Chapter 2 #3
I stared down at the white blankets covering my legs, and for a second, I thought about telling Logan that my “accident” had been the fault of the same person who ran him off the road.
But I bit my tongue and kept quiet instead because something inside told me I needed to save that confession for another time.
“How are you doing?” I asked him instead, because I had noticed that he wasn’t on crutches.
“I’ve got a brace on under my jeans. You can’t even see it.” Logan smiled and patted his leg, obviously glad his condition was improving.
I was so happy to finally hear some good news, but I couldn’t help but think back on what had happened right before I left, to when everything had spiraled out of control before I even realized it.
I recalled the moment when Neil’s lips pressed against my forehead and his hand slipped delicately into my coat pocket, depositing inside a pearl encased in glass.
It felt like I could hear his voice once again, masculine and low, whispering, “Safe travels, Tinkerbell.” I recalled that fleeting moment: intense and magical but also painful and melancholy.
I wondered where Mr. Disaster was, if he’d ever come to the hospital, or if he’d already erased me from his life. But I’d never been sure of anything before when it came to Neil, and I wasn’t going to start now.
I decided to screw up my courage and ask about him.
“Neil… He’s…” I licked my lips as Logan and Alyssa turned their attention to me.
“I mean, has he…” I stammered awkwardly.
If he had never come at all, if he had chosen instead to spend the last ten days with Jennifer, the rest of the Krew, and his many lovers, Logan and Alyssa would think I was an idiot.
An idiot who thought she meant something to Neil.
“Yeah, he came here every day, hoping you would wake up. He was here this morning, too, but he left a couple of hours ago to shower and change. You know…” Logan let the sentence trail off, but I didn’t need the end of it.
By then, I knew all about Neil’s obsession with personal hygiene and showering.
I knew how much he hated staying in the same clothes for too long and how upsetting it was for him to go hours without washing.
He had never told me about these problems. In fact, he never confided in me at all, despite the many times I had tried to understand or excuse him, trampling on my own dignity in the process.
It was for exactly that reason that I had declared my defeat: I had never managed to gain his trust. He had given me only his body, like he’d always done with all the others, and that wasn’t enough for me anymore.
Then, he’d showed me the most twisted and profane side of him, allowing that girl in the pool house to service him while I was right there.
He did it to show me exactly who he was and how useless it was for me to attempt to touch his soul.
He had made it abundantly clear that the psychological wall he’d constructed around himself was far too thick and insurmountable to be brought down by a naive girl like me.
After all, I hadn’t had much life experience.
I’d certainly never come across a man like him before.
It was very hard for me to figure out a way to make a dent in that steel armor he put up every time I tried to push the limits he’d imposed on me.
And he wanted to annihilate me, no matter what the cost. He wanted to make me understand that he would always come out on top and, in the end, he succeeded.
I no longer knew exactly what I felt for him—disgust, frustration, hatred, or attraction. I’d only be able to understand it when…
“Speak of the devil…” Alyssa’s comment interrupted my train of thought. Instinctively, I turned toward the door, and my heart rose like a paper airplane, ready to be shredded again in Neil’s hands.
My mother’s stride slowed, and she gave him an unreadable look. Knowing her, I suspected she’d never approve of someone like him.
Alyssa, though, smiled, and Logan shot him a knowing glance.
“Um, we’re going to go get some coffee. Would you like to join us, Ms. Martin?
” Logan gestured for my mother to follow them, and my eyes bounced between the two of them.
My mother’s blue eyes focused in on Neil as he stood there on the threshold.
Then, with a deep sigh, she smiled politely at Logan and followed him out.
I was confident she hadn’t guessed what happened.
She could not have imagined the Selene she knew going so far, especially with Mia Lindhom’s son.
That knowledge did give me a certain amount of relief, but it also made me feel even more like a horrible person.
My mother had such a different memory of me: that shy, virgin girl who was only going to make love to Jared and only when she was really ready.
Instead, I had in short order 1.) lost my virginity while blackout drunk, then 2.) repeated that folly multiple times before trying every way I could to use a physical relationship to learn something more about Neil.
Every time you want something from me, you have to tell me something about yourself.
That was the deal I’d proposed to Neil one day when he caught me watching him slack-jawed during one of his workouts. I still remembered the way my heart had throbbed in my stomach, just like it did right then with him standing there waiting for everyone to leave before he’d come talk to me.
I leaned back comfortably in the bed and quickly smoothed my hair. I knew I didn’t look good. I was covered in scratches and bruises, and I immediately realized I wasn’t going to fix the situation in the next few seconds.
Then Neil strode into the room, all confidence, and I took a moment to admire him. The figure he cut was nothing short of majestic and arresting, almost intimidating. My body tensed because, even though I hated him, Neil was still the most handsome man I had ever seen—would ever see—in my life.
And, right then, he was looking at me. Just me.
As my mother passed him in the doorway, I noticed the stark difference in their heights.
Neil was so tall, and as he continued to stride purposefully toward my bed, I felt the way he loomed, overpowering the small space.
His body was sleek, perfectly balanced, and even more massive than I remembered.
Had he upped his training regimen? Or maybe enough time had passed since our last encounter, and I could see more clearly why a woman would do any crazy thing for him?
It occurred to me anew how everything about him gave off an aura of skill and power, from his potent bearing to his beguiling, masculine face.
His dark brown hair was shorter on the sides and longer on top.
His forelock, which he usually pushed back, was thick and disheveled.
His lips were plush, his nose proportionate, and his eyes…
The closer they came to me, the more their colors bewitched me.
Gold as ingots, yellow as two sunflowers.
Or maybe twin stars. They were the color of the sand illuminated by the sun or perhaps like ears of wheat in the dawn’s light.
They were impossible to pin down and completely unique. I thought that every time I saw them.
I really was pathetic.
After what he did to me, I should have gathered up my scraps of dignity and kicked him out of the room, but instead, I lacked the strength to do anything.
Without bothering to ask for permission, he sat down on the side of my bed, the metal creaking under his weight. His every move demonstrated a casual dominance that still had me in awe of him.
I cleared my throat, and my gaze was unavoidably drawn to the way his black shirt strained over his fit biceps and sculpted chest. His light-wash jeans stretched beautifully across the muscled definition of his legs.
I hated myself for the way his very presence intoxicated me, how he could make me forget the thousands of reasons I had to be angry at him.
“Hi,” he said, and his baritone sent the same shivers it always did through my body.
Why did he have a voice like that?
“You got your wish,” I answered instinctively, letting my pride do the talking.
I even surprised myself.
But wasn’t he the one at the Halloween party who had taken me into that room where Jennifer was waiting? Wasn’t it all to get me to take that taxi and leave? Wasn’t he the reason I had to go?
My hands were sweating, and my breathing had gotten fast for no reason that I could see.
Unexpectedly, Neil smiled, which only made him look more appealing. It wasn’t a happy or sincere smile, though, but a nervy, challenging one. As he did it, he stared at me so insistently that it made me redden, but I tried to get myself under control.
“What is it you think I’ve gotten?” he prompted me, an inquisitive look on his face.
For a moment, I felt incapable of speech, but I wasn’t sure whether to attribute that to the trauma of the accident or to the way those golden eyes were staring into me.
“Look at me,” I answered in a biting tone.
Though my heart still beat for him, I was so disillusioned by everything that had happened, particularly his cruel attitude.
My words made him flinch, and his expression shifted and grew darker.
He didn’t like that I was giving as good as I got.
He didn’t appreciate anyone trying to stop him from dominating a given situation.
A small frown line appeared in the middle of his forehead, and I realized he was pondering something. He sighed, and his eyes moved to my lips.