Used (Unlovable, #1) (Unlovable Series) (37 page)

“Put your arms around me, little fighter,” I command softly. Reluctantly, she does what I tell her. I bury my face in her neck, and I squeeze her to me. “I’m sorry,” I murmur against her neck. I say it a few more times before her tears wet my neck. “I would … if I could, I would be with you. I would take it all away for you. But I can’t … not like that.”

She stiffens against me and withdraws her arms, shrinking away before I realize how that sounded. “I understand. I’m gonna sleep on the couch tonight. I just … I need to be alone.”

“No,” I bite out. I want to tell her that the timing’s just not right. I want to be with her so much that it’s killing me, but we can’t yet. And now that an awkward silence has set in, she won’t believe any of my reasoning anyway. I’ll just have to show her. “I’ll sleep on the couch. You stay here.” In my bed, where I imagine you all day long.
In my heart, where I long for you.

Chapter Thirty-one

Denver

I
STUMBLE TO
the bathroom feeling like I have the worst hangover, but not having had a drop of alcohol. When I stare in the mirror, I remind myself again that he doesn’t want me. Or more accurately, wants me but won’t take me. I’m not good enough for him. My unlovable nature strikes again.

I splash some water over my face and run my fingers through my hair. I missed his hand in my hair, and the way it made me feel, last night. Usually when I wake up, it’s a rat’s nest because he’s fisted his hand in it sometime during the night. Not today. And that reminds me that I owe him an apology. I finish up in the bathroom before going to stand over him on the couch. He’s all scrunched up. I notice his hair has grown out a little since we first met, and I can’t resist running my hand over the soft darkness of it. Once I touch him, it’s like I can’t get enough. I run my fingertip over the lightening-shaped scar through his eyebrow. I smile as I realize the other eyebrow scar shoots like a falling star. Then I remember the crescent moon on his chin, and I move my finger down to run over that. He’s otherworldly, my celestial being. Well, not mine exactly.

I glance back up to his eyes, and they’re lit up like the stars themselves. “Don’t stop,” he says, his voice hoarse. His voice is intoxicating, and I am compelled to explore each scar.

Kneeling down in front of him, I move my finger up his jaw, down his neck, and over his collarbone, to finger the scar that cuts across. His hands are so scarred I could spend eons there. I take them in mine and run my lips over his knuckles, placing light kisses as I go. I sit back quickly on my heels as I realize what I just did. Touching him was one thing, kissing quite another. “I’m sorry,” I groan.

His brow furrows, and he whispers, “I’m not.”

“You confuse me,” I admit. He shouldn’t let me touch him if he won’t have me.

He sits up abruptly and winces with a quick draw of air beneath his teeth.

“Ransom, what’s wrong?”

“Oh,” he says, as his hand massages his knee. “Just an old war wound,” he kids. “I sat up too quick. I’m always so stiff.”

“Your knee?”

“Knee, back, shoulder, neck, ribs … you name it.”

He seems to have a handle on the knee, so I crawl up on the couch behind him and run my hands over his shoulders. He’s done so much for me. Then I practically kick him out of his own bed because of my own insecurities. I couldn’t feel any shittier. The tension in his shoulders vibrates under my hands. I work my fingertips around the knots, going deeper until each one fades.

“You should still have your ribs wrapped, huh?” He hums a
yes
. “You ever wonder why you do this to yourself?” I can’t help but ask.

“Every damn morning,” he jokes.

“You’re so tense.” I run my hands down the knobs of his spine, and he exhales and shudders with the movement. “Does that feel good?”

“Good, incredible, amazing … I’m afraid you’ve just bought yourself a lifetime of rubbing my back.”

My heart speeds up, prancing from his off-handed remark. His phone buzzes on the table, and I look over to see it blowing it up with messages. I stretch with one hand and grab it for him. My eyes catch on
Elizabeth
. Ugh! I hand it to him and start to get up, but his other hand comes out and traps me. “My aunt,” he states.

He clicks through them and then jumps so quickly that I almost topple off of the couch. “Ransom?”

He knocks on Pete’s door before heading to his room like a hobbled flash. “I gotta go home today,” he calls out.

Pete stumbles out and looks at me questioningly. “He’s in his room,” I answer.

I’m not sure what to do, so I go in with Maggie and scoot her over into Pete’s spot so I can lie on her side of the bed.

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t know. Ransom got some texts from his aunt, and he took off to his room.”

“I hope nothing’s wrong,” she whispers.

“Me too, but I’m afraid there is.”

Her brow wrinkles. “You OK?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Ransom was not happy about us leaving you last night. I feel terrible, but you promised you were fine.”

“I was fine. I am fine.” I glance over my shoulder to make sure the coast’s clear. “He brought a girl back here last night,” I mutter.

“Oh, no. What happened?”

“Nothing. I mean he … did what he did, she left, and he climbed in bed with me. And I told him I couldn’t sleep with him after that. I feel terrible making him sleep on the couch, but the thought of him holding me after he …”

“I bet,” she whispers before a grin overtakes her face. “He holds you?”

I bite my lip to keep from smiling. I don’t trust myself to talk about the way that makes me feel, so I just nod and move on. “I have no right to feel jealous, but I was so pissed and hurt. He’s just helping me through a rough patch, but I can’t help it, Maggie … I’ve fallen for him. And I’ve never fallen for anyone like this.” God, I’d wanted to fall so badly for Greer. Why couldn’t it have been Greer? And why couldn’t that have happened years ago?

“I know you have, sweetie.” She fusses over me as she pats my hand.

“I hope he doesn’t know. How embarrassing,” I groan.

“Why would that be embarrassing?”

“Because he doesn’t feel the same way about me,” I say it like I would say
duh!

Her soothing voice is stowed, and she takes a tone of impatience. “I’ve told you before that Ransom feels—”

Pete clears his throat while entering the room and grunts, “Ransom wants to talk to you.” Worry mars his features.

I jump out of the bed and head back to his room, where he’s zipping up his duffle bag. “Is there anything I can do?”

Grabbing my hips, he pulls me into him. Tension courses through him in waves. His eyes burn into mine. “Yes, you can stay with Pete or Maggie. I don’t think you should be alone. I wish I could bring you with me, but it’s not a good time. I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon.”

“Yeah … no, I understand,” I assure him. “I hope everything is OK.”

“It’s my mom, but she’ll be all right.” I hug him to me because he doesn’t sound convincing.

“Is it a far drive?”

“Nope, little over an hour is all.”

“I’ll miss you,” I whisper. I cringe a little at my admission, but I hold my chin up and maintain eye contact.

Some emotion I can’t name shadows his eyes before he drops a kiss on the top of my head. “I missed sleeping with you last night, and now I have to miss it again. I’m sorry I was an ass. I wish I had time to explain, but my mom needs me.”

“Don’t worry about me, please. Finish getting dressed. I’ll make you some coffee for the road, all right?”

He just nods.

P
ETE AND
M
AGGIE
have worn me out. We spent the day working the horses and trail riding. After a mostly sleepless night, all I want to do is crawl in bed and pass out. Unfortunately, our stock of clothing needs to be replenished, so Maggie and I head to our dorm while Pete whips up something for dinner. We put some clothes in the washer downstairs before heading up to our room. After fiddling around the room a bit, I go back down to throw the clothes in the dryer. As I round the staircase, Stephanie catches my attention.

“Hey, girl. Where’ve you been hiding?”

Hiding was right. Come to think of it, I am done hiding. I’ve never hidden in my life. When Ransom gets back, I’ll just have to tell him it is time for me to move on. Especially in light of last night’s event and this morning’s … weirdness. I’ve been trying to process that all day. One minute, I’m so hurt that I can’t see straight. The next, I’m tending to him like he’s breathing his last breath and he’s the most precious thing I’ve ever seen. That made no damn sense.

“Denver?” she prompts.

“Oh, sorry. I’ve been staying with Maggie and Pete.”

Her eyebrows bunch up. “Doesn’t Pete room with Ransom?”

Totally not an innocent question. Our little version of Mayberry—everybody knows everybody else’s business. “Uh, yeah. We’re just friends though.” She doesn’t look convinced.

She catches me up on the goings on of our dorm life—it’s like a bad soap opera. We walk upstairs, and I start to tell her I’ll talk to her later, but she squeals, cutting me off, and spins around to run to her room, telling me to wait right here. She bounds back after a minute. “I can’t believe I almost forgot, but Greer stopped by a few days ago and asked me to make sure you got this.”

My heart bottomed out when she said his name. I’m pretty sure this is the longest I’ve ever gone in my life without saying or hearing his name. Tears spring to my eyes on that thought. A gaping hole in my chest makes itself known. God, I miss my best friend. I’ve tried not to think about him all week, and I had been pretty successful. I think that was Ransom’s plan, surrounding me so that I had some distance to consider everything more logically. Pretty smart plan. I’ve been functioning well all week.

“Denver?” Stephanie waves the letter in my face. “You’re acting so strange. Are you sure you’re OK?”

I clear my throat before trying to speak and give her as much truth as I can. “Yeah, I’m gonna be fine. Greer and I had a fight. And you know, we grew up together and have been best friends since before we were born, so it’s been hard.”

She throws her arms around me. “You’re so lucky to have that. I can’t tell you how many friends I’ve had come and go over the years. To have Greer in your life like that … I’m sure there’s nothing you two can’t work out. I will say, I thought you two were headed toward more than friends up in Wyoming.”

That had been the night I told him that I was his, and we kissed on the dance floor for everyone to see. What a silly little fool I’d been. Kissing Ransom and then giving myself to Greer? I deserve everything I get.

I avoid the more than friends comment. “Yep, I’m a lucky girl. Thanks for everything, Stephanie.”

I
’M ABLE TO
make it back to Ransom’s apartment and through dinner without reading the letter even though it is burning a hole in my pocket. I just don’t know that I’m ready. What will it mean for us? Is this his goodbye? I know that I deserve it. He would be better off without me since I bring out the worst in him—jealously, insecurity, anger …

Or, rather, what I was unable to give him brings that out. But that’s the kicker, I was so close, so ready to give him all of me, but since he’s so used to me and my old ways—the flirting, the using others to fuel my desires, the mind-numbing sex—he couldn’t accept, couldn’t even hear, what I was offering him.

I opened myself up for him, and he never even heard me.

Even though I am royally fucked-up, I always held out hope that, in the end, it would be Greer and me. Even though I’ve been entertaining thoughts of Ransom, I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone other than Greer or spending it not even knowing him. And just as quickly as the barriers around my heart had erected, reinforced, and welded themselves shut, they disintegrate, crumble, and crash down around me.

Despite all my protests and denials, I do love Greer. Not as just a friend, either.
I love Greer Tanner.
Regret rips its way through me. I wince and breathe deeply. I wish I had been whole enough to admit it before now.