“You’re up early,” she wheezed as she stepped off the machine, wondering if her breathlessness came from exertion or the fact that Billy looked so dang good that her lungs had seized up.
Erm…probably the second. Because she ran seven miles a day, five days a week, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d lost her breath while doing it.
Chastising herself for being a complete man-hungry ninny when it came to Billy and his miles of tan, tattooed muscles, she wiped the towel over her face and forced herself to drag in a steadying breath. The smell of the bleach the towel had been washed in combined with the aromas of the gym’s astringent cleaning products and good, healthy, male sweat to ground her. Sort of. That is until her gaze once more landed on Billy.
Oh, good gracious. Today he was wearing baggy sweat pants slung low around his ultra-trim waist and a tight white tank top that emphasized the hulking muscles in his shoulders and just happened to showcase the colorful star tattoos cascading down his sculpted arms.
Her eyes were drawn to the red and blue ink, to the fierce points of each wickedly perfect beacon of patriotism. She wondered idly if the individual stars represented something. But the thought was fleeting, because she was distracted by the sea of testosterone surrounding Billy. The sea of testosterone that made her want to do something incredibly foolish like, oh, say, don snorkel gear and dive right in. Then again, before she could do that, she needed to figure out exactly what last night’s kiss meant. If she could just drum up the courage, that is.
Come on, Eve. Stop being a wuss. Oh God, her heart was pounding a mile a minute.
“I like to get in a workout before the chaos of the day begins,” Billy said in answer to her incredibly lame—insert eye roll here—you’re up early. Geez, whoever it was who’d recently complimented her for being articulate should obviously go in for a CT scan. Because when it came to Billy, her vocabulary shrank to double and most times single syllable words.
Like, for instance, right now? Well, right now, as she watched him push away from the doorjamb, the only word she could seem to come up with was yum.
Her eyes devoured him as he sauntered over to a weight bench. Lowering himself, he bent to tighten the laces on his worn sneakers. Which is when she realized not only was her stomach quivering from the mere sight of him, but her hands were also shaking with fear. And dangit, a large part of her wanted to turn tail and run. Just skedaddle right on out of the outbuilding that served as BKI’s home gymnasium and avoid any morning-after conversations. Because what if he told her that kiss meant nothing? Or worse, that it meant the end of everything…
But, no. That was the old Eve, the timid, little rabbit Eve. The new Eve? Well, the new Eve gnawed on her lip for a good two-second count before blurting, “You kissed me last night.”
Okay, and that came out sounding more like an accusation than a question. Curses.
Billy planted his forearms on his thighs, letting his head hang between his shoulders and his big, lovely hands dangle between his legs. He was silent for a seemingly interminable moment during which time she was afraid her pounding heart might just leap right out of her chest. Then, he lifted those lovely eyes of his to her face, and his expression was…what?
Embarrassed? Wry? Self-deprecating?
She couldn’t tell. Oh, why couldn’t she tell?
“Guess there’s no way to un-ring that bell, huh?” he muttered, lips twisting, and all the hope that’d been expanding in her chest burst. She was surprised a loud pop didn’t echo around the room.
The urge to run was more powerful than ever. But she held her ground, lifting her chin. “Would you…” She licked her lips and swallowed…her pride, perhaps? “Would you want to un-ring it?”
He made a face. “Maybe,” he said. Then, “Probably.”
Well, a girl couldn’t fault the guy for being honest.
“Oh,” she murmured, trying very hard to keep her shoulders from drooping and her lower lip from quivering.
“I went up to your room last night to attempt to give you a little comfort after your hellacious last couple of months and to tell you that I’m done holding grudges about the past. But the urge to kiss you overcame me, probably something to do with old habits or bad instincts, and I wrongly acted on it. I’m sorry about that. It won’t happen again.”
But what if she wanted it to happen again? She opened her mouth to admit as much—talk about swallowing her pride—when his expression stopped her cold. She knew a wall when she ran into it, face-first.
He might be ready to try to forgive her for the past. But from the look of things, he wasn’t ready, he’d never be ready, to start something new. There was just too much history there. Too many grievances and too much distrust…
She wanted to sit down and scream. Scream at herself for having been so disloyal and cowardly. Scream at her father for pushing her away from a good man and into the arms of a manipulative one. Just scream, scream, scream! But, the time for self-pity and blame was gone. Now she needed to do the right thing, the brave thing and offer Bill the apology that’d been a long time coming. Too long…
“Since we’re…uh…since we’re baring our souls here,” she began hesitantly, “I-I want to tell you I’m sorry for the way I behaved all those years ago.”
“You were young,” he said. And considering all the times she’d hoped to see a little compassion shining out at her from the depths of his warm, brown eyes, the fact that she was seeing it now should’ve brought her more comfort. Instead, it only made her grief and regret burn brighter, hotter. Tears scorched at the back of her throat.
“That’s no excuse,” she admitted, staring down at her Asics.
“We were both young. And it takes two to make an accident,” he quoted quietly, and her gaze shot up to his face.
“The Great Gatsby?” she asked, lower lip trembling—dang the thing! “That’s…that’s one of my favorites.”
“I remember.” His voice was gruff. And it was then, because of the unspoken look in his eyes, that she wondered if maybe he’d taken to reading books, the classics in particular, to please her. Because when they’d dated that summer, reading the classics had been her thing.
Oh, God! Why had she agreed to go out with Blake Parish? Why hadn’t she told her father to go jump in a lake when he kept harping on her to forget about Billy and give Blake a chance? And why hadn’t she been brave enough to hop on a plane to go see Billy after the misleading photos and articles had been printed in the papers? Why had she relied on those stupid, impersonal letters that probably hadn’t accurately portrayed her regret or remorse? Why hadn’t she been courageous enough to explain everything to him face-to-face? Perhaps if she had, he would’ve forgiven her then and everything would be different now…
But hindsight, as they say, is 20/20. And there was no going back. Now all she could do was move forward, no matter how painful it might prove to be.
“I am sorry,” she said again, her heart a clenched fist in her chest.
“I know you are.” He nodded, his smile gentle.
God, that smile killed her. “I’d like to explain what happened. I think you deserve…I don’t know…more than what I gave you. I think you deserve to hear—”
“And I would like to hear what you’ve got to say,” he said, cutting her off. “But not now.” She couldn’t help it, the muscles in her shoulders loosened, and she dragged in a tired sigh. “First, let’s figure out who’s behind these attacks on you. Let’s get you safe and secure before we sit down for a heart-to-heart, okay? That way there’ll be no distractions.”