“My dad used that one when I was growing up.”
Confusion has me pausing before taking another drink. “Why did your dad lie about what he did?”
Cav twists the bottle in his hands. “He didn’t always like to share the whole story. Said it was no one’s business.”
More confusion and more questions bombard me, but he doesn’t offer anything more. “Are you going to elaborate on that?”
He shakes his head and tips the rest of his beer back, swallowing it down. “Nope, because we’re not here to talk about me. We’re here to have fun and live in the now. After all, if we’re sticking to what you wanted, we would’ve already had all these getting-to-know-you conversations.”
Irritation flares to life instantly. “Well, if you hadn’t disappeared three years ago, standing me up and leaving me wondering if you were dead, maybe I would know the answers. But you can’t even give me that—the reason you left. I mean, what the hell, Cav? I deserve some sort of explanation.” All the bitterness I’ve been holding on to for three years leaks into my tone like acid.
Cav sets the beer bottle on the table with a whack. “Not tonight, Greer.”
“Is that another one of your rules? Did I just make it easier for you to avoid answering the question because of my silly little fantasy where we can both pretend you didn’t kick me in the gut by leaving?”
His expression shutters, but not before I see pain flash across his features. He doesn’t like knowing he hurt me. Well, guess what? I didn’t like being hurt, so I figure that makes us even. I’ve had a lot more time to dwell on it, though.
He presses both elbows to the table and leans toward me. “Are you ever going to be able to let that go? Are you always going to hold it over me?”
I sit back in my chair, crossing my arms. “Would you let it go without some kind of explanation?”
His expression sets into harsh lines when he says, “There are some things you’re better off not knowing.”
Uncrossing my arms, I reach for my drink and lift it in salute. “Cheers to being so delightfully vague. You should definitely win a medal.”
Before Cav can reply, the errant waitress returns with two bottles of water and a tray of food. Conch ceviche and a dozen shrimp and lobster tacos.
The food smells delicious, but my stomach is still knotted. Instead of reaching for the food, I thank her and ask for another drink.
Cav watches me as he piles tacos and ceviche onto his plate. “What would you like?”
“Booze,” I reply, my tone as snotty as I’ve ever heard it.
His eyes narrow. “Am I going to have to fuck this attitude out of you? Because I will. I fucking promise I will.”
“All I want is an answer. Some kind of excuse so I can quit thinking about it. You’ve taken up way too much space in my head for years, and I’m over it. I need to move on with my life.” I look up at him. “I need closure.”
His mouth set into a thin line, Cav leans forward over the table, pitching his words low so only I can hear them. “You don’t need closure because we’re not fucking finished, Greer. We’re just getting started. Someday I’ll give you what you’re asking for, but today is not that day. If you’re not okay with that, then we’re gonna have to find a way to get you okay with it.”
Again, delightfully vague, but this time with a hint of a threat.
“Get me okay with it? What does that even mean?” The twisting sensation in my belly fades as hunger takes its place. I reach for a chip and scoop up some ceviche.
An ominous smile pulls at his lips. “I’ll fuck you until you can’t put two coherent thoughts together, and then I’ll take you to the edge over and over, stopping when you’re about to come until you’re begging me to finally let you. You’ll offer me anything I want if I’ll just let you have your orgasm.” He toys with the neck of his empty beer bottle. “You’re a greedy girl when it comes to orgasms, and I’m going to tease you until you think you’re going to break.”
Heat pools between my thighs, even though part of me wants to toss my water bottle at him. The lack of panties has me intimately aware of the effect of his words.
How can I want him so badly when I still don’t trust him? There’s nothing stopping Cav from disappearing again. Well, not disappearing completely like he did before, but disappearing from my life.
And if he does? Then what?
I move on once and for all. Fear of losing him slides away because if he walks out like he did before, I’m secure enough in who I am to know that he’s not worth wasting my time on. For three years he’s been the one who got away, and I was left with too many questions and no answers. But if he leaves again, I’m good. Or at least I will be once I clean up the shards of my shattered heart.
Shattered heart? No, my heart isn’t involved in this game. It’s sidelined because it can’t be objective here. This isn’t love; this is lust and closure for the past. I hate lying to myself, but sometimes it’s a necessary evil to maintain my sanity and composure.
“And after that?” I ask, a hint of challenge in my voice. “When you can’t keep me drunk with pleasure? Am I going to get answers then?”
Cav meets my gaze with his own challenge. “If I think you can handle them.”
I reach for my margarita and raise it again in a cheerful salute. “Then let the fucking and orgasm denial begin because I’m not all right with this.”
Well, that didn’t go as planned. I carry a completely hammered Greer from the golf cart through the front door of the house. I didn’t expect the first time I carried her over a threshold to be quite like this.