can’t get past the no touching part.

“I’m not sure
this was such a good idea,” Alex chuckles as he gestures to his lower half. 
“I’m supposed to be playing hard to get and my damn body can’t seem to get with
the program.”

I smile up at
him.  “Well maybe when you told it to play hard…
it
misunderstood,” I
joke, letting my fingers run down his chest. 

“You need to
stop that, Elyssa.”  Alex’s eyes close, his jaw flexes, and a groan rumbles in
his chest.  But, not once does he try to stop me. 

“Sorry, you said
this was a contact sport.  I’m just hoping to distract you and throw you off
your game,” I tease, and because he’s right, I push against his chest.  “It’s
still my turn, right?”

Alex nods and
jokes about needing a cold one.  I’m not sure if he’s referring to his beer or
a shower.  Either way, I love that I still affect him.  We take turns making
shots, which not surprisingly, Alex sinks the majority of them.  I like the
fact that he doesn’t let me win because I’m a girl.  He actually makes me fight
for it.

“Alright show
off, you win.”  I return my pool stick to the wall with Alex following closely
behind.

“You ready to
answer a question?”  He leads me, again with his hand on the small of my back,
to our table and finishes off his second beer.  I nod hesitantly, but only
because I know there’s no avoiding the inevitable.  I already know what his
next question will be, only because if I were him, I’d ask the same thing.