Home > No Longer Lost(8)

No Longer Lost(8)
Author: Angel Payne

“Let me go check if they’re ready for you inside. And really, hon, I’m sorry if I offended you.”

Another forced smile. “No worries,” I said without looking up. “It’s all good here.” I didn’t look up again until I heard John’s retreating steps followed by the RV’s closing door, leaving me to let the memories and anger back in.

Damn it. Damn him. When would these taunting thoughts stop? I’d nearly been back in control, and then he had to go and stir everything up at the Memorial Day party. Had to go and reinsert himself in every cell of my libido…and hope in my heart. Had to go and invade, just as ruthlessly as he had the first time, every corner of my carefully guarded world. The asshole didn’t deserve an inch of that real estate, either—let alone the miles he was taking up.

But I missed him. Everywhere. All the damn time. My body ached and throbbed for his touch. My lips tingled when I remembered his kisses. My pussy pulsed when I recalled all the bites he peppered across my body, driving me insane with his lusty gifts of precious pain. He’d drugged me with his sexual skill. Made me an addict to his passion. A total slave to his love.

I was hopeless.

A fool.

Just like my fucking mother.

I hurled the pen back into my purse with a furious growl. “Goddamnit!”

At the same time, someone cleared their throat in front of me. I whipped my sights up to find John standing there again. A bewildered frown consumed his face, and he was wringing his hands like an Amish guy in a strip joint. “You…uhhh…okay?” Clearly, the guy wasn’t comfortable around emotional females. At all.

“No,” I barked. “I’m really not.” But luckily, he didn’t call me “hon” again. Probably saved himself from having to extract his balls from his spleen.

“Do you want to reschedule for next time? Really, Taylor, it’s fine. You look a little…I don’t know…frazzled?” He was choosing his words carefully, his voice soft as though talking to a child.

Which was getting on my nerves worse than “hon.”

“God. Sorry, John.” I punctuated it with a stiff exhalation. “It’s been a really tough week at work. And I’ve got a lot on my mind. I was a million miles away.” I faked yet another smile, gritting my teeth behind my closed lips. At this rate, I was going to need some damn veneers.

“I noticed that.”

Forget the veneers. It’d be time for full-on dentures, because I was going to grind everything in my mouth down to stubs. But I had no choice and kept up the look through my prolonged stare. What exactly did he want me to say? His good ol’ boy nature was working my last nerve, but I quickly reminded myself none of this was his fault.

“So. Are you ready for me?” I asked, patience as thin as my nerves.

“Yeah, we are.” More of his weird hand-wringing thing. “But…uhhh…hey…”

“Yes?” I barely avoided dragging it out like a snake about to strike.

“Before we go inside, can I ask you something?”

I raised my eyebrows in expectation, not trusting my smart mouth not to go in twenty sideways directions if I opened it. This guy was cute but shit at reading a room.

“Well…”

“John.” I folded my arms. “Just spit it out.”

He settled himself with a self-deprecating grin. “Well, I have my lunch break after your appointment. I was just thinking…maybe we could go grab something together? If…uhhh…you feel like it, I mean.”

I pulled in another breath. His stammering was probably enticing to some girls, but not this one. John was the kind of man I’d chew up and spit out before the end of round one. He was kind enough and certainly good-looking—but a guy with a submissive streak this wide didn’t call to the deeper desires in my blood, the primitive needs in the corners of my soul. Still, something had to be done about exorcising Mac Stone from my system. Maybe spending some time with someone else—besides the girls and their goo-goo eyes for their husbands—was the way to start that process.

The thought finally led to me throwing up a careless hand. “Ah, fuck it,” I laughed out. “Sure. Why not?”

The hand I’d just held up became a stiff symbol of warning. “But, John, please understand that while I’m not involved with Dr. Stone, I have no interest in being anything other than friends with you, okay? I’m not ready for anything else.” I owed the guy complete honesty.

“Hey, I get that,” he returned. “But friends go out to lunch all the time, don’t they? I mean, you probably should eat a little more, Taylor.”

I rolled my eyes. It was better than my initial desire of booting him in the shin. “If you say that again, I will throat punch you. So if we are going to have any hope of a friendship, don’t go down that road again. ’Kay? ’Kay.”

My curtness set him back physically. I think I also freaked him out once more, because he simply turned and motioned for me to follow him into the Bloodmobile. But during all of that, I definitely caught the little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he went. Some guys just liked having their balls busted, I guess.

And the other kinds of guys? The kinds who rose to an insult like a moth to a flame, getting more and more excited until a frenzy swirled around them? The kind who incited similar energy in every molecule of air around them, literally changing the atmosphere with their presence?

That was the guy I yearned to be having lunch with. The alpha moth who could handle a girl like me.

Damn it to hell. Stop.

The blood draw went without incident, just like it had every other time before I knew the name Maclain Stone. Just invoking his name, even silently, was scrambling my brain while I sat there, but I managed to keep my shit together long enough not to pass out this time.

By the time I finished and had my snack, my thoughts were all clowned-out. I was ready for some fresh air in my lungs and some new human interaction to feed my mind. Wasn’t a damn thing to be done for my aching libido, so I worked to ram it to a back burner while waiting outside at the table for John to wrap up and join me.

During those few minutes, I worried if I’d indeed made a mistake.

When he came out the door, all smiles and puffed-up chest, I was pretty certain I had.

“So where would you like to go, my lady?” His mock chivalrous tone already had my teeth all but wrestling each other again.

“Okay, really,” I scoffed. “I’m no one’s lady. And wherever is good. I can find something anywhere; I’m not picky.”

“Well, I have a gluten allergy—and nuts and shellfish also. And eggs. Oh, and citrus too. We probably should go to this place I usually go. They have a great non-GMO menu.”

“Yeah. Fine.” Though it sounded like he was speaking another language. Not that I wanted to go there. At this point, I sensed simpler was going to be better. How the hell had I thought this would kill the damn moth? “Just get me some grub, and I’ll be good. Probably best to take separate cars.” Best—and wise. “I’ll follow you. Where are you parked?”

John pouted. No, seriously. Pouted. “Oh, come on. Let’s just drive together. The parking sucks everywhere in this town.”

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