He tries to maneuver his large, lean body past me. “I told you I only want to apologize.”
I block his path, slamming my hand into the wall in front of his chest and look him dead in the eyes. “And I told you to give him a minute. Test me and I’ll make it so you never see your precious Monique again. Understand?”
Do I look like I’m playing? Do I look like I’m stopping him from going upstairs for fun?
No.
And I swear to God I will cut a bitch if he tries to push past me.
Our eyes remain locked. His eyes swimming with scenarios, analyzing different ways to get past me without shoving me to the side. A small eternity passes before he allows his body to slump, relaxing the ropes of muscle in his torso.
“Fine. Have it your way.”
He slinks away, strolling slowly down the hall to his room, guilt and sadness heavy in his steps.
Thank God for that. I exhale and relax my own muscles as I place both hands on my hips. At this point, I’m kind of glad I’m on my own. Outside of myself, there’s no external pressures on me. I do what I want when I want and it doesn’t affect anyone else.
Turning, I bound up the stairs, unable to shake the need to comfort Jai. One by one my conscious mind slips memories to the front of my mind—vivid memories of all the times I denied anyone comfort, choosing to treat them like a leper instead of a friend.
You’ve never wanted to comfort anyone before—not even Holli Peterson when her husband died—and she was the only one who spoke to you when you were trying to become a nurse. Maybe you’re falling in lo —
I gulp, gripping the thin, wooden banister in my hand.
Maybe I should WebMD the symptoms I’m having. I trust the experts on that site will squash my fears of the dreaded ‘L’ bug, diagnosing the way my heart pounds and my head spins as some kind of life threatening bowel issue.
That I can handle.
It’s not that I don’t want to fall in love, the thought of it is nice, it’s just…the attachment.
I can’t handle the attachment.
I know, deep down, I’m someone who can get a little too attached and, because I’ve kept it at bay for so long, what if it’s too much?
What if he crushes my fragile heart under the heavy heel of his boot?
Then what?
Five
****
Sweet Seventeen
Jai
In the darkness, my eyes flutter open and I turn my head toward the window, but there’s no light. How long have I been up here? Seventeen hours, at least. What time is it? I blink, straightening my head to look up at the ceiling. Fuck, my mouth hurts. I run my tongue over the split, tasting the lingering hints of cream Emily rubbed into my lip. Her head is heavy on my chest, her arms draped over my ribs. Her skin is warmer than mine, her heart beating at a relaxed pace against my side. In the silence, I hear her stomach rumble. Her food intake today was practically non-existent because she preferred to sit here and watch me sulk all day. In those moments of concern and comfort, when she lets her guard down, I feel like she cares about me the way I care about her. I feel like a future with her is possible. Who would have thought that I went to the darkest depths of hell and found an angel? I’ve never been a firm believer in fate, but the circumstances on which we met are too strange to rule as a coincidence.
She is my person...and I fucking love her. I love her so much it makes me sick and, as luck would have it, the only girl I’ve ever loved will never accept it because she doesn’t think she’s worthy of love.
Just. My. Damn. Luck.
Love doesn’t discriminate. Love is pure, an accumulation of all the good feelings and none of the bad. Good luck trying to convince her of that though. It’s like flogging a dead horse. Is that the saying?
Karma is an asshole. I bet she’s enjoying this. All those girls I parted ways with because I didn’t feel the same...and now I’m the idiot who has fallen head over heels for someone who can’t bring herself to return it.
Reaching out, I press the button on the top of the alarm clock and a bright blue light lights up the room, burning my eyes. Squinting, I try to work out the numbers. Three. Five. Seven. I blow out an exhale. Four o’clock in the morning and I’m awake...now what?
I glance at Emily’s sleeping face, resting peacefully on my chest. I love the light spattering of caramel freckles that flow from one of her cheeks to the other. I love the darkness of her hair and the curve in her top lip. I love her height, her milky complexion, and the rise of her breasts.
The light from the clock shuts off, darkening the room.
Fuck Skull for threatening to take her from me. I’ll kill him for it.
I shut my eyes in an attempt to put myself back to sleep, but thought after thought flicks by—my thought train too erratic to ignore now—and that’s when I hear the handle on the bedroom door creak. I inhale through my nose, calming the sudden spike in my pulse and lessening the adrenaline that leaks into my blood. Slowly, I reach between the bed and the bedside table. The tips of my fingers slide against the handle of my handgun and slip into place, my index finger firm against the trigger. Gently, I lift it, ready to shoot at a moment’s notice.
“Jai?”
Joel? I lower the gun, feeling stupid for reaching for it in the first place. If Skull knew where we were, he’d make a show of it. He wouldn’t sneak into my bedroom at four in the morning.
“You awake?” He whispers through the darkness.
My pulse returns to normal as my lungs regulate the oxygen a little better and I run my warm palm over my face.
“Yeah.”
“Can we talk?”
I ponder it. Now that yesterday’s drama has worn off I feel stupid for pumping myself up. I shouldn’t have stormed out like a child. I shouldn’t have punched the tree or antagonized Joel. I’ll be the first to admit that.
Last night, Emily told me I should accept the fact Joel has changed and that I should honor his relationship with Monique. I guess if he’s willing to die for her that makes her family too. I’ll give him one more chance to justify breaking in to Skull’s home to save her.
One.
I exhale. “I’ll be down in five.”
He closes the door and Emily stirs.
“If that was your brother I’m going to kick his ass.” She mutters, her voice husky with sleep.
She lifts her head off my chest and drops it onto her pillow. I smile, rolling onto my side and draping my arm over her waist.
“You’d fight my brother for me?”
Her warm, soft hand snakes up my stomach, making my muscles clench under her gentle touch.
“For you? Yeah.”
I lean in close, until my nose touches hers. “I think I can handle it.”
“Don’t go.” She whispers, sliding my hand from her waist to her naked breast. “We have better things to do.”
Angling her head, she raises it and I kiss her mouth, stroking the side of her face with my finger. “Sleep. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Without protest, she frees my hand and rolls over, tucking her arms under her pillow.
I exhale again, disappointed I have to get out of my warm bed and sit in the cold air to have the same discussions I’ve already had with Joel. Will it end the same?
Eventually, I manage to drag myself out of bed. I swipe at my blurry eyes as I bend down and scoop up my thick, gray sweatpants. As quietly as I can, I slip into them and chuck on a hoodie before exiting the room and descending the wooden stairs with heavy feet.
In the kitchen, Joel is sitting on the bench, his socked feet resting on one of the stools. From the kitchen, I can see into the sitting room where Huss and Ted are passed out, one on each couch, their snores vibrating the wood underneath my feet.
“It’s no wonder you can’t sleep.” I say, sauntering up to the kitchen bench.
Letting a soft smile curve his lips, Joel nods and pushes an empty glass in my direction.