Chapter 22 #2
Through no fault of my own, my cock hardens at the sight.
I ignore it. In fact, I ignore it so fucking much, I almost exhaust my cigarette in one go, just to make the damn thing work faster.
It’s supposed to distract me from her, but who the fuck am I kidding?
It never works. I didn’t mention it to her when she asked me why I smoked.
“Hi,” she chirps, sauntering over to me with an old book in her hands—one I know too well. She clutches it to her chest, looking up at me with big, bright eyes. “Is it done? Your work at the…um…warehouse.”
It’s impossible not to lower my gaze to those soft, perfect lips as she speaks.
“Yep,” I say, clipped, as I walk past her into the living room. I can hear her small steps behind me, and I wince, my breath deepening as I force my body to ignore the pull of her proximity. The room fills with the sound of alcohol as I pour some into a glass from the decanter.
“I found this in the library,” she says. “The margins are annotated, and your name is scribbled at the end. I take it you’ve read it a lot?”
I take a big gulp of whiskey, watching her side long. “Isn’t it obvious?” I ask, the sting of my words making me want to punch myself in the fucking face.
“Well, yes, but—”
Putting my drink down, I continue my trail into the dining room, where dinner is about to be served.
“What’s with you?” she asks, making a beeline after me. “Hey, look at me.”
Her hand wraps around my arm, and the flammable feeling that coursed through me at the sight of her earlier explodes beneath my skin, crackling like the nearby fireplace.
I turn to her, nostrils flaring. Her gaze flinches, and I want to scoop my eyes out so I don’t have to see the pain growing on her pretty face because of someone like me.
I can’t get myself to think straight—not since that goddamn kiss that took my breath away.
Still, I ignore the discomfort twisting inside me, shoving it down to the same dark place I never look at.
“I know you feel like we developed some bond since we kissed that night, but you have to see it for what it is, Cecilia.” I grit my teeth.
“Mindless fun. And if we ever fuck, it’s going to be the same thing.
You’ve been around me enough to know I’m not the kind of man who stays in one place for too long.
So, for your sake…” I look away, dragging a hand down my face.
“Stop putting your heart into this. Either accept it for what it is or stay away from me if you can’t.
Trust me, I’m offering you a kindness. I’m no good for you, and you sure as fuck aren’t good for me. ”
Her throat bobs a little, but she swallows down her true reaction. Instead, her lips curve upward, and a calm settles over her pretty face. Everything she was on the brink of feeling transfers to me, and suddenly, I’m the one drowning in pain.
“My heart was broken a long time ago, Mikhail. By my father, by people who I thought were my friends. For you to break it now would be impossible,” she says.
She places the book on the dinner table—Crime and Punishment—and taps it twice with her index finger.
“I don’t know what the hell happened to you or why you’re reacting this way, but you’re right.
I know you well enough by now to know you’re just pushing me away.
My advice? Sort yourself out, and do it quickly, because the woman you lured into that basement isn’t the same one you married. Thanks to you,” she smiles coldly.
I stare at her, heart pounding and jaw locked. I have no fucking words.
But when she walks away with her head held high, something panicked snaps inside me. I find myself stalking after her, gripping her wrist to keep her with me, even though I know I can’t afford to care about this nonsense.
She turns, hair flowing like a mass of molten chocolate behind her.
“If you have no heart left, then why did you let me kiss you? Hmm? What was that all about?” I ask her.
“I don’t know,” she answers, and it’s my turn to flinch at her words.
“But I wanted it, and so did you. Even though I don’t have the answer, I’m not going to cower from voicing the truth: I wanted you to kiss me.
Yes! So what? If you weren’t such a prick, I’d even consider repeating the experience. ”
My eyes widen, both at her straightforward attitude that’s totally out of the fucking blue and at the things she tells me.
She lets out a bittersweet laugh. “You threaten anybody who insults me, help me through panic attacks and nightmares. You…you…killed that guy in the goddamn alley for ripping up a dress I’m never going to need again.
And then you have the audacity to come home and lie to my face that it means nothing? ”
My eyes roam her face, wanting to burn the fucking house down. This woman—seven years younger—is wiser and calmer than I could ever be in this situation. And she’s fighting for me. For us.
The problem, however, is that she has no idea what I’ve done, why her love would be wasted on someone like me.
I step closer, making her lift those focused eyes. “Very well, then. I won’t pretend the kiss didn’t affect me, but that’s exactly why this needs to stop,” I say.
Yanking her wrist free, hurt flashes in her haze as she says, “Funny. For someone who isn’t scared of literally anything, cowering at the thought of kissing your wife is quite something, isn’t it?”
With that, she turns her back to me and leaves the dining room, heading for the staircase.