Supernova Read online

  I smirk when I meet her eyes because they’re simmering with lust and want.

  “Thank you for the drink.” Sinker.

  She acts a bit shy as she asks if she can join me. I nod, watching as she maneuvers into the booth in her too-short skirt, her tits practically spilling out of her top. Oh yeah, she’s exactly what I need tonight.

  “You’re welcome, Sugar.” I slide a bit closer to her, reaching up to toy with a lock of her hair. “I noticed you from across the room and had to buy the pretty girl a drink.”

  She giggles, blushing and lowering her eyes to her lap. I don’t buy into her shy act, not for a second. It’s not even necessary because we’ll both be getting what we want. I take a drink and swallow, licking my lips to catch a stray drop. Her eyes track the movement of my tongue.

  Smiling, I lean over to whisper in her ear. “You’re not as shy as you’d like me to believe, Sugar. You wouldn’t have come over if you were. Let’s cut the shit. You’re hot as fuck and I want you.”

  She pulls back, her face not hiding her shock.

  “Wow. You’re blunt.” She laughs.

  Chuckling, I respond, “I see no reason to pretend we don’t want the same thing. The sooner we get out of here, the quicker we both get what we’re after. Feel me?”

  Her smile widens, answering my question.

  “Then let’s go, Sugar.”

  I take her hand, helping her out of the booth, and lead her to the back entrance of the bar. We exit and ascend the stairs outside of the door.

  “Where are we going?” She asks but doesn’t hesitate to follow.

  “There’s an apartment above the bar.”

  I give her no other explanation. She doesn’t need to know I own the bar, or that I lived in the apartment while we did renovations. The apartment became a convenient place for us to crash occasionally when we had late nights. I’d never take a random girl to my home, so the apartment is extremely convenient right now.

  Unlocking the door, I lead her inside. As soon as the door closes, I have her pinned against it in the dark. I lean down, running my tongue up her slender neck. I’m already hard and I don’t want to wait, but she has to agree to a few things before this goes any further.

  I nibble her earlobe, and murmur into her ear, “Two rules. One night only. No kissing.”

  She moans softly, shivering as my breath blows across her sensitive skin.

  “Okay,” she agrees.

  “That’s all I needed to hear.”

  For the rest of the night, words aren’t needed.

  Morning brings misery. Pounding headache. Mouth feeling like something died in the desert. I fucking hate hangovers. I start to roll over when I realize I’m not in my bed and I’m not alone. I lift my head and open my eyes to find a naked redhead next to me.

  Groaning, I close my eyes and snippets of last night flash through my head. Jesus Christ. How much fucking whiskey did I drink?

  I glance at the girl again, noticing her ruined makeup and thoroughly fucked hair. I can’t remember everything, but I do remember that she had a good time. And I was right—the carpets did not match the drapes.

  I chuckle quietly, dragging my hands down my face before blowing out a hard breath. I swing my legs over the side of the bed, hearing a crinkle as my feet hit the floor. I look down to see an empty condom wrapper. Fucking hell.

  At least I was smart enough to wrap it up.

  I stand, making my way to the bathroom. I turn on the shower, then take a piss and brush my teeth before jumping in. I wash quickly, wrapping a towel around my waist when I finish.

  She’s still asleep when I exit the bathroom. Doesn’t look like she’s moved an inch. For the life of me, I can’t remember her name. I’m honestly not even sure if I asked for it. Not really an important detail, since I won’t be seeing her again.

  With one knee on the bed, I reach over to nudge her awake. “Wake up, Sugar.”

  She lets out a little groan, mumbling incoherently. Pretty sure I hear something about five minutes and going again, but I’m not positive.

  “I don’t think so. C’mon. Time to get up and go.”

  She must hear the annoyance lacing my tone because she rolls over and scoffs. “Seriously?”

  “Told you, Sugar. One night. Night’s over.”

  She shoots up off the bed, muttering under her breath as she gathers her clothes and shuts herself in the bathroom. I move to the closet, thankful for the extra clothes I keep here in case of emergency. I’d say this qualifies. I pull on a pair of boxer briefs and jeans. I’m slipping a t-shirt over my head when she comes out of the bathroom, fully dressed.

  The first thing I notice is that she washed her face. Shame. She’s so much prettier without all that shit she had covering it last night. One of the mysteries of women. I’ll never understand why they think they need makeup.

  I lean against the wall with my arms across my chest as I watch her slip on her heels and dig around in her bag for a minute. She turns to look at me, and just when I think she’s going to light into me for being an asshole—she surprises the fuck out of me.

  “Despite you being a serious dick this morning...I had a good time.”

  She slowly walks up in front of me, rests her hands on my waist, and leans in, but I quickly turn my head. The kiss lands on my cheek instead of my lips. I shoot her a glare when she pulls back.

  She shrugs, a casual smile on her face. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.” She slides her hand to my ass, slipping something into my back pocket. “Call me if you ever change the rules.”

  With that, she turns and lets herself out.

  Change the rules? Not fucking likely.

  I pull the slip of paper from my pocket, crumple into a ball without so much as a glance and throw it away. No need for that.

  I clean up the mess from last night before locking up and heading out. I hop in my truck, turn the key, and drive.

  Only one problem. I have absolutely no idea where to go from here.

  Bliss. That’s the only word I can use to describe the week we spent at the B&B. Locked away in private for seven days, giving all of our attention to each other. I felt closer to him than ever during those days. All the worries, doubt, and unease I felt before the wedding faded to nothing.

  We only left our room to eat and take an occasional walk around the grounds to explore the property. Beautiful, lush gardens. Trees, hundreds of years old. Sprawling green fields. It felt like our own little country paradise. We spent our time talking, flirting, and laughing together the way we did when we first met. For the first time, I finally felt like I’d truly moved on from my past.

  Too often, we found ourselves lost in each other, a tangled mess of love, lust, and limbs. Though I don’t know what prompted the change, I found myself thoroughly enjoying the new dominating, possessive side of David. Unfortunately, real life called, and we had to get back to it.

  We’ve been in our house for almost a week now. It’s a cute little rental house in a quiet neighborhood, but it’s perfect for our needs. We didn’t want to commit to buying a house until we had more time to settle into town and decide what we wanted. The rental is a single level with two bedrooms and two bathrooms. It gives us just a little room to grow. The best part is the spacious kitchen, perfect for a chef and a baker.

  David started his new job a few days ago, while I’ve taken the week to get the house settled. Grams expects me at the bakery on Monday and I’m excited to show her all of the new ideas I have. I don’t regret my decision to go to pastry school because I learned so many new things that can help the business.

  David has been working long hours at the restaurant, so we haven’t seen much of each other all week. He calls when he gets a chance, but it’s only ever a few minutes here and there. By the time he gets home at night, he’s so exhausted he falls right to sleep. I’m sure things will calm down once we’ve had time to settle into our new roles.

  I’ve been unpacking and organizing, trying to ma
ke the house look more like a home. We don’t have a lot between the two of us. Only what we had at school with us and a few of my things from my parents’ house. Our comfortable leather sectional and living room tables were a gift from my parents. Using money that we earned from working during school, we managed to buy the other necessary furniture, like a bed and dressers. Everything else can come later. Friends and family were extremely generous with wedding gifts, so most of the basics are covered; I’ve been making a list of any other necessities.

  My mom insisted we have a housewarming party this weekend. I was against it at first. It’s only been a week since the wedding, and I don’t want people to feel obligated to bring gifts. Mom wasn’t hearing any of that “nonsense,” so I caved and agreed to the party.

  Apparently, everyone wants to get to know my new husband. My family met him and spent a bit of time with him during their quick trips to visit me at school, but we never came to Blackwood. It would have been too hard to come back here. I wasn’t ready. I was happy—mostly—and moving on with my life. Always worried that coming back would only cause problems.

  Our first night in Blackwood only proved me right. I walked into what I thought was my brother’s bar and was completely blindsided.

  I didn’t expect to see Jaxson. I really didn’t expect him to confront me about the past right there in the middle of a crowded bar. He deserves answers, that much I do know, but it was hardly the time or place.

  I know my leaving hurt him. At the time, I thought I was doing the best thing for everyone. I was wrong. Seeing the pain in his eyes allowed all of my pain to come flooding back. the rush was a hundred times worse after seeing how much hurt I caused him.

  I was only nineteen. Still young, still immature in many ways.

  I saw a therapist while I was away at school. It wasn’t something I wanted to do, but Holden convinced me, and in the end—I’m glad I went. She helped me sort through the disaster in my head. She provided me with comfort, support, invaluable advice, and a judgement free place to let my skeletons out.

  My sessions with her allowed me to let go of the guilt and blame, but not entirely. She worked with me to pinpoint exactly why I made the choice to run rather than stay and face things head on. It all boils down to the fact that my head was completely fucked up and I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to make sound decisions.

  Mental anguish. Desperation. Depression. Self-loathing. Stubbornness. Hormones.

  They all played a role.

  Being back in Blackwood. Seeing Jaxson again. It’s bringing up old feelings and hurts. I thought I was past all of this, but now I’m not so sure.

  Part of my heart still belongs to Jaxson. Always will. Not that I’d admit that to anyone. It’s hard enough admitting it to myself, but I’ve belonged to him since I was a little girl, only nine years old.

  It was at one of my brother’s little league football games when I saw him for the first time. I was still in that “boys have cooties” stage, but I remember the way my heart beat harder in my chest. My palms got hot and sweaty. Butterflies took flight inside my belly. The way the blush rose on my cheeks when he smiled at me.

  I remember thinking he was the cutest boy I had ever seen.

  Jaxson was one of my brother’s teammates and they’d just won their game. His parents weren’t at the game, so mine insisted he join us for pizza to celebrate. He came home with us that day, and so many days after.

  He and Holden became good friends, but he became a friend to me, too. The boys never complained about me following them around and wanting to be close. As we got older, Jaxson paid more and more attention to me, and less attention to Holden. They were still friends, sure, but everyone knew how close we had gotten. Eventually, we were inseparable. There was no me without Jaxson.

  Over the years, our friendship naturally progressed into something more. I was sixteen the first time he kissed me. He was a few years older than me, so his age should have been a problem. It wasn’t. My parents knew and trusted him. They loved him like he was part of the family already.

  It’d be easy to look back and say that it was puppy love. To say that our relationship was too intense for people so young. I told myself so many lies in an effort to justify walking away. Deep down, I know the truth.

  I love Jaxson in a way where nothing else compares. And yes, I do still love him. I’ve come to terms with the fact that there will always be love for him in my heart.

  That doesn’t mean I don’t love David, because I do. It’s a different kind of love. Less intense. Less consuming. Safer.

  I’m ripped from my thoughts when I’m jerked violently, spinning to find myself chest-to-chest with my husband. He holds my upper arms in a bruising grip. I gasp, staring at him with wide eyes.

  “Where the fuck have you been all day, Madalyn?” He shouts in my face, spittle from his lips landing on my cheek.

  Shocked, and a bit afraid, I can barely speak. “I—I’ve been here.”

  “Don’t you dare fucking lie to me.” He spits the words with so much venom that my level of fear increases tenfold. I’m utterly terrified in this moment.

  Breathe in. Breathe out.

  “I’m not lying to you, David. I’ve been cleaning and unpacking all day. Look around.” My voice is small, a bit hesitant. Not like me at all.

  He looks around, taking in the empty boxes. “Then why haven’t you answered your phone? I’ve been calling you for hours!” Seeing the results of my efforts all day didn’t lessen his anger.

  “I didn’t hear it, I’m sorry. I don’t understand why you’re so angry.”

  He sneers, tightening his grip on my arms. “Of course you didn’t. Too busy spreading your legs for the bartender, I’m sure.”

  I gasp, reality setting in that he knows exactly who Jaxson is. It wasn’t exactly a secret, but I’m not sure how he found out. I can’t believe he thinks I would cheat on him. I try to step back, but his hold on me is too tight.

  Shaking my head vehemently, I tell him, “No, I wouldn’t. I love you, David. I’ve had the music up pretty loud. I was just finishing up so I could start cooking dinner, but I haven’t left the house all day.”

  I remain calm, pushing back my desire to argue and fight. I want to tell him that he’s full of shit and has no reason to accuse me of being unfaithful, but I can’t. That part of me is silenced by his dark, angry expression and vicious tone.

  “I saw you talking to that lowlife punk at the bar. Made plans with him, didn’t you? Wait until I start working to step out on me with your ex, huh? I’m not a stupid man, Madalyn. That’s why you wanted to move back to this shitty little town, isn’t it? You wanted a nice husband at home to take care of you while you whore around with your loser of an ex.”

  His grip tightens to the point of pain as I try to pull back again. “You’re hurting me, David.”

  He laughs, but it’s malicious, wrong.

  “I’m hurting you? How do you think it makes me feel to know that I married a whore?”

  I’m utterly speechless. I can’t fathom why he has this idea in his head. I don’t know what to say to make him see the truth.

  “Did you fuck him in our bed, Madalyn?” He thrusts me away from him, finally releasing my arms with a force that makes me hit the floor.

  “Did you? Answer me!” He snarls.

  I’m stunned.

  Who is this man? I can’t believe he’s acting like this. The feral look in his eyes sends a shiver of dread down my spine. The man standing in front of me is not the man I married. I’m staring at a stranger.

  Tears stream down my face. “No! I haven’t been with anyone else. Only you, David. Only you.”

  David’s backhand connects with my cheek, the crack of it like thunder in the air, the force causing my head to whip to the side. A fiery heat creeps across my face as the tears well in my eyes. My hand instantly goes to my cheek as I quickly scramble backwards across the floor. I need to get away from him.

  I watch him, waitin
g.

  His expression suddenly morphs into one of regret. He looks down at his hand in horror and confusion. He looks at it like it doesn’t belong to him.

  His gaze turns to me and he steps toward me, where I’m frozen in shock, my body curled up tightly against the wall. I wait silently. Still.

  Turning away from me, his eyes close tightly as he pulls at his hair. “Son of a bitch!”

  He turns back to face me, eyes clouded with regret.

  Kneeling on the floor in front of me at a distance, his gaze meets mine.

  “Baby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

  He moves closer to me, but I throw my arms out to stop him.

  “No, please.” I hate the quiver in my voice.

  It’s enough to stop him dead in his tracks. He squeezes his eyes shut again, his hands balled into fists at his sides. I fear him lashing out again.

  “Fuck!” He shouts, before lowering his voice. “I don’t know what came over me, baby. I’m sorry. Please.”

  He starts to move toward me again, but I shake my head. His head drops as he mutters apologies over and over. I don’t think I only react. Standing quickly, I run down the hall and lock myself in our bedroom. I sit on the bed near the headboard, knees to my chest as I stare at the door. Silent tears stream down my face as I wait. I hope he doesn’t follow me because I can’t look at him right now.

  I remain frozen in place. Watching. Waiting.

  I don’t let myself relax until I hear the front door close.

  I don’t know where he’s going, but I’m relieved that he left.

  I know he said he didn’t mean it, but that doesn’t change what happened. It doesn’t take away my fear.

  Is this the man I married? I’ve never seen even a hint of this side of him before.

  Is this what I have to look forward to for the rest of my life?

  Maybe I shouldn’t have ignored all of those gut feelings.

  Or maybe this is karma coming back around.

  (One week before the wedding)

  Rather than sit around my parents’ house, David and I decide to go out for a few hours. I’ve heard so much about my brother’s bar, I really want to go check it out. I’m happy he finally found something that he seems to really love.