Demitri (Rock Hill #1)
Prologue
PROLOGUE
MIA
ONE YEAR AGO
Left foot.
Right foot.
Deep breath.
Pace yourself.
The goal is five miles today.
You can do five miles.
Left foot.
Right foot.
Deep breath.
Feel the burn, embrace it.
“Fuck!” I yell, stumbling over a stick in the path. “Fuck you stick!”
Running is supposed to make me happy. Supposed to release some endorphins or shit like that. I’ve been running for five years. Still waiting to be happy about it. But the gym doesn’t work on bar-owner schedules, and as my mom’s voice continues to reminds me when I have feelings of inadequacy, I’m not getting any younger and my figure isn’t going to last forever.
That would be one of many reasons I don’t talk to her anymore.
Left foot.
Right foot.
BAM!
“Oof!” a male voice grunts as I make contact with a hard chest.
“Fuck,” I grunt in return, because I don’t bounce off the hard chest. His arms are bound around me, holding me up.
“You alright?” the man asks.
I don’t respond, instead I try to get away. I pull at his arms, but they don’t move. I try to take a step back, but there’s nowhere to go.
“Let me go,” I demand.
“Hey, it’s alright. Just making sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine. Let me go.”
But it’s too late. It’s not this man holding on to me, but another. He’s a man I’ve been afraid of coming after me for over ten years. The eyes staring at me? They aren’t the crystal blue of this man. They are cold, brown, and want to hurt me.
“Get off of me! I won’t let you hurt me again!” I yell, pushing at his chest.
“I’m not?—”
“Shut up! I’m sick of your lies! I know you want to hurt me. It’s all you ever do!”
“Mia!” he yells back. “Mia, it’s me, Demitri!”
“No. No, you’re lying. Why are you lying to me? Get away! Stop touching me! You’ll never touch me again!”
I hit his chest with my fists, trying to push him away, but he doesn’t move.
“Mia,” he says in a low voice. “I’m not touching you.”
“But…” I trail off as I realize he’s right. His arms have dropped from around me. He’s standing still as a statue, but he’s not coming for me. I’m the one who’s clinging to him.
“I’m sorry, Mia. I’m sorry someone hurt you, but that wasn’t me.”
“Demitri?” I whisper, finally focusing on the man in front of me. “I know you.”
He nods, his face a mask of worry and pain. “You know me.”
“I thought?—”
“It’s alright. I know what you thought. And it’s okay. I swear I’m not going to hurt you.”
I take in the man in front of me, with his piercing blue eyes and tall frame. His body that’s strong without looking like a meathead. And while he’s gorgeous, it’s always his face that makes me feel . And right now, after attacking him for being someone from my past, I just have to get away.
“I’m sorry, I have to go.”
Without another word, I turn, but he reaches out and grips my hand—gently. Always gently. In all the ways I need him to be, at least.
“This isn’t over, Mia. You know that.”
“I don’t know what you want from me.”
“I want your friendship.” He moves closer, leaving space between us. “I want your body.” His free hand rises to my face, where he lifts my chin to look at me. “I want you to see me when I give you pleasure and make your body quiver.”
“Dem…I don’t…”
“Doesn’t matter. You know I’m right. You know we aren’t done. You know you still want me. We can do it on your terms. But we will do it again.”
I shake my head, but even I know I’m full of shit. I do want him again. And that terrifies me.
“Tomorrow night.” He grins, knowing I won’t turn him down. “I’ll meet you at closing.”
With that, he lets me go. What am I getting myself into?