Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Only because I had no intention of being honest about who he’d met up with in the darkness didn’t mean I enjoyed lying to him. It was why I wanted the whole subject, and everything related to it, to just die.
“The Warehouse,” I responded. “That club in Camden.” There. The words were out there. And now I needed a smoke again. I withdrew from his embrace and sat up properly to roll down the window.
“I see.”
That was it? Fuck. He had to say more than that. Like, “Well, I’m glad nobody got hurt.” It would’ve been easier to fly off on that tangent and put distance between us and the, uh, scene of the anonymous screwing.
I drained my Coke and tossed the bottle in the trash bag by my feet, then lit my cigarette.
It was the worst situation in which to leave things unsaid, because we were kind of together now, and him having a sexual arrangement was a potentially sensitive topic in a new relationship. Even more so in one without labels. We hadn’t discussed any of that. The opposite—we’d made it clear that we weren’t going to rush any discussions.
The problem was, I had to say something.
He knew of my tendency to be territorial, so it would be completely out of character if I didn’t at least make a comment about my unwillingness to share what was mine.
Fuck.
I rubbed the back of my neck and blew some smoke out the window.
Shan cleared his throat, and the low sound came so unexpectedly that I whipped my head his way and felt my eyes widen. Was he going to say something?
“You can tell your friend that I got rid of the burner before we left Philly.”
Holy fuck.
“The way I figure…” he went on. “I don’t need two numbers to reach you.”
Oh my God.
No.
This wasn’t happening.
My heart pounded so hard I swore I could hear it in my head.
“How long have you known?” I croaked.
He hummed. “I knew for certain after our first night together in Spain.”
And? Was he mad? Was he hurt? He’d let me pretend. He’d pretended too. He didn’t hate me then, right? He couldn’t.
My mind went back to our first night, and I thought about some of the things he’d said. But…hadn’t that just been about my flirting? Was there something else?
“I’ve fought this, you know.”
“Admit you’ve taunted me.”
“You’ve fucked with my head.”
“Your wicked fucking schemes…”
“It’s not wicked to flirt,” I remembered saying.
“It’s wicked to rob me of my footing. To crack me open and force me to realize things I wasn’t ready to deal with.”
Shite.
“I didn’t notice anything at first,” he said. “I was too overwhelmed and couldn’t get out of my own head—even when we started meeting up regularly. But that changed pretty quickly.”
It unsettled me that I couldn’t read him. He’d shuttered his expression on purpose so I couldn’t gauge his mood.
It tied a noose around my neck and closed up my throat, and I couldn’t describe how painful it was. It shot a bolt of fear through me, which I instantly knew was old demons talking. He wasn’t fucking abandoning me. But he was shutting me out for the moment, and I wasn’t equipped to deal with that gracefully.
“You were already in my head, Kellan. And as that obsession grew…” He sighed. “I started picturing you. I couldn’t stop reaching out because I’d become so hungry for how you made me feel—physically. I couldn’t give that up. But Christ, did it cause turmoil. I was livid for a while—and sick with myself.”
Guilt slashed through me, and I threw out the cigarette to start biting my nails. He had every right to be furious.
“The puzzle pieces fit too well,” he said. “Once I pictured your face, I couldn’t stop because the body I was wrapped around in that room felt exactly how I imagined you would feel.”
“I’m sorry,” I heard myself say in a hoarse voice. “I’m not sorry, but I’m so fucking sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I didn’t want you to go through that. I was desperate. I thought it was my only chance to…”
Be near you.
He nodded slowly and switched lanes. “I figured that out too. And my inability to let you go gave me a glimpse into how one might act if they became that desperate.” When he reached out and grabbed my hand and threaded our fingers, my emotions bubbled over, and I smashed my lips together to stifle a whimper. There was no stopping the waterworks, though. “May I ask how long you’ve had feelings for me?”
“Since I grew hair around my dick?” I sniffled.
That earned me the whole package—the sigh, the groan through a chuckle, and the headshake. “Always my crude rebel. Come here, please.”
I was there in a flash, becoming his personal Band-Aid.
He hugged me to him and kissed the side of my head. “You were never going to tell me the truth, were you?”