Or, my inner voice whispered, maybe she knew it and liked it.
“You should go surfing with us sometime,” Carrie said, her voice muffled from under her short blue sundress she was pulling over her head. “It’s so much fun.”
I snorted. “I don’t think Cory is the surfing type.”
“I beg your pardon.” Cory looked down his nose at me, and I stiffened. “I don’t expect someone like you to know what I do or do not like, thank you, so kindly refrain from voicing your opinions.”
Oh, hell no. No one looked at me like I was gum stuck to the bottom of their shoe and walked away without getting well acquainted with my knuckles. Not since kindergarten. I tightened my fists and advanced on the little f**ker. “Oh yeah? Want to know what I do know?”
“No.” Carrie pressed a hand to my chest and I stopped. Just like that. The girl held way too much power over me. “I don’t think Cory meant that as an insult. Did you, Cory?”
“Of course not.” Cory smiled again, just as falsely as the last time. I still wanted to punch him, just as strongly as the last time. “No harm meant, man.”
“My name’s Finn. Not man.”
I looked down at Carrie’s hand, which still rested on my chest. My heart sped up at the sight of it, and my vivid imagination ran wild. I pictured her with her hand on my chest, but it wasn’t innocent. No, it was while I drove her insane with need. My body buried deep inside hers as she cried out my name over and over again.
That was more like it.
I should kiss her right now, in front of this little jerk. Stake my claim.
“Sorry.” Cory held up his hands and backed away from me. The boy has a brain after all. “Finn.”
“Okay, I’m ready to go.” Carrie gave me one last warning look, then bent to grab her board and suit. “You ready to head back to the dorms?”
I clenched my jaw, knowing a dismissal when I saw one.
“Sure. Here. Let me carry that for you. See ya later, Finn,” Cory said.
He reached out and tentatively took her board from her, holding it out as far from his perfect pink shirt and plaid shorts as he could get. So she let Cory carry her board, but wouldn’t let me? What the f**k did that mean?
“Later,” I said, my voice rock hard.
Carrie looked at me over her shoulder, hesitating. “I’ll call you later, okay?”
I wouldn’t be home. I’d probably be out getting blasted to try to forget how stupid she was making me act lately.
Carrie waited for a reply, but when it became obvious I wouldn’t be giving one, she walked off with Cory. As I watched, Cory threw his arm over Carrie’s bare shoulders, hauling her close. Her musical laughter came back to me, making me grit my teeth. I’d never wanted to punch someone as much as I wanted to punch Cory right now—and he hadn’t even done anything wrong.
In fact, he was the perfect match for someone like Carrie.
While I was not.
A few beers later, I leaned back on the bar and took a long pull of my beer. I’d spent the last three hours watching football and was slightly buzzed. For the first time in a long while, I felt free to relax. Free to chill. I knew Carrie was safe. She was with Golden Boy, and he wouldn’t harm her.
Hell, he couldn’t even get enough balls to kiss her.
Someone tapped my shoulder, and I turned around. A brunette with huge—and obviously fake—breasts sat beside me. She was gorgeous and totally my type. “Hey there.”
I tipped my beer at her. “How’s it going?”
“Good.” She sidled closer, running her fingers over the tattoo on my bicep. “Better now that I’ve met you.”
I should be turned on right now. I should be wanting to bring her back to my place so I could f**k her brains out until I forgot all about Carrie. Until I forgot all about everything. But I felt…nothing. “Is that so?”
“It is.” She pressed her thigh against mine and caught my gaze. She had blue eyes, but compared to Carrie’s, they were dull and boring. “Wanna buy me a drink?”
I took another sip, trying to decide how best to answer. I’d like to pretend I was attracted to her. Maybe even force myself to pretend she was Carrie, and f**k her in the dark. But it felt as if I was betraying Carrie somehow, even though we weren’t and never could be a couple.
“Maybe another night.” I pulled out my wallet and tossed some cash on the bar. “I was just leaving.”
“Your loss,” she called out, her tone seductive.
I shook my head and walked out onto the crowded sidewalk. I had enough to drink that I should have been able to finally shake the hold Carrie had over me. But no. She still had her claws knuckle deep in me, whether or not she knew it. For the first time in my life, I didn’t know what to do with a woman. Didn’t know how best to solve this issue I had where she was concerned.
A laugh came back to me, and I stiffened. Lifting my head, I scanned the crowd. I slowed my steps when I spotted her. She was, of course, with Golden Boy. Cory stopped walking and hugged her close. From my vantage point, she looked stiff. Cory leaned down and kissed her, and she didn’t move out of his arms. Didn’t squirm or squiggle or try to break free.
Instead, she kissed Cory back.
I clenched my fists and ducked behind a nearby building, waiting to see if she needed any help. When would she push Cory away? Tell him to f**k off? Apparently never. When she pulled back and smiled up at Cory, her hand over his heart like she’d done earlier with me, my own heart twisted and turned.
Fuck that. And f**k this job. I quit.
I turned on my heel and headed home, red coloring my peripheral vision as I shoved my way through the crowd. I knew I had no right to be angry with her. None at all. I’d been the one to insist we be friends, and only friends. I’d been the one who constantly pushed her away, refusing to admit I wanted her, no matter how hard it had been.
Hell, I had practically given her to Cory on a silver platter. If I was in Cory’s place, I’d be doing the exact same thing, only I’d be doing it in private, where I wouldn’t have to stop. Fucking newbie.
I unlocked my front door and went straight to my fridge. After pushing aside the wine coolers I kept stocked for Carrie, I grabbed a cold beer and cracked it open. Crossing the room, I kicked off my sandals and ripped off my shirt before reclining on the couch. My gaze fell to the spot where Carrie always sat on our Saturday night hangout. The spot she was supposed to be in right now.