Cathryn Fox - On Her Terms

The path narrows, and up ahead a bunny scurries into the underbrush. The temperature has dropped significantly, but I don’t mind. As I approach my favorite private spot, I’m about to unzip my pants, but humming reaches my ears. What the hell? Only Tate and I know about this place, and he’s back at the hotel. I slow my steps, not wanting to frighten whoever happened to stumble upon my spot, but when I see a pile of clothes on the ground, my heart jumps into my throat. That skirt. That blouse. A certain woman from my past was wearing those tonight.

I CAN’T FOR one minute believe that Luca and Tate know each other, let alone work together. I dunk myself under the cold water, letting it cool my heated body—which just might have more to do with the man I hate than the humidity of the night. Luca Marino is a complete and utter asshole, but my body can’t deny he’s as gorgeous today as he was all those years ago. Okay, maybe that’s not entirely true. Back in the day he was a boy who looked good in his blue Oxford hoodie. Today he’d fill that sweater out like a man. Damned if I wouldn’t like to see that.

Heat trickles through my blood despite the frigid water, and I swim from one side to the other, my mind going back to that mortifying night he walked me to my room and left me there. Alone. Every girl in my dorm wanted Luca Marino, myself included. I’d seen the women he gravitated toward and as a chubby girl, I never thought I had a chance with him. Until that one party.

He’d been wearing that comfortable hoodie, and he had smiled at me. At first I thought he was looking at someone else, but when I turned, no one was behind me. My girlfriend encouraged me to go for it, and I was so damn nervous, I kept drinking. With enough alcohol to cloud my judgement, I sauntered up to him. This was it—I’d finally have a real conversation with him. We talked for a few minutes and he asked where I lived. I totally freaked out, inwardly of course. The Luca Marino wanted to know where I lived! I told him and as he walked me back to my dorm, I could barely put one foot in front of the other. Not because I’d been drinking but because I was going to have the night I’d been fantasizing about forever, with the man of my dreams, and come tomorrow I’d be the one wearing his sweater, a symbol of our relationship. I stepped into my room, and when I turned back to him, he was pulling his phone from his pocket and closing the door in my face.

I can just imagine he was calling his friends. I wonder if they all had a good laugh about it afterward. Let the chubby girl think you’re into her, and then dump her at her door. Was it some kind of cruel prank? One nasty rumor spread around my dorm after that night certainly had suggested that.

Goddammit, I was such a cliché.

Stop thinking about him.

Needing to clear my head, I begin humming, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t get that man out of my thoughts. A laugh I have no control over bubbles in my throat. I went out of my way to avoid him on campus until he graduated at the end of that year. But there’s no avoiding him here, now is there? Nope. We’re in the same bridal party, for God’s sake.

After the introductions, I panicked and pretended not to know him. He didn’t correct me, which leads me to believe he doesn’t remember me. Why would he? Since graduating law school a few years back, I lost the weight and changed my hair. Inside, I’m no longer that shy, self-conscious girl, either. Though I can’t deny that even as I moved on, I never forgot him or that experience. It took me a while to feel confident on a date afterward. Meanwhile I’m sure he hasn’t given me a thought. As I consider that, my mind races down a dark path, calculates all the ways I could get back at him for humiliating me. Maybe I could get him to take me back to his place and then walk away, the same way he walked away from me. It’s juvenile for sure, but maybe revenge would help me finally get him out of my head once and for all.

Exhausted, I stop swimming and climb from the lake. I shiver as the cool mountain air washes over me. I should have brought a towel but I ran from the hotel so fast, needing a reprieve from Luca, I never thought to grab one. I fold my hands over my naked body and go in search of my clothes. Wind whips over me, and I dart a glance around, combing the exact spot I left them.

I shake my head when my hunt comes up empty. “What the hell?”

“Looking for these?”

My head jerks up to find Luca standing close, his outstretched arm holding my clothes.

“What are you doing here?” I ask and snatch the clothes from his hand. At least he has the decency to keep his eyes closed. “Turn around,” I say. He does as I ask, and I struggle into my clothes, a difficult task with my body dripping wet. I fight with my skirt and finally get it over my damp hips.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he says. “Bri, isn’t it?”

Okay, he’s either messing with me, or he really doesn’t remember who I am. “Brianna. My friends call me Bri. What are you doing here?”

“I came for a swim. I didn’t expect anyone else to be here.”

“How do you know about this place?”

“Tate showed it to me.”

I nod, even though he can’t see me. I hurry into my blouse and button it. “Okay, you can turn around now.” He slowly turns, and his heated gaze rakes over my body, a slow, leisurely inspection that steals the air from my lungs. He presses his thumb to his bottom lip, and when his head lifts and his eyes meet mine, I damn near bite off my tongue.

My mind quickly revisits my juvenile plan. From the way he’s looking at me, I have no doubt I could get him to take me to his bed. But isn’t that just like this type of guy? Only interested in me now because I fit his standards. My ex, Ryan, was the same way, telling me I was beautiful one day and then hounding me when I gained a pound or wore something he didn’t like. I squash my anger and slowly blink my lashes, trying my best to be flirtatious, but that’s so out of my wheelhouse, I’m not sure I can pull it off.

“I should get out of your way then, let you have a swim,” I say and let my lashes fall slowly, hoping I’m giving him all the right signals.

Curiosity moves into his eyes as he angles his head, his gaze raking over my face. He probably thinks I’ve escaped the asylum. One minute I’m raging on him, and the next I’m doing my best to be flirty.

A cool breeze washes over me, and my teeth clamp together. “You’re freezing,” he says. While I want to shoot back with, way to state the obvious, I bite my sharp response and hug myself tighter. “Come here.”

He steps up to me and drags me to him. My face goes to his chest, and I breathe in the clean, soapy scent of his skin. His natural aroma, combined with a hint of cologne—likely named Panty Remover—makes me want to do just that. Holy God, no man should ever smell this good. I breathe deeply, fill my lungs with his scent, and then hold my breath.

He runs his hands up and down my arms, creating heat with friction, but I only shiver harder. Although I’m not so sure the goose bumps breaking out on my flesh are from the cold this time.

“You need to get off this mountain and inside somewhere warm,” he says and steps back. I wince at the dismissal. So much for my efforts. His fingers go to the last buttons on his shirt. I turn toward the path, giving him his privacy to undress and swim. “What are you doing?” he asks.

I turn back toward him. “Going back to the...” My words fall off when he peels the shirt from his shoulders, exposing a beautiful bronzed body and a six-pack my fingers suddenly itch to touch.

“Here.” He closes the distance between us and wraps me in his shirt. Warmth sinks into my bones as he throws his arm around me and guides me down the hill.