Chapter Eleven
Rowan
I secure the last bit of cargo I can in the toolbox before slamming the lid shut. Rain pelts me from all angles. Still, being out here is better. Anything is better than being smothered with Addison’s presence.
Her smell, her smile, and her quick wit are weaknesses to me. I’m still wearing the stupid shirt she gave me because she touched it. And watching her face light up when I agreed to wear it was like being welcomed home after a long job. I loved her eyes on me far more than I care to admit.
She’s attracted to me; that much is obvious. I’m not just drawn to her. I’m obsessed. She keeps giving me more reasons to fight whatever it is that keeps me so grounded. She’s meant to be a job—something I’ll complete and move on from.
But fucking Christ.
I pause, the rain still pounding, unable to shake off the feeling. I don't even think I can walk away. Not after today.
I hop down from the bed of the truck before opening the back door and grabbing both of our duffel bags.
I jog back to the inn and step into the rustic foyer.
Water sloshes off me, soaking the wood beneath my feet as I lumber towards the staircase.
Our hostess is gone, but I plan to come back later to clean up the mess.
As I near the door to our room, I hear the shower running and press my forehead to it as I listen. Addison is humming lightly, her melodious tone reaching my ears as I close my eyes.
All I can picture is what she would look like. Water droplets dripping down the valley of her breasts. Her hardened nipples, pink and flushed with the heat of the shower. Her hair, slicked back with water as she runs her fingers through it.
My cock thickens at the fantasy, and I take a deep breath before pushing the door open. I set her duffel bag down on the floor outside the bathroom door and force myself to walk away. It’s the hardest thing I've ever done, but I helped enough earlier with my great idea of her giving me head.
I’m still an idiot for that.
Best head I’ve ever got, but it can't happen again. Not if I have to let her go in the end.
And who says I have to?
As that thought surfaces, revulsion twists in my chest. I’m not my brother. I still have some morals. Maybe not many, but enough to know that trying to cage Addison would only breed her resentment.
Or it’ll challenge her in that way that makes her look at me like she did back at the store.
“No,” I say out loud before I blink.
Jesus Christ, I'm arguing with myself now. I’ve fucking lost it.
Determined, I try to shut down the argument in my head. I’m not kidnapping Addison. I have to let these thoughts go. It ends here. No more.
The bathroom door cracks open, and steam rolls out before a hand reaches for the duffel bag and pulls it inside.
The door closes, and I release a breath as I plop down in a leather chair.
I bury my face in my hands, using the heel to dig into my eyes as if it’ll clear the heinous thoughts I harbor for this woman.
“I really am fucking sick,” I say lowly.
The bathroom door opens again, and I shoot up from my chair. Addison walks out, her hair wrapped in a brown towel and a new pair of black tights clinging to her shapely legs. She’s wearing an oversized, long-sleeved shirt that swallows her frame.
“The bathroom is clear,” she motions to it before setting her bag on the bed.
I don’t answer her as I grab my things before closing myself in and starting the shower.
My clothes slop onto the floor with a wet slap before I climb in.
The water is scorching as it cascades along my scarred back, but it’s what I need to get my mind off of her.
It doesn't help that the whole bathroom smells like her, and I find myself taking deep breaths to soak it in.
As I scrub the soap into my skin, my cock twitches, reminding me of the hard-on that won’t go away when I'm in her presence. My hand dips lower, and for a second, I think of doing something about my arousal. But I shake it off as I scrub harder at my skin.
I shouldn’t touch myself to the thought of her. Not while she sits in our room, unaware that I want to fuck my fist to the sultry image of her, my imagination has conjured.
Something rattles on the counter, and I turn to the shower’s curtain. I can see right over it and lift a brow as Addison slowly attempts to pull a blow dryer out of the cabinet.
“Just grab it, Sunshine,” I deadpan at her sneaky movements that aren't subtle.
“Sorry,” she gives me a tight, apologetic smile. “My hair can’t be tamed without it. You wouldn't happen to have a brush, would you?” Her eyes trail up to my buzzed head before she rolls her lips in. “Never mind.”
I sigh, stamping down my annoyance with our situation as I shut the water off. “I’m done. I think I still have one from the last time my sister and I traveled together.”
“Thalia, right?” She asks.
“Yeah,” I reach for a towel at the same time Addison grabs it off the counter and hands it to me. Our fingers brush, and I mentally curse at the tension festering between us. I could cut it with a fucking knife at this point.
Test her, my mind urges. See if she’ll fold under the pressure.
“Is it weird with me being here?” Addison asks. “I can go…”
Something snaps. I’m not sure what it is, but I grab the curtain and draw it back. I roll my shoulders easily, tucking the towel around my waist. “Not at all.”
She’s stunned, her eyes wide as she catches full frontal before I wrap the towel around me. Her mouth opens, moving like a fish out of water as I climb out of the shower.
Before I can pass her, I use a finger to lift her chin. “You’ll catch flies.”
“Dick,” she mutters, and I chuckle as I walk into our room.
I grab my bag, and for a second, I imagine Addison sitting at my feet as I brush through her wet strands. It’s a sweet moment, but not one meant for me.
I hand her the brush before grabbing my clothes and stepping off to the corner of the room to change. I keep my back turned away from her, and she doesn't seem to notice as runs the brush through her strands. She turns around, giving me privacy as she hums lightly to herself.
I throw on some grey sweatpants and a t-shirt before grabbing my phone. “I’m going to try and get a signal.”
She snorts. “Good luck. I’ll probably read on my Kindle while you fight a losing battle.”
I leave her in the room before doing a basic perimeter check around the inn.
I pass every window I can on the first floor, staring out into the dense trees that surround this small town.
My gut tells me we’re being followed, but I haven't seen anything over the last hour.
It doesn't mark us in the clear, but it’s odd that the South branch is hanging so far back.
I’m never wrong, so for me to notice means there's something I’m missing.
“Where are they?” I peruse the foyer, glancing out at the empty parking lot. The only vehicle is the one I stole. Not even the hostess’s car is parked out front.
“Rowan, was it?”
My senses go on high alert as I peer over my shoulder at the woman seated behind the desk.
She wasn’t there before, and I didn't hear her. At all.
She gives me a questioning smile that teeters on the edge of uncomfortable. “Crazy storm out there.”
“Yeah, crazy,” I answer.
She shuffles some papers around, but keeps that damn smile on her face. “I’m a firm believer that things happen for a reason. Don't you think?”
Awareness zips down my spine as I face her and tilt my head. “I can’t say I do.”
She hums, looking down at her desk. “Jack was always a pessimist, so I see where you get it from.”
The mention of my father stiffens my shoulders. “Did you two know each other?”
“Know each other?” She scoffs, tossing something on top of her keyboard. “We knew of each other. You don't have to worry, though. I’m retired.”
Somehow, I don't believe her. It could be the uncertainty lingering in the air, or the way she keeps staring at me with that ominous look in her eyes. Whatever it is, we chose the wrong inn to stay at.
She shrugs, “I’m not going to hurt you or your girlfriend. I have no qualms with either of you.”
“But I’m sure you know someone who does,” I bite.
“It really is nothing against either of you,” she reassures me. “But what kind of assassin would I be if I didn't tell someone who’s looking for you, hmm?”
Conniving bitch.
I place my hands on my sides. “How much time do we have?”
“I wouldn't go into the woods if I were you.” She winks before turning on her heel and walking into a connected room.
I abandon my spot as I head back to my room. No wonder there’s no trail to follow. They’re planning on fucking ambushing us. They’re a step ahead, and I need to even the playing ground again.
With the roads closed, they won’t be expecting us to leave until tomorrow, but that doesn't mean they aren't watching. We could be surrounded, and I have no fucking clue.
I storm into the room, interrupting Addison’s book. She's lying on the bed, her arm propping her chin as she reads on her Kindle. “What’s gotten into you?”
I grab my bag and pull out a pair of jeans. “I have something I need to do. Don't leave the room and don't go outside.”
She sits up quickly. “You’re leaving me?”
“Not leaving,” I say as I shuck my sweatpants off. “Just stay in the room. I’ll be back in an hour.”
She stands from the bed, worry twisting her features. “It’s pouring down outside, Rowan. Where are you going?”
As I see the fear in her eyes, it hits me hard. My chest tightens. I can’t leave her like this, not when she’s looking at me with that mix of worry and need.
I place my hands on either side of her face, burying my fingers in her hair as my thumbs stroke the apples of her cheeks. “I’m not leaving you, okay, Sunshine?”
Wide, hazel eyes pierce me as she nods and worries her bottom lip between her teeth.
“I’ll be right back,” I reassure her. “Stay in the room, please.”
Her mouth moves before a quiet ‘Okay’ slips from her.
I press my lips to her forehead, closing my eyes at the feel of her skin under mine. This is it. All I'm going to allow myself to have. After this, I’ll never touch or see her again.
I press harder against her, feeling her body go flush against mine. I don’t want to let go. I can't ignore how perfectly she fits against me.
But the harsh truth cuts through me, raw and cold: she isn't mine.
I go to pull away, but stop when her hands slide up my back. She bunches my shirt in her fists, holding tightly to me.
“Thank you,” she whispers, and my heart breaks.
Slowly, I wrap my arms around her until we’re hugging. “What was that for?” I ask against her hair, turning into her as I let her scent fill my nose.
“For everything,” she responds. “For driving, and giving me a distraction when I needed one. You're a good person.”
I’m not because all I can think of is how easy it would be to lock you away.
“Of course,” I say, the words feeling like sand as they leave my mouth. She thinks I'm a good person, and all I can see are the ways she would be proven wrong in an instant if she knew.
I want to keep it this way. For her to remember me fondly rather than for the monster I really am.
She breaks away first, that smile that makes my knees weak, gracing her features. “Go and do whatever weird shit you have to.”
I chuckle before leaving her. I don't plan to go far, but as I walk away, all I can imagine is a different life—a life where Addison Bright is mine.
And how easily that could be if she only knew what lurked below the surface.