Never Wanted More (4 page)

When the guys get to our table, Max immediately sits beside Kat stretching his arm over the back of her chair. His brother sits on the other side of her, while Emmett remains standing next to the table, looking around the bar. Wyatt is the last to reach the table and he doesn't immediately sit beside me, even though that's what I was expecting him to do after our last few encounters. Instead, he tugs Kat's ponytail, grinning down at her when she whirls around to glare at him before sitting at the far end of the table, closer to Annabelle.

He scans the room along with Emmett before finally meeting my gaze. When our eyes meet, his search mine, although for what I'm not sure. His brow furrows as he continues to study me and I squirm inwardly. He's looking at me like he can see everything I'm feeling, everything I try to keep inside, and I hate it. I hate him. I glare at him but don't say a word. He's on the other end of the table, and with the noise level in this building he'd never hear me.

"Baby!" a feminine voice squeals, startling me enough that I'm able to break the connection with Wyatt. I turn just in time to see a slim girl with dark hair leap into Emmett's arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him exuberantly. Standing beside them is a blonde with pink streaks throughout her hair. She rolls her eyes heavenward before greeting the guys and taking the last empty seat at the table.

"Hey Wyatt," she says, her voice teasing.
 

He grins back at her, "Hey SB. How's it going?"

"Same as always, hanging out with Olivia," she says with a shrug before looking around the table. Her eyes widen slightly when her gaze sweeps over Annabelle, Scarlett and I, and she leans closer to Wyatt to say something in his ear. He tilts his head to the side, probably so that she doesn't have to stretch so far to speak to him. Even though he's listening intently to whatever she's saying to him, his eyes lock on mine.

Feeling too exposed, I tear my eyes from his and turn to Scarlett, practically shouting in her ear, "Let's go dance."

Pulling away, she studies me intently for a moment before nodding. Standing up, she pulls on Annabelle's arm to bring her along with us. Leading the three of us to the dance floor, they immediately join in the synchronized dance. Maybe the dance floor wasn't the best idea after all. Dancing is so not my thing. Scarlett and Annabelle don't let me stay on the edge of the dance floor though. Each grabs a hand and pulls me over to stand between them, attempting to teach me the moves as we go along. By the time I finally start to catch on, the song is over and a new dance starts. Luckily, this one is similar so I'm better able to keep up.
 

The second song ends, and the three of us are laughing over my two left feet when an upbeat dance song comes on. Keeping a tight hold on my hand, Scarlett maneuvers me so that I'm between her and Annabelle so that I don't have to do very much actual dancing. They are doing the majority of the work, while I'm between them basically standing still. Closing my eyes, I give myself over to the movement and attempt to move with them. For a little while, I'm able to forget all the pressure and the expectations I'm under and just listen to the music. I haven't had this much fun in a long time.

I'm concentrating so hard on the movements we're all making that I don't even jump when a hand lands on my hip. Thinking it's just Scarlett, I try to follow her movements until the hand on my hip brings me back into a decidedly male chest. Whirling around, I look up to see Wyatt behind me. Scarlett is off to the side dancing with Clay, and Annabelle is with them. Emmett is dancing with the girls who joined our table, and I don't see Max or Kat anywhere. Placing my hands on Wyatt's chest, I attempt to push him away, but both of his hands are on my waist and all I succeed in doing is pushing the lower half of my body against his.

Gasping at the feeling of his erection against my stomach, I start to struggle. Wyatt looks both confused and concerned, but he releases me quickly once I really start trying to get away from him. Turning, I move through the bodies on the dance floor, which isn't easy because it's packed. Heading towards the sign that says "Restrooms", I don't look back at the dance floor. I know that I've seriously overreacted and now that I'm away from him, I feel extremely embarrassed.

I'm almost to the bathroom when a tug on my hand pulls me around and my back is against the wall. Wyatt is standing in front of me breathing heavy and looking worried.

"Are you okay?" The look on his face is earnest, and I can tell he really is concerned about me.
 

I don't understand why he keeps turning up unwanted, and why he keeps trying to make sure I'm all right, but my exasperation comes out in my voice. "I'm fine, jeez."

Wyatt runs a hand through his hair as he continues to study me. I'm not sure he believes me, and I try to pull my hand from his. My pulse is pounding, and the fact that he keeps coming to check on me weakens any defense I have against him. I don't want to be attracted to him, and I need to get away from him before I do something really stupid like kiss him. He must have the same thought because he tightens his grip on my hands while his gaze moves from my eyes to my mouth.

Unconsciously, my tongue darts out to wet my lips and he squeezes his eyes shut with a groan before his head lowers and he crushes his mouth to mine. My mouth opens in a gasp allowing his tongue to sweep inside while his free hand slides around to the back of my neck, holding me in place while he kisses me in a way no one else ever has.

I'm not sure when it happened, but he let go of my hand at some point and his hand is now gripping my waist keeping me still along with the hand at the back of my neck. He begins trailing kisses along my jaw line making me shiver. But when his teeth bite my earlobe tenderly, I come back to reality.

What the hell am I thinking? Pushing him back, he lifts his head to level his heated stare on me. I've never had anyone look at me this way, and my breath catches in my throat.

"Please stop," I whisper, and turn my head, closing my eyes. When I feel his hands drop from my body, I risk a look at him. He's standing a few steps back from me with a haunted look on his face.

"Peyton," he starts, but trails off when I hold up a hand.

I shake my head, "Don't Wyatt. Just don't." Before he can say anything else, I walk into the restroom. Closing myself in a stall, I press my fingers to my lips where I can still feel his kiss. What am I doing? A relationship with Wyatt is the last thing I want. I don't want a relationship with anyone.

***

Coming out of the bathroom I'm oddly disappointed that Wyatt isn't in the hallway waiting for me. Not wanting to think too long about that, I head back to our table finding Kat, Max and Annabelle with their heads bent together discussing who knows what. Emmett has Olivia sitting on his lap, her arms wrapped around his neck and their mouths fused together at the other end of the table. Dropping into the seat next to Annabelle, I try to follow along with their conversation.

Thirty minutes later, I still have no clue what they are talking about because the only thing I can focus on is what happened in the hallway earlier. In fact, I don't even notice the woman sitting next to Kat until I hear my name. Jerking my head up, I see an older version of Kat looking at me.

"Anna, this is my new roomie Peyton," Kat says, gesturing towards me. "Peyton, this is my older sister Anna."

Her sister gives me a friendly smile, "Hey Peyton! Sorry about sticking my messy little sister with you, but my bestie needs a place to crash for awhile."

"It's fine," I mutter, not knowing what else to say. I can't exactly say gee, thanks for kicking your sister out so that I have to share a room with her.

In an attempt to show I'm not interested in having an actual conversation, I let my eyes roam around the room, freezing when I see Wyatt out on the dance floor. It isn't the fact that he's dancing so much as how he's dancing and whom he's dancing with. He's standing behind Olivia's friend, but he's so much taller than she is that he's bent over slightly to grip her hips in his large hands. If it wasn't for the unexpected jealousy I feel, I'd probably laugh. As it is though, I want to scratch her eyes out and punch him in the balls.

Knowing I can't stay here and watch him be all over someone else after he just had his tongue down my throat twenty minutes ago, I make a lame excuse to Kat and Annabelle before stumbling out of my chair and heading towards the exit. I'm such a glutton for punishment though that when I pass the dance floor I can't help but take another look at them.

Wyatt must feel my eyes on him because he looks up at me, his eyes widening when he sees the look that I know is on my face. Dropping his hands from SB's hips, he makes a move like he's going to come over to me, but stops when I shake my head vehemently at him. This time, he lets me leave. I don't know why, but the fact that he nods, holding my stare for just a beat longer before he continues dancing with her, upsets me. Ignoring the lump that's suddenly in my throat and the burning behind my eyes, I push through the steady stream of people still coming into the bar, trying to get outside before I completely lose it. I know better than to let a guy affect me.
 

Leaning back against the wall outside the bar, I shoot Scarlett a quick text letting her know I left before finally leaving downtown for the comfort of my currently empty dorm room. I still need to prepare myself for my trip home in the morning, something I'm absolutely dreading.

Chapter 6

Family dinner. I still don't understand why we do this every month. Family dinner is just an opportunity to "tell Peyton everything she's doing wrong and what she should be doing instead." By now, you'd think they would realize that I'm not Patrick or Patricia. My brother and sister are 16 and 14 years older than me and both are perfect. I'm the screw up, and the never-does-anything-right child. The child that shouldn't have been, and as punishment they are harder on me than on either of my siblings. You'd think from the way they act that Commercial Music is synonymous with Satan worship, even though it's something that has always fascinated me.

Patrick is the oldest. He's 35, married for the second time and has two kids with his crazy ex-wife. For real, she's insane. They split after Connie caught him with his dick down his secretary's throat...for the fourth time. Not the fourth secretary, just the fourth time with that secretary. Now, he's married to Alyssa, the aforementioned secretary. Then, there are his children. Patrick Jr. Is 9, and Penny is 5. They bounce back and forth between my brother and his ex and each parent badmouths the other. It's a fun situation all around.

My sister Patricia is 33 and thankfully single. Well, at least my parents think so. She's actually been in a relationship with Amanda for almost four years. My parents aren't aware of this because they'd disown her. It's sad, but true. I actually do like my sister, even though she's never stood up for me. She's too afraid our parents will look too closely at her life if she takes up for me. God forbid the money train stops or she gets cut out of the will.

Then, there are my parents. My father's father was the mayor of Whitten before my father was elected mayor himself. Our family has lived in this area for as far back as I can recall, but I zone out when they talk about it. My father is extremely proud of the long-standing political background and preaches about it often. My mother is "old money" from Chicago, she met my father when he was in college. She didn't go to college and has never worked a day in her life' she waits on my father like he's the king and she's a poor slave. It's actually kind of pathetic, and it's one reason why I never want to let a man get close to me. I don't want to turn into the vapid mess that is my mother.

When I can no longer procrastinate, I grab my things and head inside. As soon as I open the door, my mother appears, immediately pursing her lips in disappointment. Straightening my spine, I prepare for the hatefulness that I know she's going to spew at me. "Hello mom."

"Peyton," she sighs, "I hope you're not planning on wearing that to dinner. It's dreadful." Scrunching her nose, my mother looks my outfit up and down. I'm wearing a gray cashmere sweater, skinny jeans and soft gray knee-high boots. Hearing her though, you'd think I was dressed in rags.

"It's a three hour drive mom, I wanted to be comfortable."

Curling her lip, she continues like I never opened my mouth. "Go upstairs and change right now. We're eating in an hour and you have a lot of work to do."

Arguing my point with her is pointless, so I don't even try. My shoulders slump as I slide around her to go up to my old bedroom. Before I even start up the steps, she snaps out, "Straighten up Peyton, slouching is so unattractive."

"Yes mother," I mutter, not even turning around.

"Don't take that tone with me young lady. Remember, dinner is in exactly one hour." I don't bother responding. "Oh, and Peyton?"

"What?" Throwing my hands up in the air I spin back around to face her.

She smiles, but it isn't friendly at all. "Bradford and his parents will be joining us for dinner." With that final blow, she turns on her heel and walks back down the hall. Fan-fucking-tastic.
 

***

Shutting my bedroom door, I can't stop the relieved sigh that escapes my lips. Leaning back against the door, I shut my eyes, trying to calm my trembling body. Conversations with my mother are rarely pleasant, and that interaction was definitely one of the worst. I can't believe she invited Brad and his family. Actually, yes, I can. It's exactly something she would do. I haven't spoken to him since right before I left for college, and there are plenty of reasons for that. I don't even want to think about my high school boyfriend or what his invitation to family dinner means.

Setting my bags down on the bed, I head over to my walk-in closet to pick out something to wear. Dressy designer clothes have no place in my dorm room, so I left the majority of them here. Thanks to my parents ideas of what dinner should be, they get plenty of use when I come home one weekend a month.