But Kyle arches an eyebrow at me and I wonder how he knows. “Okay, I do sleep naked, but it’s not like that,” I say, feeling my cheeks burn. “And how did you know?” I ask, looking up at him quickly form my plate.
“I didn’t,” He says, taking a second to pop a bite of fish in his mouth before giving me a startlingly white flash of a smile. He’s so devilish I’m amused.
“Tricky, tricky,” I mutter. It is odd that the worry hadn’t ever crossed my mind. “I don’t know,” I muse aloud as I eat. “I mean, you’re not a threat. If you were going to rape me, you’d have done it already. I haven’t even locked the door since I’ve been here.”
“Don’t ever leave that door unlocked,” He says, and I look up at him in surprise. He’s watching me, that intense blue stare surprising.
“Why?” I ask, wondering why it’s such a big deal. But it seems like it’s a big deal to Kyle, so it’s a big deal to me.
“Because I worry about you,” he says and my heart melts.
Damn it, why does he have to be so incredibly sexy? And such a good kisser… I glance at his lips, loving the shape of them. They’re a bit thin, slightly cruel, but so very sexy. And his kiss… he’d tasted like wicked freedom, like crossed lines and danger. Everything about it had been amazing.
I realize he’s studying me with as much intensity as I’m watching him. “Are you thinking about kissing me again?” I ask, weakly teasing even as it feels like my breath is impossible to catch. My heart is hammering my chest and I feel lightheaded as he shakes his head.
“I was thinking about so much more than kissing you,” he says, his voice so low it’s more like a growl.
Chapter 20
Kyle
I open my eyes, remembering how the night ended with a smile. Everything about Victoria seems to light up every nerve ending in my body. I’m even dreaming about her. It’s sheer insanity.
She’d loved talking about work, she’d loved talking about her day, she’d loved dinner, I couldn’t imagine a more perfect evening. Even now, the thought of going back to coming home to just Jax makes my chest ache like someone smashed a sledgehammer into my ribs and crushed my chest cavity.
It’s agony.
I hear a sigh behind me and my smile widens. Things are just weird. Everything has changed so much in only a little over a week. And even more stranger; it’s hard to remember how I lived my life before. All I can think about is now. It’s like life before Victoria didn’t exist.
I roll over in bed. And am met by a warm, wet tongue covering my nose and mouth in a layer of saliva.
“Damn it Jax,” I say, pushing him away. He begins to give me that little howl that tells me I over slept while standing up like he’s going to jump on me in a playful – and slimy, drool-filled - attack.
I get out of bed and pull on some clean clothes. Jax bounces around my feet like some happy, insane artic fox diving in the snow for mice.
“Okay, okay,” I tell him, leaving my room. I spot Victoria in the kitchen. She offers me a glass and I thank her for making breakfast. She’s gotten used to my routine of smoothies for breakfast and she’s getting better at deciding what flavors go and which ones don’t.
I have to admit, a chia seed lemonade smoothie might be the weirdest thing I ever put in my mouth. But she’s got it down now, I think, and there’s still that experimental nature in her personality that I find endearing.
I take a sip, enjoying the burst of flavors. With Jax on my heels, I open the back door and he rushes out right to his favorite bush.
“I was going to let him out this morning when I got up, but he ran right to your room,” she says, mischief in her pretty brown eyes.
“Yeah, he decided to bathe my face for me,” I say, remembering that I wanted to go wash the gross off. I set my glass down and head to the kitchen sink to rub some antibacterial soap on the spots he’d licked.
“Aww, don’t wash it off,” she says, her voice coming from very near my elbow. “It’s his way of saying he loves you.”
“Is that why he licks his balls and butthole?” I ask, amused by her line of thinking. “I don’t want all that on my face.”
She giggles and I rinse my face off. Her fingers touch my cheek and wipe off a bit of soap I missed. “Here,” she says, her voice husky as I run the water over my skin where she touched. She moves to the other side and touches my cheekbone and temple. “Here,” she says again, this time her voice barely more than a whisper.
My body, seriously turned on by her touches, begs me to touch her. It had taken every last bit of strength I had last night to walk away, to not give her what her eyes had been begging me for. And I wanted to. With every ounce of my being, I wanted to take everything she was silently offering.
But I’m already in too deep.
I dry my face off and look at her over the towel. She’s studying me, her face alight with wonder. “Thank you for breakfast,” I say, unable to keep my hands to myself. I pull her in close and press my lips to hers. And it feels as natural as breathing to have her here, this close, her lips moving under mine like she can’t get enough.
How did everything come to this? How did we go from strangers who didn’t really like one another to this feeling I have of needing her?
“Thank you for desert,” she says, her breath cooling my damp lips. Her lips taste sweeter than the smoothie she’d made me this morning, and more like home than this kitchen feels.
And everything in me hits the brakes. I need to stop this. I need to remember she’s going to be walking away in a few weeks. I can’t have this complication in my life.
Jax rushes back in, his tail beating at our legs as he winds around Victoria. She releases me to kneel and give him loves. “Feel better, mister?” she asks him and he gives her his little husky howl that communicates his pleasure.
“I bet you do!” She scratches him behind the ears and he tucks his chin to his chest to give her better access. When she looks back up at me from this kneeling position, my body instantly snaps back to attention. Fuck. Why does this keep happening?
“What are your plans today?” she asks, her gaze darting to my cock before back up to mine with more than a hint of shock.
I want her so bad.
“I need to get out of here,” I say, backing off a step. It’s leave or do something we both might regret.
She’s quick to get to her feet, a look of worry twisting her pretty face. “Want me to come with?” She asks, and I shake my head.
Some time alone will do me good. It’ll remind me how things were before her. It’ll be the conformation I need that I can go back to being alone once she picks up and moves on with her life and her healed dog. Because she will. She’ll live her life with Sentinel, and I’ll be here with Jax.
“What did I miss?” she asks, wiping her palms on her jeans. There’s a look of panic in her face and I know I need to talk her down.
Or do I?
Maybe instead of being a nice guy, I need to go back to being the man she thought I was at first. The asshole. I never should have stopped being that man. Because the look in her eyes hurts more than her leaving will.
So I opt for truth, without regard to her feelings. Like the Kyle I am, not the Kyle she thinks I am. “I can’t do this anymore,” I say, gesturing to the space between us. “I need to get away from this. From you,” I clarify.
Chapter 21
Victoria
It feels like my heart is being squeezed in a vice; I can’t breathe through the agony combusting in my chest. Of course he needs to get away from me. But more than hurt, anger rises up in me.
“I knew it,” I say, my accusing voice hardly more than a whisper. “I knew you were an asshole.” The anger within struggles against my ability to reason and I turn and walk away from him.
“Sentinel!” I say sharply. He gets up from his bed, his eyes questioning. He falls into step beside me as I open the sliding glass door and head toward the mother in law. My eyes are filled with stinging, hot tears, but
it only makes me more mad.
He doesn’t want to do this anymore? Fine. I’ll stay out here until we can leave.
But the thought of leaving fells wrong. I feel like I belong here, like I could start a good life here, with him. I’m so stupid. Of course he wouldn’t want me. I’m so fucking broken no one will ever want me. I don’t deserve love or happiness.
Especially from someone like Kyle.
God, I’m so fucking weak! Why did I let myself get in so deep with him? Why did I let myself start to have feelings for someone who showed me his true colors the first time I met him? So what if he’s been playing nice now, he hated me when we met. He thought I was weak. He thought I was annoying and there to ruin his good time.
Hell, he’d been cruel. He’d told me to watch where I was going. When I’d confided that I don’t usually come in stores without my service dog, he’d been so condescending when he’d said okay. He’d said it like he actually wanted to ask my why the fuck I was telling him something like that.
And when he’d offered me help? Of course he’d just said it out of a sense of obligation. He hadn’t actually wanted to help. He hadn’t cared that I was in a bad place, that my panic was starting to shift into full gear. He’d wanted to shut me up and move me along while still not feeling like a total waste of a human being.
That’s who Kyle is. The one who wants to feel good about himself while not doing anything good unless it’s in his best interest.
Even saving Sentinel had been self-serving.
He loves animals. He couldn’t, in good conscious, not help. It had absolutely zero to do with me, or my feelings, or how I’d manage to live if I lost my dog. He did it because he loves animals and one was suffering in front of him.
But doesn’t that negate everything? I wonder.
If he’s willing to do something kind like that without hope of compensation for something weaker than himself – an injured animal – doesn’t that means he’s being selfless? He’s helping something that can never even thank him, so he’s not doing it for what he can get out of it.
I struggle over whether or not that makes him a good person or a selfish one for a moment.
Sentinel whimpers at me and I realize my purse is on the nightstand of my bedroom. “Sentinel, purse,” I say, feeling how hard it is to suck in a deep breath. It’s been over a week since my last attack.
Sentinel takes out into my room and I hear him whining softly as he moves. I know his stitches have been bothering him, but I assume it’s normal. Though Kyle didn’t check him this morning, he’d been too busy washing his face.
But Sentinel is fine, I’m sure. He hasn’t been playing hard or anything. He’s been being a good boy.
I hear the clicking of his nails on the wood floors before he comes back into sight with my purse. I sink to the floor and take out the meds, hating how hard my hands are shaking. But it’s better this heartbreak happen now than later. At least this is happening before I fall totally, irrevocably in love with him.
Or is it?
Fumbling with the bottle, I spill the pills on the floor. They scatter and bounce away like gritty pearls. I begin to gather them up, popping two in my mouth as I struggle to grab them with flawed depth perception and blurred vision.
Breathe.
My chest aches as I wait for the meds to kick in. Tilting my head back against the wall, I hear my own words in my ears.
You’re allowed to be angry. No matter what happened, or how. Your emotions have validity.
And the pain in my chest begins to ease a bit. He was rude, cruel even, by telling me he wanted to get away from me. I’m allowed to be mad at him. My anger is valid, what he did was rude. But it was also his right to say it.
My lungs loosen a little and I draw in a deep breath.
But why?
The question surprises me.
Why did he tell me that?
Well, I could sit here and guess, or I could go ask him. Maybe not right now, but later. Once we’ve both had some time to cool off. Because running away and letting all of this go by thinking he’s just an asshole is one way I can handle this.
Or I can be an adult. I can ask questions. I can try to find the way rather than just accepting this is how things are now.
The scared Victoria who ran away from home wouldn’t have asked questions. She wouldn’t have investigated the problem. She wouldn’t have decided the reasons were more important than the problem.
But I don’t want to react based on anger anymore. Or fear. Or by emotion, period. I want answers. I want to understand his reasoning. And it’ll be scary to confront him, because maybe he won’t be willing to have a conversation. But I’ll feel better if I do this. And that’s important.
Without risk there’s no growth.
With decidedly steadier hands, I pick up the pills and put them back in the bottle.
Chapter 22
Kyle
The hurt in her eyes as she called me an asshole and turned to leave is forever burned into my thoughts. Fuck. I didn’t think things would get this messy. I wish I’d put her up in a hotel in town rather than my home. Hell, I wish I’d never met her. That I’d walked away that day.
No, no I don’t. But this shit sucks.
But whatever idiot said that it’s better to have loved and lost than never loved at all got it all wrong.
I head back to my room to start packing, trying to figure out what to do. I could go stay in town. I mean, I doubt she’s going to clean my house out. She’s had chances. But I don’t feel like she’s a threat.
Not to my stuff, at least.
Mid packing, I hear my phone ring and stop to answer it. It’s Em. “I wanted to let you know the mare is doing well,” she said, her voice light and happy. Way happier than it had been before Kieran came into her life.
“Thanks,” I say, my tone as flat as I feel.
“What did you do?” she asks, and I hear her disproval.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, wondering what she’s accusing me of now.
I hear her sigh on the other end of the line. “I can hear it in your voice. You did something stupid. You didn’t hurt Victoria, did you?” Her tone shifts to anger.
I say nothing, but that doesn’t help.
“Kyle,” she says, her tone sharp. “You fix it right now.”
“Why?” I say, suddenly angry that she’s taking Victoria’s side without even knowing what’s going on. “Look, she’s going to move on with her life. And when she does, I’ll be standing here alone.”
There’s a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. “You love her, don’t you?” Em asks.
“No.” The clipped answer is too quick, I know it.
And Em isn’t buying it. “Oh, Kyle, you really have to fix it. Tell her how you feel.”
“No, Em. I’m not going to ask her to live her life around me. She’ll leave when she wants to.” I’m not going to try to guilt her into staying with me because I was too stupid to keep myself guarded around her.
Somehow, she worked her way under my skin, and I let her.
But Emma isn’t letting go. Like a dog with a bone, she starts playing with me. “I’m so glad! She’s such a sweet girl. If you don’t fix this, I’ll get involved, and trust me,” she says with an un-lady like snort, “That’ll be way more humiliating than telling her you’re sorry for whatever shitty thing you said to her.”
“You’re not going to do anything,” I tell her. I don’t need Emma to get involved in my life. I don’t need her to try to shoulder her way in now.
“Oh, come on,” Em says, her voice lighthearted. “I love her. You love her. I bet she loves you. Can you just swallow your pride for once and tell her you love her?”
“No, Emma,” I say, anger filling me at her pushing. “I won’t tell her I love her. Because it’s not fair of me to expect her to live her life around me. She left to get a fresh start, not to be bound to the first guy she met.”
This time, th
e sharp intake of breath comes from behind me and I turn to see Victoria studying me, her brown eyes wide and shocked.
“God damn it,” I say, hanging up on Emma.
“That’s why you did it,” She says, her voice a startled whisper. “Because you want to save me from myself. Or you. Whatever.” Her face goes puzzled a moment before settling back into a place of knowing.
“Don’t read too much into it,” I say, my anger shifting to her. “I was just trying to get Emma off my back.”
To my surprise, Victoria shakes her head. “Nope,” she says, her light brown hair swishing around her shoulders. “You were telling the truth. Now you’re lying to me. To protect me, I think.”
She turns around, her voice flowing back to me. “Why don’t you let me make my own choices?”
I follow her out into the living room. “Why don’t you let me make mine?” I say and she turns around, her expression shadowed by sadness.
“Don’t do this,” she says, her eyes slashing back and forth between mine.
“What? Tell you how I really feel?” I ask, leaning back on the counter as I prepare to break her heart into as many shards as I can.
“But it’s not how you really feel,” she says, her expression troubled.
Part of me feels bad for lying to her, but most of me is still sure I’m doing the right thing. She needs to move on, and not settle for the first person who is kind to her. I’m not her knight in shining armor. I’m not the prince charming that’ll make her dreams of love and romance come true.
I’m just another monster wearing sheep’s clothing. “Oh, sweets,” I say, packing the word with as much venom as I can, “I can’t wait for your dog to be healed enough for you to get the fuck out of my house and let me get back to fucking women and sending them on their way in the morning.”
Her eyes widen.
“That’s right, princess. I don’t even generally call them again… unless they were amazing in the sack and I decide I want to fuck them again.” As I speak, I see her shudder. Her repulsion is exactly what I’m going for. I bet she’s a damn virgin. A sweet, delicate thing unable to even handle the thought of a man fucking lusty bitches.
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