Chapter Ten
Three Days Later
Natalie
Knock knock knock.
I put the rental movie on pause and get up from the bed, frowning at just how loud the knock was. Room service? They’re usually a lot quieter. I straighten my pajamas just in case it’s Clay, run a hand through my hair, and then head to the door.
A quick glance in the peephole shows a slender figure with dark hair, dressed in all black and carrying a pizza box, and I don’t know whether to be excited or annoyed. I open the door and tilt my head. “What are you doing here, Lexi?”
“I heard someone was in need of pizza and sarcasm,” my best friend says in her flat, deadpan voice. “Lucky for you, my only appointment canceled on me today.”
“Canceled on you or you canceled on them?”
She shrugs, pushing past me into the hotel room. “I might have mentioned something about needing to commune with my dark overlord.”
I roll my eyes. Lexi’s the weirdest person I know, but I also know she’s a sweetheart. Underneath the dark clothing and gothic commentary is the kindest, gentlest person, who will drive hours just to bring her depressed friend a pizza. “You’re such a goober.”
“Don’t ruin my reputation as a minion of evil,” she says, setting the pizza down and then curling her legs under her on the couch. She’s wearing black-and-red-striped stockings under a long black sweater—unusual wear given that it’s summer in Texas, but that’s Lexi for you. “How are you doing? I’m worried about you.” She sticks her lower lip out. “You make me sad, and you know I don’t like human emotions.”
I can’t help but smile at her commentary. I grab one of the fluffy pillows from the bed and sit on the end of it, cross-legged. “I’m hanging in there.”
“And where is Prince-Not-So-Charming?”
I shrug. “Your guess is as good as mine. I haven’t seen him since that day.”
Lexi makes a face. “But he wants you to stay here, on call, just in case he needs a little some-some to get him through the workweek?”
“I guess.” I never thought it’d be something Clay would pull, but I have to keep reminding myself that just because he has moments where he seems like the old Clay, he’s had just as many where he is the new Clay . . .
And the new Clay’s a real prick.
“I stopped by your dad’s place to say hello,” Lexi comments when I grow quiet.
I perk up. “How is he? I’ve gotten lots of texts and some pictures, but it’s nothing like being home.” His nurses have been fantastic and keep me constantly updated, but I worry. Of course I worry. I’ve got nothing to do all day but sit here, wait for Clay, and worry.
“Well, the nurses are so cheerful that I had to stop in the parking lot and vomit.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Okay, I didn’t. But they’re still revoltingly cheerful. And happy. Your dad was having a middling day when I went,” she tells me, lifting a hand and giving it a back-and-forth shake. “Thought he was in a movie, but having a great time reading lines in a script with the nurses. They love him, by the way. Everyone was so happy it made me wish a tapeworm on them.” She gives a little nod to punctuate her weird comment.
“I’m glad,” I say softly. I really am. As long as Dad’s happy, I don’t mind that he’s living in the past. The “happy” part is what’s important. “How did the place look?”
“Completely different,” Lexi admits. “The parking lot is roped off because it’s being poured, the outside of the house is completely repainted, and the roof is being redone. There’s people everywhere updating everything. It all looks brand new.” Lexi narrows her eyes. “I hated it.”
I snort. “You hated it because it looked good?”
“And cheerful. So cheerful. You know I hate cheer.”
My lips twitch. “Which is why you decided to become a yoga instructor.”
“Of course. Have you heard the cries of pain people make when I tell them to get into pigeon pose? It brings joy to my black, shriveled soul.” She mock-shivers.
“You’re weird.”
“Thank you.” Lexi gestures at the pizza. “Eat some of the carbohydrates I brought you. I’d say it’s good for you, but we both know I’m lying.”
I get up from the bed and take a slice of pizza. “Thanks for coming by.”
“What are friends for? Besides, the moment you told me where you were staying, I wanted to come. Rumor has it that the fourteenth floor is haunted.” Her eyes gleam. “Wanna switch rooms to the fourteenth floor?”
“Nope.” I move back to the bed with my pizza slice. “I’m staying here, just like the jerk told me to.”
Lexi sighs dramatically and gets a slice of pizza for herself, then folds her legs gracefully in a cross-legged pose until the soles of her feet are turned to the ceiling. She’s so graceful. I’d be jealous if I didn’t adore her so much, weirdness and all. “So you’re still obeying all the rules he gave you? That’s no fun.”
“I don’t have much of a choice.” The pizza’s cold and greasy but I don’t care. I take a bite anyhow. “He’s paying for so much stuff that it makes my head spin. I don’t get the right to complain about anything.”
“Was he a shitty lay?” She plucks a pepperoni off her slice and nibbles on it. “Guys with lots of money are normally overcompensating for a physical lack.”
“There’s no physical lack,” I say, blushing. Lexi knows how I feel about Clay, and she’s just trying to get a rise out of me—or make me feel better. “Like I told you in my text, there was nothing wrong with the stuff in bed. It’s just out of bed . . . he’s an asshole.” Lexi’s been my constant text companion over the last few days, since I’ve had nothing to do but stew over how wronged I’ve been.
“It’s entirely possible that he’s not gifted with a silver tongue like yours truly,” Lexi says. “Maybe he put his foot in his mouth and now feels too embarrassed to show up and apologize.”
“Now I think you’re giving him too much credit,” I tell her wryly. “I’ve been trying to figure him out for days, and I can’t. The room’s paid up and the staff are under instruction that I can have anything I want and it’ll just be charged to the room. So he must be coming back—”
“Anything? Charged to the room?” Lexi interrupts, an interested look on her face.
“Before you say it, we’re not getting strippers, Lexi.”
She pouts. “But think of the delicious irony.”
“I don’t want to think about irony. Or strippers. I just want Clay to come back and set me free.” I stare down at my half-eaten slice of pizza. I’m not hungry. Normally I try to eat my feelings about my dad and my situation, but lately I haven’t had any appetite at all. This situation with Clay has me feeling lower than low, and helpless. So helpless.
“Do you really want to be set free?” Lexi asks me. “Or do you want him to come back and bone you to death if he promises not to speak anymore?”
Good question. I can’t deny that I have been thinking about the sex constantly. Because, okay, the sex was great. I’m sad we didn’t get to have sex again. I’m sad that now I’m constantly thinking about Clay and the way his body felt over mine, or that nudge I felt just before his cock sank into me . . .
But I also can’t deny that he’s hurt my feelings, badly. And just disappearing for days on end? Who does that? What am I supposed to think? Did I do something wrong? He said I didn’t, and that he enjoyed himself . . . but he’s also left and hasn’t returned. Hasn’t texted. Hasn’t called.
Right now I feel like discarded trash.
“You know what this calls for?” Lexi announces, interrupting my thoughts.
“A Kardashians marathon?” I tease. The horrified look she gives me is worth it.
“I was thinking more like Ghost Hunters. And then after midnight, we can go up to the fourteenth floor and see if we can commune with spirits.”
“Or we can just watch Alien Encounters and eat pizza and talk about what a terrible person Clay is and I’ll go into great detail about how miserable he made me.” I try to give her a brave smile, but I feel like crying all over again. I shouldn’t be this affected by a day or two spent with Clay Price, but I am. I’m utterly miserable.
She unfolds her legs from the couch and moves to my side. Her arm goes around my shoulders. “Oh, Natalie. You know I like everyone’s misery but yours.”
I rest my head on her shoulder. “Thanks, Lex.”
“Of course,” she says, patting my head like I’m a dog. “Let’s compromise. We’ll stay in and watch The Bachelor and question everyone’s life choices.”
I chuckle despite my unhappiness. “Sounds like a plan.”
Clay
“What’s crawled up your ass?” Seth grabs a beer from my fridge and plops down on the ramshackle couch in the living room of my single-wide. Ever since Boone got married and tore down his trailer, mine’s become the unofficial meeting spot of all our brothers.
“Shouldn’t you be at work?” He should be out in West Texas, roughnecking. Even though he gets his share of the Price Brothers Oil money, Boone wants him to do his turn on the rigs so he can appreciate how good we have it. I glare at him from my side of the couch, my arms crossed over my chest. I’m sittin’ in front of the TV, mopin’, just like I have for the last few days.
“Shouldn’t you be watchin’ somethin’ other than Animal Planet?” Seth retorts, grabbing the control from my side of the couch and turning the TV to wrestling.
I shrug. Wasn’t watchin’ it. Wasn’t doin’ much other than thinkin’ about Nat. How I done fucked up everything all over again. How I’m gonna get her to forgive me when I’ve done the unforgivable.
Seth just gives me a weird look. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.” Don’t feel like talking about it, especially to my youngest brother. He’s clueless about women. Not that I’m exactly killing it in that area, either.
The door to my trailer opens and Knox strolls in. Fuckin’ great. “Let me guess, Gage is about to show up, too.”
“Damn,” Knox says, unruffled by my surly attitude. “Someone’s got blue balls like crazy.” He heads to the fridge and studies my beer collection. “All you got is Natty? No Corona?”
“I got the last one,” Seth says, taking a swig of his beer in triumph.
Knox comes over and grabs it out of Seth’s hand, and then the two start wrestlin’ over the damn bottle. Normally I’d join in for a bit of horseplay and noogie Seth on the head a few times, but it don’t appeal to me much today. Not much does. I just glare at the two of ’em. “Ain’t y’all got somewhere else to be?”
They stop and stare at me like I’ve grown another head. “I think our brother’s sick,” Seth says. “This ain’t like him.”
Knox just gives me a knowing smile. “Things goin’ bad with Natalie?”
“Natalie?” Seth looks interested. “Like, Natalie from back when you were in high school Natalie? Is that the girl you were yakking about the other day?”
I just glare at Knox. He had to open his big mouth. “Fuck off.”
“Wait, what’s going on with Natalie?” Seth tries to wrestle his beer back from Knox’s hands. “Why is this the first time I’m hearin’ about it? Here I thought you were all talky because you got your dick wet. Why didn’t anyone tell me it was high school Natalie?”
The last thing I want to do is talk about this to both of them. “‘Cause it ain’t none of your business? Both of you, get out of here. Leave me the fuck alone.”
They both seem surprised at my reaction. I’m normally the one that doesn’t mind company, or horseplay. Tonight, though, I just wanna be left alone to mope, like I have for the last few days.
Knox hands the beer back to Seth. “You should head out, man. Me and Clay need to talk.”
Seth makes a sound of protest. “Why do I have to leave? I was here first—”
“‘Cause if you don’t, I’m gonna tell Boone you’ve skipped out on work twice this week and I had to lie to your foreman for you.”
“Damn it,” Seth whines, and flings himself up off the couch. “Fine, but I’m takin’ the new Madden game with me.” He snatches it off my TV.
I just shrug. Whatever. Ain’t been in the mood for games. I stare at the TV and the match on screen without really seeing it.
Seth storms off, and then Knox gets up and locks the front door, then returns to the far end of the couch, thumping down. He gives me a curious look. “Operation: Scoundrel not going so well?”
“More like Operation: Dumbass,” I bite out. “Or Operation: Asshole.”
“She not put out?” Knox asks mildly.
I give him a scathing look. I want to tell him to fuck off for even darin’ to mention my Natalie like that, but the need to unburden myself is eatin’ away at my gut. After a moment, I admit, “I made her cry.”
“So?”
Rage boils through me. He doesn’t care that I fucking hurt her? Because I fucking care. “What do you mean, so?”
Knox just gives me a calm, steady look. “You’re the one that’s supposed to be ruthless, bro. Supposed to finally get what you want from her, no feelin’s involved.” He gives his head a slow shake. “Should have known that you wouldn’t be able to hold it together. You’re too nice.”
I don’t feel particularly nice right now. I feel kinda like a creep. A user. A guy that made his girl cry. “I’m just fuckin’ up everything.”
“You might be,” Knox agrees cheerfully. “What was her mood like this mornin’?”
I glare at him.
“That bad?”
“It’s none of your business.”
Knox grabs one of the couch cushions and smacks me with it. “I’m tryin’ to help you, idiot. Just spit it out already. Can’t be that bad.”
I clench my jaw and snag the cushion when he hits me with it, and then I throw it across the room. “I don’t know what her mood was like this morning,” I admit. “Or yesterday morning. I’ve been avoiding her for three days. Ever since . . .” I snap my jaw, going silent. Doesn’t feel right talking about sex with Natalie in front of Knox. That shit’s private.
My brother’s silent. I glance over at him and he’s staring at me with wide eyes. “You haven’t seen her in three days?”
“No,” I admit gruffly.
“And the last time you saw her, you made her cry?”
I nod, silent. I ain’t proud. I just want to know how to fix it.
“Was it something you said?” When I glare at him, he chuckles. “Never mind. Of course it was. So how come you haven’t seen her in three days?”
I scrub at my face with my hand. “Just . . . I don’t know. Didn’t want to look at her and see the hurt in her eyes. Thought it might be best if I left her alone.”
“I’m pretty sure abandoning a chick after you nailed her isn’t gonna make things better,” Knox says in a mild voice. “In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s gonna make it worse.”
“Well, what the fuck else am I supposed to do?”
“You try apologizing?” he asks.
I’m silent. Because no, I didn’t try apologizin’. Didn’t seem right. I’m sorry I stuck my dick in you and we both enjoyed it until you didn’t. I just . . . up and left. And told her not to leave because I hadn’t finished with her yet. Yeah, I think I’m fucking this up good. Ugh. “I screwed up,” I admit to Knox. “Figure at this point if I just say ‘sorry’ it’s gonna piss her off more.”
“So you’re just going to keep ignoring her?” His eyebrows go up. “Can I just go on record sayin’ that this is a bad idea?”
I’m sure he ain’t wrong. “I don’t know how to fix this shit.”
“Depends on how you want it fixed. What do you want from her? Just a bit of pussy now and then? You already got that.”
I’m silent, rubbing my knuckles as I think. There’s no encouraging message written there today. If I did, it’d be a S for “stupid” instead of “scoundrel.” Right now I’m feeling plenty stupid. I don’t got a lot of experience on how to keep a girl happy. I’m clearly terrible at it. “I want her to smile when I touch her instead of cryin’.”
“You want her to be in love with you,” Knox says bluntly. “Thought there weren’t gonna be any emotions attached in this scenario?”
I scrub at my beard with my hand. Even that small movement makes me think about how my beard rubbed her face raw. It’s like everything I do is totally thoughtless and fucks her up. Man. I am such an ass. “That was before I saw her again. I think I’m still in love with her, Knox. I just want her to be happy. I want her back. Thought I was mad at her for all that shit seven years ago, but . . . I think I just want her.”
“You got her. You paid her to be yours.”
The thought makes my gut clench. “I don’t want her like that.”
“How do you want her, then?”
I want her smiling and willing. I want her to love me. I want her eyes to get soft when she looks at me, and I want her to curl up against me when she’s sleepy. I want my hand on her knee as we have dinner. I want her laughter. I want her everything. “Not forced to be with me,” I say softly. “I want her to be with me because she wants to be there.”
Knox snorts. “Then romance her, ya dumbass.”
“Don’t think I can un-ring that bell,” I tell him flatly. “I screwed up any chance I had of romancing her with this whole ‘pay her to be my assistant’ thing. It was a dumb fuckin’ idea.”
“It’s not a dumb idea,” Knox insists. “You’re just goin’ about it like a dummy.”
I scowl at him.
“It’s true. The assistant thing just gets you in the door. Means she has to listen to you. Doesn’t mean ya own her. Now that you got her and she has to listen to you, now you turn on the charm. Bein’ a scoundrel doesn’t mean bein’ a dick. It just means bein’ a little unscrupulous now and then to get her to pay attention. She’s payin’ attention now, so now you can lay on the charm.” He crosses his arms over his chest and looks smug. “Though you might have a ways to go before you get out of the doghouse. But it can still be done. You just need to lay it on thick. And if she tries to run or push you away, you just wave that contract in her face. You’ll wear her down eventually.”
“So . . . you’re sayin’ I should hammer romance at her until she gives in?”
Knox nods sagely. “Precisely.”
It ain’t the worst idea.