I shook my head, tossed my rag back to the engine of my car, and chuckled aloud. Thought I’d had a finger on her. Wasn’t even close.

But one thing hadn’t changed.

I still wanted to kiss the hell out of that pouty mouth.

chapter four

Misha


My phone vibrated in my back pocket. I pulled it out and squinted at the screen as I navigated through the drove of students who were spilling out of the lecture hall.

A small smile pulled at my mouth when I read the needy message from Indy.


COFFEE?!?!

I tapped out a quick reply.


Be there in two :)

Changing course, I pushed through the throbbing herd of bodies, heading for Common Grounds, the little coffee shop Indy and I had made a habit of frequenting between classes last year. School had started last week. Indy was still having a really rough time after her breakup with Dean, and I was doing my best to spend as much time with my friend as I could, hoping my presence would ease her mind in some way. She’d worried me this last weekend, coming home so blitzed out I didn’t think she even knew her own name.

My days?

I risked peeking up at the faces that blazed by me without a care. There was no hint of recognition, not a soul who paid me any mind. Relief slipped through me, just under the surface of my skin, a buzzing gratitude flooding me as I gave thanks for the mercy I’d somehow been granted. I’d settled into some kind of routine, keeping my head down and my focus entirely on school and my internship. Each day that passed with no one saying anything to me just gave me another boost of confidence¸ an affirmation that I really belonged here.

Seeing my kids yesterday was confirmation.

I’d walked into that building and all of them had run up to me, calling my name as they laughed and smiled and hugged my legs.

Being with them was worth any amount of discomfort I might suffer here. Those kids . . . they were where I belonged.

I swung open the glass door and stepped into the bustling coffee shop. I inhaled deeply, hit with the overwhelming scent of coffee, warmth infiltrating my chest.

Yum.

The small space overflowed with people. Students clamored to get their caffeine fix as they rushed to get to the next place they needed to be. I popped up on my toes, craning my neck as I looked for the shock of red hair that could only belong to my friend.

“Hi.” It was uttered right next to my ear.

“Ah!” I jumped and spun around, finding Indy standing there grinning at me.

“Oh.” I flattened my hand on my chest. “You scared me.”

She rolled her green eyes. “How you can be startled in the middle of a busy store in broad daylight is beyond me.”

“Don’t judge me . . . I have keen senses.” I smiled up at her, tucking a thick lock of hair behind my ear as I looked back down.

She laughed lightly. “Whatever you want to call it.” She knocked into my side. “Come on, let’s get some coffee. I thought I’d pass out or possibly die of boredom in my economics class. I need caffeine, and now.”

We headed to the counter, Indy in front of me. She ordered her usual, and I stepped up after her and did the same.

Waiting for our drinks, we spent a couple of minutes chatting about nothing, the two of us almost feeling normal as we caught up on things that really didn’t matter. For a moment it felt like things were back to the way they had been before our lives were upended by two guys who hadn’t deserved either of us, two people who didn’t think twice about breaking a heart or fracturing someone’s spirit.

“Indy,” the barista called, pushing the paper cup in her direction.

“Oh yes . . . gimme, gimme, gimme.” Indy grabbed her coffee and winked at me as she backed away. “I’ll find us a place to sit.”

“I’ll find you,” I called as she disappeared into the fray.

I stayed in the mass of people milling around waiting for their drinks, turned to study my shifting feet while I listened for my name.

“Misha.”

I stepped up and stretched my hand out for my cup when another darted over my shoulder. A big hand wrapped around my cup and snagged it from the counter.

What in the . . . ?

“H-h-hey, that’s mi—” I started to say as I whirled around. I stopped short when I met with the hazel eyes smirking back at me.

Redness rushed to my face.

Oh, who was I kidding? Every inch of my skin lit up like a chili pepper, flaming and burning and shouting out all my insecurities.

Damn him.

I’d managed to dodge him for the last week, peeking out the window to make sure the coast was clear before I rushed out the door and down the sidewalk. The last thing I needed was another awkward exchange like he’d somehow dragged me into last week. I didn’t need to be scrutinized and teased, and I sure didn’t need to find out just how far this guy’s jerk-off ways went.

Of course my belly had a whole different idea about the situation, all those butterflies doing a little choreographed happy dance when my eyes fell on the glorious display standing just inches away from me.

Glorious?

Ugh.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

I couldn’t stand this guy, couldn’t stand the way he tugged and twisted at me like he had some magnetic pull, spinning me up, no doubt with the intention of spitting me out.

“Hey yourself,” he said, holding on to my cup like he had an inherent right to it.

This time I couldn’t help stamping my foot, indignant. What a jerk. “That’s mine,” I said, hating that it came out sounding all petulant again. “It says so right there.” I pointed to the Misha scrawled messily along the side of the cup, rocking back on my heels as I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Obviously.” His brow shot up with the sarcasm, before he lifted my cup to his nose and sniffed. “God . . . what are you drinking? A gallon of sugar? This isn’t coffee. This is a liquid candy bar.”

“It’s none of your business what I’m drinking.” So there, I added in my head, fighting the urge to stick my tongue out at him.

He drove me crazy, made me feel like a little girl fighting with a bully who’d stolen my favorite toy.

I’d dealt with enough bullies in my life.

He chuckled and rubbed his chin. I got locked on the movement of his fingers, my mouth falling slightly agape as he tugged and scratched at the stubble on his jaw. He was so close, and I could feel myself getting sucked in his direction, that aroma that had assaulted me the other day stronger, but this time it was all man and soap and sex—all Darryn Wild. I trembled. Oh God.

Catching me, he smirked.

Damn him.

Why did he have to be so beautiful?

“Give it,” I demanded, just wanting to get my coffee so I could get the heck away from him.

“Darryn,” the girl behind the counter called. He turned away from me. Seeing his face caught her off guard, and her eyes widened with appreciation as she stood there and blatantly devoured him with her gaze. Apparently no one was immune to him. He didn’t even spare her a second’s glance. He snatched up his coffee, holding both cups tucked up close to the strength of his chest.

“Are you going to give me my coffee or do I have to buy another one?” I said in surrender, giving up his game because I didn’t have the will to play it.

He blinked back at me like I was crazy. “Of course I’m going to give you back your coffee. I was just being the gentleman like I am and was going to carry it to our table for you.”

I felt the disbelief take over my expression. A gentleman? Yeah, right. Then the rest of what he’d said sank in. “Our table?” I asked, a challenge bleeding into the words.

“Our table,” he deadpanned. Those hazel eyes did that shimmer thing again, where they danced and sang with mischief, all jubilant mayhem on my erratic heart.

“You wouldn’t even shake my hand last week. Now you owe me.”

My chin lifted in defiance. “You’re insane,” I said.

“And you”—he handed me my coffee, before he reached up and plucked at my bottom lip with the pad of his index finger—“hurt my feelings.”

And I knew it was all just a ploy, this boy-man-god or whatever he was manipulating me, my flesh so easily turned to putty, aching for him to take those big hands and mold me into whatever he wanted me to be.

Those alarms started ringing like loud, clashing cymbals struck right near my ears, the off-key chorus hosted by the betrayal that had changed something intrinsic inside me.

Part of me wanted to give in to what it was Darryn was making me feel. But that was the problem. Because if I was honest with myself, what he made me feel most was scared. The feelings of desire he awoke in me just reminded me of how vulnerable and foolish I’d been in Hunter’s deceptive hands. I didn’t want to be that girl anymore. I wanted to be stronger and smarter and wiser.

“I seriously doubt that, Darryn Wild, because guys like you don’t have feelings.”

But as soon as the words were out, I realized one thing I hated more than sounding naive was sounding like a bitch.

Anger scored me deep. Hunter. I hated him most of all. He’d done this to me and made me this way.

For a split second Darryn’s face transformed, flashing with something that looked like pain, shutters dimming the mischief in his eyes. Then he slowly nodded through a forced smirk. Again, he tapped the side of my mouth, a reminder of the effect he knew he had on me. “I guess we don’t, do we?”