Page 38 of Outlaw Heartstrings
She climbs into the driver’s seat and starts the car. Rolling down her window, she peers up at me.
My heart starts thumping when she looks at me that way, all innocent and uncertain with those pretty green eyes.
Out of nowhere, I imagine her kneeled in front of me with my cock gripped in her hands and that same docileexpression on her face. Suddenly, I need my damn crutches. My knees are weak just thinking about Alba that way.
Those nagging questions that are none of my business reenter my head. Does she have a man or not? Is Christopher still around? Or is it some other asshole keeping her warm at night? I’m dying to know.
I quickly put myself in mental time-out.My son’s aunt. Alba is my son’s aunt.Whoever she happens to be fucking these days is none of my goddamned business.
“Bye, Easton.” Her gaze is guarded, her cheeks are pink, and I’d pay a thousand bucks to know exactly what she thinks of me right now.
“Bye,Tiny Tiger.”
A smile flashes across her face when I call her the nickname I made up for her back in high school.
Our eye contact lingers a moment too long, but I can’t look away. Not until Alba drops her gaze from mine. That’s when my attention falls to the swell of her breasts against the neckline of her top. My mouth waters, but the bitter taste of guilt quickly floods my tongue.Stop. Checking. Her. Out.
I clear my throat. “You’d better not keep Christopher waiting,” I blurt.
Her head tilts to the side. “Christopher…?”
Fuck. I immediately feel like an idiot for saying that out loud. “Nothing.” I shake my head.
It takes me by surprise when Alba stares blankly out the windshield and mutters. “Christopher’s not in the picture. He hasn’t been for a long time.”
Something in the way she says it triggers an alarm bell inside my brain. That relationship is over, and it didn’t end well.
He hurt her.
My blood starts to boil.
Alba lifts her eyes to me, wearing that forced smile again. “Have a good night, Easton.”
“Have a good night,” I say, not understanding the sudden tightness in my chest.
She starts the engine and I take a step away from her little vehicle as she begins to back out of her spot. Then I stand there and wave until Alba and Jagger drive off.
When they’re gone, I step up to the rusty railing of Lucky Clover Bridge. I stare out at the river in the distance, reflecting on the day I had. I really,reallywant this situation to work out.
Saying a silent prayer for good luck, I dig some loose change out of my pocket and flick a shiny nickel into the water below. Then I toss in another one.
“This is fucking silly,” I scold myself as I drop down onto a park bench.
Throwing coins into wishing wells has never solved a damn thing. I need to come up with a plan—a solid, concrete plan—to make sure Alba and I are on the same page about Jagger.
After a while of trying to figure things out, I realize that my thoughts are running around in circles. I’m just ruminating.
Grabbing my phone from my pocket, I check the time. I know my teammates should have gotten out of their off-season camp a few minutes ago. I’ve been avoiding them lately. Been so busy, sulking about my hockey-less summer. But now I’m eager to reach out.
I open up a video call and dial in three of my teammates. Parker Paige and Tipton Bridges show up together on Parker’s phone, and then our team captain, Ronan Brighton, answers a few seconds later.A sense of reliefsweeps in. These guys happen to be among my closest friends.
“Easton!”
“He’s alive! Hallelujah!”
“Bro, where are you? You fell off the face of the earth.”
I nod, a smile breaking across my face. “Well, I came…home.”
