Free Blindsided by Emma Hart Page A

me, Corey. That’s all it’s gonna be. Do you get that? I’m going crazy because I never know if what you’re saying is true. How do I know that everything you just said is the truth? For all I know, you say that to every girl.”
    “Jesus Christ.” I run my fingers through my hair and shake my head.
    “What? It’s the truth, isn’t it? How many times have you said a variation of that speech to a girl? How many times have you meant it?”
    “Hundreds!” I yell. “I’ve said it hundreds of damn times, but I’ve never meant it half as much as I do now.” My eyes crash into hers. “And now you need to do me a favor and shut the hell up so I can kiss you.”
    “You think I’m gonna let you kiss me now?”
    “Who said you had to let me? I’m gonna do it anyway.”
    I grab her back to me and crush my lips to hers. She tastes the same as yesterday, sweeter even, but this time, it’s hot. Hotter than before because I can feel the anger radiating off her, yet she’s not pushing me away. She’s tightly gripping my shirt and sinking her body into mine.
    My hand snakes into her hair, holding her face to mine, and I flick my tongue across her lips. She responds by nipping at my bottom lip. My cock hardens inside my shorts and presses into her stomach, and nothing is more tempting right now than pulling her shorts down and sinking inside her.
    “I still hate you,” she mutters, dipping her face away from me.
    I smile. “Yeah, your dislike is obvious.”
    “I’m not afraid to kick your ass.”
    “I wouldn’t. I’d probably like it.”
    She fails to hide her laugh and pushes away from me. Her hair is mussed where my hand has been, and her eyes are heavy, the way they were last night. She sighs and pulls her hair back from her face.
    “That wasn’t exactly how I envisioned this conversation going.”
    I follow her as she starts to run. “Babe, we haven’t had a single conversation that’s gone the way I’ve envisioned.”
    “That’s because your conversations don’t involve talking.” She glances over her shoulder at me.
    “They involve a type of conversation,” I hedge.
    “‘Oh, Corey!’ ‘Oh yes!’ and ‘Right there!’ do not make a conversation.”
    “There are plenty of other things said.”
    “I have no desire to learn what you say to the whores you pick up.”
    “I haven’t picked any ‘whores’ up since I met you.”
    “Yeah? So you went home alone the night of my birthday?”
    I don’t say a word.
    “Yeah. That’s what I thought. So take that last sentence and shove it up your ass, Corey Jackson. And”—she stops and turns to me outside my house—“when you respect me enough not to lie to me two minutes after kissing me, you can come and find me. Until then, go fuck yourself.”

    I knock on her door and wait. There’s no answer, so I push the bell. Shit. Two days of not talking to her and I’m done. I hate that she’s so mad at me.
    “Leah!” I yell, banging on the door again. “I know you’re home!”
    The door opens slowly and she peeks her face out. “What do you want?”
    “To talk to you. No, I mean it. Actually talk.” I put my foot in the door so she can’t close it.
    “I don’t trust you.”
    “Please. Five minutes. That’s all.” I grab the door. “I won’t even touch you.”
    Her blue eyes bore into mine for a few beats. “Fine.” She pulls the door open and lets me in.
    I follow her through to the kitchen. She pours a glass of orange juice and leans against the side.
    “Five minutes. Talk,” she demands.
    “I want to apologize,” I say quietly.
    “I’m sorry. Did you just say apologize ?”
    “Yeah. I was an asshole, and you didn’t deserve that. So…I’m sorry.” I’ve never apologized to a girl in my life, yet she’s had two. She’s fucking ruining me.
    “Well, apology accepted, I guess. Now you can leave.”
    The bell rings and she grabs the package on the table. I stand in the doorway as she signs something and hands it to