MY FATE FOR YOURS

Chapter 19- EAMON

Eamon

 Tawny has her arm linked around my waist, sort of forcing me to do the same. Her smile is eager. Her skirt is so short even girls are staring, and... I'm not feeling it. Just like I always know when I'm out with a girl—I know I could have her tonight with just a little bit of effort, but I don't even know if I want to bother.

How could I not want her? I let my eyes wander over her curves again. The corner of her mouth quirks up like I'm playing into what she wants. I love girls like this. They're not clingy. They know what they want, and they know how to give me what I want.

"So, you've lived in Crawford your whole life?" she asks. It's a throwaway question. She doesn't give a shit.

"Yep," I answer as I hold open the door of the diner. It's a stupid move bringing her here. If I was going to take her to dinner, I should have stuck with my normal plan of heading toward the coast, or the Riverside restaurant, and instead I'm in the town I live in.

"I'm glad you called." She sits in a booth, but has to sort of jump as she slides over because bare legs and vinyl don't mix. I know she's making room for me to sit next to her, but that's just out of the question.

Only...haven't I done the same thing when I knew it would get me what I want?

My head spins through our dinner, and even though I'd break my own arm for one of Missy's pies, I'm ready for this to be over. To go home. To try and shake Rachel out of my head.

I'm paying and we're walking out and even when she slides her hand into my back pocket, my body doesn't react. We stop at her car, and I play my next move in my head. How I should say I'm not ready for our night to be over, and why don't we take a drive up the highway to see if we can find somewhere for dessert (I happen to know a few places not far from here that I've used before.) But I don't say anything, just stand and stare at the features that look all wrong because they belong to the wrong girl.

Tawny slips her fingertips into the front of my jeans, tugging so I step closer. If this was Rachel, I'd have her pinned against the car. If this were Rachel, I'd probably be doing some other juvenile move like grinding against her as we kissed because I'd need her so bad.

Instead, it's Tawny and her tits pressed against my chest just before her tongue snakes in my mouth. I kiss her back because I don't want to be an ass, but I'm not feeling it. She doesn't taste right, she doesn't feel right.

I pull away and get that unnerving, prickly-spine thing that says someone's watching. The second I spin around, I hear a car door slam and see Rachel peeling away.

My chest tightens so hard I feel like I can't breathe, and my guts twist up. I don't want this. I don't want to feel this. It's why I stay away from shit like relationships. I grab Tawny and kiss her for real, wrapping my arms low on her waist, pressing my hips to hers, but it still doesn't work.

"You okay?" she asks, only I can't answer because I'm not fucking okay and I should be.

Rachel and I made a deal. We had a weekend. She doesn't get to be pissed right now. I shouldn't feel like a piece of shit right now. I clasp my hands and rest them on my head for a moment while I push out a breath.

"I'm shit at relationships. I don't do them." I watch her for any sign that she's not one-hundred-percent on board with me.

"Okay." She shrugs.

"A good friend of mine works as a bellboy at the Lyon Casino Resort, and I'm pretty sure I can get us a room."

"But you might not stick around." She folds her arms like she's thinking.