“Why didn’t you tell her…about me? Why didn’t you want her to know?” Clay asked a little more sharply than he intended. He had no idea why he got mad, but he was going to get to the bottom of it. If she was embarrassed by him, then fuck her.
Angela’s temper flared. “Well, who have you told?”
“That’s different,” Clay decided high-handedly. “I’m not a girl. Guys just don’t talk about this kind of shit. While on base the other guys talk about their girlfriends back home, or somebody they’re fucking on the side, but for the most part we talk baseball and missions. It’s just different.”
Angela looked away and out the window. “It’s not so different.”
Her unexpected silence threw him for a loop. What was she hiding? “What’s the real reason you didn’t tell her about me?”
Angela took a deep breath and looked back at him as she leaned against the wall behind his bed, the sheet clutched in her tight fists.
“I’ve wanted you for so long and I didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t want Mark to find out, because he would have gone all big brother on me and I didn’t want to have to explain myself to anyone. You sure as heck weren’t paying me any mind and if I never got to make lo— I mean have sex with you, then I didn’t want to have someone else’s pity to deal with either. Just my own would be plenty enough, knowing that you didn’t love me.”
Angela snapped her mouth shut and glanced at him nervously.
“I wish you would stop saying that word,” Clay barked. Why did it matter that she didn’t gossip about me with her friends, he added in his own head. He knew she thought she loved him, but why did it make the hair on the back of his neck stand on end when she said it out loud?
“What word? Love?” Angela asked with a bit of her own temper flaring in her voice.
“Yes, dammit, that one,” Clay remarked as he stood up and yanked his boxers on.
“Why does it irk you so bad? I’ve loved you for most of my life and you’ve known it for years, so why can’t I say it now? Just because you’re squeamish of the word?” Angela stood, stalked around the bed to find her panties that had been discarded the night before.
“How can you know that you love me, Angela? I’m the only one you’ve slept with. How do you know you won’t want someone else down the line?”
Clay stared at her as she found her panties and pulled them up her legs like they were shackles.
“Why would I when I’ve already found what I want, asshole? And what does fucking you last night have to do with it? I’ve known I loved you for years before last tonight,” Angela reminded him, full of exasperation. Even going so far as to roll her eyes and throw her hands into the air.
She was so sure of herself that it made him falter. Why wasn’t he as sure as she was?
“So what—you’re going to go and tell Mark that you want to be with me and just let the pieces fall where they may?” Clay challenged.
She didn’t respond for a second and Clay seized on the opportunity to point out the problems with her reasoning.
“He’s going to be so pissed that he’ll disown one or both of us. And what about your parents? Are you prepared to tell them you have loved me for years and force them to question every time I was in the house with you? Not to mention what do we do now? Are you going to graduate and then run away with me back to the base so we can play house? Are you going to throw your life away sitting in my apartment, twiddling your thumbs, waiting for me to come back? If I come back,” he added under his breath.
He let the last comment hang in the air. Angela’s temper flashed across her face and he thought she might take a swing at him.
“I don’t know what I’m going to say to Mark or Becca or my parents.” She jerked on her dress since it was the only thing she had to wear. He thought about offering her a T-shirt or something but knew she’d end up on her back, in his bed with her legs wrapped around his hips if he caught even a glimpse of her pretty pussy again. She fumbled with the zipper, and he stood mesmerized by her. She looked like an angry fairy. She was beautiful and fierce. She scared the hell out of him.
“But I want you. I don’t want to say goodbye.”
Clay ran his fingers through his hair and mumbled, “I knew I shouldn’t have done this.”
Angela’s hands fell lifeless to her sides. “What did you say?” she demanded with ice in her voice, as her eyes filled with tears.
Those had the desired effect, unbolting his feet from the floor as he stalked to the closet, yanked a T-shirt out and pulled it over his head. He remained at the closet door and said, “All I said is that I should have thought with the right head last night, before I threw us to the wolves this morning.”
Angela glared at him, her throat working frantically, as she fought not to cry. “There’s only one wolf here, and maybe I didn’t know him as well as I thought I did.” She raised her head a notch in defiance as she added, “I won’t make the same mistake again.”
Clay was glad she finally talked sensibly, but still wanted to deny the hurt he saw in her eyes. He knew this was for the best. What life could we have together? he wondered.
Angela pulled on her shoes. “I should take you home,” Clay stated with military efficiency when the silence continued.
She stood, swept past him and grabbed her cell phone, which was still on the counter in his bathroom. “Don’t bother. Becca should already be on the way to get me.”
Angela started down the stairs with Clay right behind her.
“I thought you didn’t tell her about me, so how is she coming to get you?”
Angela got to the bottom of the stairs and wheeled around on him.
“I had a feeling I was being a bit naïve thinking I was anything to you except a piece of ass.”
She stood there with her fists clenched, looking like she wanted to punch him, which he thought he probably deserved. He stood as still as a shadow, a million thoughts flying through his head, yet he wasn’t able to utter a single syllable. Yes, he had wanted her in his bed, but didn’t he want everything else, too?
“I see you don’t deny it,” she quipped and turned around, heading for the door.
Tears fell down her cheeks. He saw her wipe them away before grasping the door handle. Her shoulders finally fell and all the bravado she tried to show dissolved with her tears. She barely whispered, “Don’t worry. I won’t tell Mark or my parents or Becca…anything. You can act like last night didn’t happen, just like you want. I’m sorry I didn’t live up to your expectations. I won’t bother you again.”
Her voice broke as she finished speaking. He didn’t know it was going to hurt so bad, watching her walk away.
She was smart and beautiful. She’d get over him. She’d be better off without him dragging her down.
She opened the door and walked through it before he realized he was still standing on the bottom step, his feet dead weight beneath him.
He knew it was for the best.
Letting her leave.
So why did it feel like he just got kicked in the gut?
Clay heard a female voice outside, “Hey, Ang, oh God, are you okay?”
He turned around, meaning to head back upstairs as he heard a voice he didn’t recognize say, “I’m fine. Can you just take me home?”
Clay stood in the shower for a long time after he heard car doors slam and a vehicle drive off. He hoped the heat would penetrate the cold which had settled deep inside. He hadn’t realized that she’d made him warm until he stood beneath the spray of hot water, chilled to the bone. He was so tired of being cold.
He shook his head, clamping down on those thoughts before they could turn dangerous. He wasn’t good for her and he didn’t deserve her affection. She had sounded so different. What had he done to her? When he decided the water wasn’t going to wash off the feel of her in his arms, he turned it off
and roughly toweled his body dry.
He walked back in his bedroom and threw himself down on the bed. It was the worst thing he could have done. The sweet scent of her perfume filled his head. He remembered how she felt in his arms and how she tasted. A flash of her gasping for breath after her fourth or fifth orgasm ran across his mind like a video.
It assaulted him and nearly overwhelmed his resolve. He vowed never to bother her again. He would vacate the premises immediately and go back to base.
Leave over.
Chapter Fourteen
Angela fell asleep on the floor once her emotions were spent. She’d been high-strung for too long and just couldn’t fight the exhaustion any longer.
Her dreams were as vivid as if they’d been written in a book.
No faces could she remember, just voices. Her emotions felt as if they were being ripped out and sucked into a black hole. Lost forever.
Mark’s voice telling her she needed to be more careful as she yelled at him that he had let the wolf into her home, and he didn’t even know it. She knew he couldn’t hear her, even in her dream. She was alone, screaming at everyone, trying to make sense of her life as it fell apart.
Clay’s voice asking her for a chance and the thudding of her heart at his touch.
But she couldn’t find him.
He was lost in the darkness with the voice from her nightmares, the one that threatened her with its electronic cadence. It was somehow more chilling since it was so inhuman.
She woke up in a cold sweat, when the door banged downstairs.
Somehow she knew it was Clay, and feared the fact that she felt better simply because he was back.
But he was dangerous. She had to remember that. He hadn’t apologized for last time or made her feel as if she meant anything to him.
Damn her stupid heart for not learning the lesson the first time.
That morning after prom, the walk of shame to Becca’s car, with Becca casting concerned glances her way. She knew what she’d looked like, had caught sight of it in Clay’s bathroom mirror when she’d grabbed her cell phone. Raccoon eyes, brimming with tears, well-fucked hair, whisker marks on her neck and collarbone. She’d wanted nothing that morning but to crawl back in bed with him and make him love her. Everyone loved someone, right?
Everyone but superhuman out there, clomping back up the stairs.
Lying on the floor of her apartment, her heart finally calmed to something less than full panic and she sat up. Looking at the clock, she realized it was nearly four in the afternoon.
She struggled to her feet, dragging herself into the bathroom, knowing she had to get ready. Looking like warmed-over road kill wasn’t really the look for the event tonight. She’d settle for anything above awful so she could make an appearance, then come home and climb into bed, where she would stay until he vanished back into the realm of lost and hopefully forgotten.
A warm shower soothed her frazzled emotions and she shook off the dream and the fight, trying to get her head on straight before she had to face him again.
After she toweled herself off, she blow-dried her hair until it was shiny and warm down her back.
When she turned off the blow dryer she heard the phone ringing. She set the dryer on the counter and walked to the phone. She cleared her throat and picked up the receiver.
“Hey, Maddy.”
“Hey, Ang. Just wanted to make sure you didn’t want me at the dinner tonight. I could be ready in half an hour. Want me to come?” Maddy questioned brightly.
Maddy always sounded so happy. She was a breath of fresh air when Angela wanted nothing more than to forget the whole evening and go ahead and crawl into bed.
“Thanks for the offer. I’m just going to go take the dress that’s going to be auctioned off, schmooze for a couple hours and then come home. No need for you to spend your whole evening doing the same thing. What are you up to anyways, and please make me jealous?”
Maddy laughed. “Come on, you know me well enough to know that I’m already in comfies. I’m going to order some Chinese takeout and watch old movies on TV, and then I’ll probably try to eat my weight in ice cream. Same old, same old.”
Angela could hear Maddy’s smile over the phone.
Despite her bad mood, she smiled too.
“Yep, you did it, I’m jealous.”
She walked into the closet to figure out what she was going to wear when Maddy said, “Yup, it’s the ice cream part that always gets you. Sure you don’t want company?”
Angela thought about lying, but didn’t figure it would help. She’d know soon enough when work rolled around on Monday. “Actually someone is going with me.” She almost huffed at the end of the statement, but blew out a weary breath instead.
“Do you have a date, Ms. Meyers?” Maddy asked with something akin to giddiness on the other end of the phone.
“No,” she answered a bit too loudly. “He’s my security for the evening and the foreseeable future,” she added through clenched teeth. Her brother was so going to pay for this somehow.
“Oh,” Maddy answered, genuinely disappointed. “I was thinking you were actually going to have some juicy gossip on Monday for a change. Hearing about Jose’s conquests are fun but I was looking for some grade-A beef kind of stories if you catch my drift.”
“Please, you have guys asking you out all the time.”
“They’re okay, but nobody that really flips my lid, you know? Okay, no more stalling. I’ll let you go so you can finish getting ready. The dress you need for the auction is downstairs, hanging on the hook inside your office. Have a good time!”
“Thanks, Maddy. I’ll see you Monday.”
“Okay have fun, adios, amiga!” The line disconnected and Angela couldn’t help but smile again as she hung up the cordless.
She stared in her closet and quickly chose the dress she wanted to wear.
It was a floor-length, deep blue satin evening gown. It was one of her favorites and she hadn’t worn it in a long time. When she found the fabric it had reminded her of a midnight sky, full of stars. The dress had created itself over the next few days after everyone had gone home and the studio was quiet.
The lingerie she retrieved was thankfully free of dust, or she would have just thrown up her hands and admitted defeat.
She carefully lifted the dress over her head and let it slide down her body. It caressed her like a lover as the thin straps settled on her shoulders. She slid the zipper into place along her side and the dress hugged her body, plumping her cleavage front and center, along with the help of the strapless bra she’d matched with lacy black panties. The mirror showed her no panty lines as she turned this way and that.
At least she felt pretty. That was something. She needed all the courage she could muster, from every corner of her closet, if she expected to make it through an evening with Clay…without fighting.
She went back in the bathroom, did her makeup and wrapped her hair up at the back of her head and held it in place with hair sticks.
Her only jewelry was a watch, long, silver, dangly earrings that brushed her shoulders when she turned just right, and a thin silver Tiffany’s bracelet proclaiming what was eternally out of her reach.
Love.
She looked at the clock again. It was just a few minutes before six and she couldn’t put off the inevitable any longer.
Putting on her favorite silver Giuseppe Zanotti heels made her feel like Cinderella going to the ball. She grabbed her matching silver clutch, throwing her ID and some lipstick inside before making her way into the living room, where there was no sign of Clay.
Yes, she thought about sneaking downstairs past his room and going on her own, but then she’d have to deal with Clay and her brother yelling at her later.
Her shoes slapped the wood floor as she walked to the second guest room door and knocked.
<
br /> She could hear Clay inside, and a moment later he opened the door and stood in front of her dressed in a tailor-made tux.
Her mouth went dry and she swallowed back a sigh as she noted how wide his shoulders were. The black pants accentuated his trim waist and his tanned skinned glowed against the silk of the fabric.
“Are you ready?” she managed as she took a step away from the door.
“Yes,” was all he said as he stepped farther into the room and grabbed some type of handgun. Probably the same one he’d had with him that morning as he prepared to ride to her rescue and save her from the world.
He popped the cartridge out, checked something she didn’t comprehend and then slid it back in place like she did her dress. Funny what they each needed to feel good.
He opened his jacket and slid the gun into a shoulder holster that was already strapped on. After refastening his coat, he turned to find her staring at him. She averted her eyes quickly, knowing he could read her too well already. Her heart had always shown through her eyes, her dad had told her for years. No point in going over ancient history anymore.
They’d been mad at each other for hours after their argument earlier in the day, and she expected tense silence for the remainder of the evening. That was how he’d always acted when he was younger. Instead he asked, “What?” when he saw her staring at him again.
She smiled shyly. “We’ve both changed.”
He closed the distance between them, but refrained from touching her. Her fingers tingled to close the gap between them, to feel the warmth of his cheek.
“Yes.”
He closed the door as Angela turned to make her way to the stairs.
She’d almost reached them when the phone rang again. She expected a call from Mark when he arrived home, so she ran to the living room and picked up the phone on the third ring.
She saw Clay waiting at the top of the stairs, looking at his watch, as she brightly said, “Hey, Mark?”
“No, Angela,” an electronic voice answered on the other end of the line.
Angela froze as a wave of nausea hit her like a brick wall.
Final Surrender: The Surrender Series, Book 1 Page 13