Chapter 25 Selene #2
Expressionless, he searched my face. I was the one blushing like an idiot because apparently I’d turned into my most awkward self, just accumulating faux pas.
I stared back at him for what felt like forever.
I didn’t dare to blink because I was too afraid that, if I did, he’d vanish, turning out to be just another of my dreams.
Just the thought of it made my eyes burn.
I tried to be strong, tried to hold back the tears that I’d been spilling daily since he left.
I should have been screaming at him about all the suffering he’d caused me already, about how I tore myself to pieces every night imagining his breath against my skin, his hands on my body.
But I couldn’t bring myself to do that because I was weak when it came to him, bending to his will, twisted back and forth by those devilish eyes.
“Selene, are you sure you’re okay? Did you actually take your temperature?
” Logan put a hand on my shoulder, and I flinched at the unexpected contact, all my thoughts melting away.
I sneezed again before nodding firmly, convinced that an actual child would be a more convincing liar.
And, in fact, Logan did twist his mouth into a skeptical expression and gave me a quietly reproving look.
“I’m fine. I’ll just hang out with you all for a little bit, and then I’ll go upstairs and lie down, okay?” I said, offering what I thought was a reasonable compromise. He smiled wryly at me and shook his head.
“Perfect, I’ll ask Anna to bring you some medicine, then. You need to rest,” he told me sternly before turning his focus back to his brother, who hadn’t stopped staring at me even for a moment. His golden eyes picked at my skin like so many tiny pins and needles.
I felt naked, like my white sweater and jeans had been peeled away and my every fear and insecurity was exposed for him to do with as he wished.
“Here’s the riddle Player sent this morning.
There was also a bouquet of black roses that I threw out.
” Logan handed over the paper, and Neil snatched it from him, turning his attention abruptly from me to the note.
He sat down on the sofa, legs spread wide, and studied it closely.
Megan sat down beside him and rested a hand on his knee.
I watched them in silence, feeling like a third wheel. I sensed too much intimacy and too much understanding between the two of them, and it hurt. I should have been the one sitting by his side. It should have been my hand on his body.
“I have no idea what he’s trying to say,” Neil muttered, passing a hand through his messy hair. Seeing him right there in front of me and being unable to touch him was unending torture.
I felt breathless, rocking back and forth on my heels to keep myself from going straight to him the way I wanted to.
“Me neither. I don’t get what ‘photo’ has to do with ‘mosaic’ or any of the rest…” Logan folded his arms over his chest and gave a heavy, thoughtful sigh. Megan’s eyes were riveted to the note, and she looked absorbed, trying to figure out what it meant.
“I’m going to take it back to Chicago with me and try to figure it out there.
” Neil got to his feet, the note still clutched in one hand.
He pulled a pack of Winstons out of his pants pocket, and without giving me so much as a look, walked right past me.
The smell of musk washed over me, and it felt like I’d been punched in the stomach.
Megan got up and followed him, and I watched the two of them walk through the kitchen, heading outside to the yard.
“Stop thinking those ugly thoughts, Selene.” Logan came over to me, smiling as he laid a hand on my forehead. I cocked an eyebrow at him and snorted.
“What ugly thoughts? That he wants Megan?” I asked him, sounding notably nasally.
“You don’t see the way he looks at you, do you?
You’re the only person he sees, Selene. It’s been like that for a while.
” He tucked a strand of my hair back and searched my sorrowful eyes for any glimmer of hope.
I didn’t say anything because I had not observed anything of the sort from Neil.
I had looked him eye to eye several times, and on each occasion, he’d only seemed indifferent.
“Don’t let her occupy your place. Go to Neil and talk to him,” he urged me with conviction, giving my shoulders an encouraging squeeze.
I didn’t know what I should do; I felt too vulnerable.
Too afraid.
I was afraid that he might hurt me. Or rather, that he would cut me to ribbons with his cruel words. Neil knew how to land a blow, and he was an expert at the kind of psychological torture that kept me at a distance.
I’d been waiting to see him again for months, and now that I finally had the opportunity to talk to him, I was shying away like the rankest coward.
“Go on, you can do this.” Logan pushed me gently in the direction of the kitchen. I allowed myself to be pushed, moving with difficulty not only because of my physical exhaustion but also because I was too overwhelmed by all the feelings Hurricane Neil had stirred up.
I sighed and slowly rounded the kitchen island. My heart beat faster and the chills intensified. I felt like a child preparing to face down the fearsome giant who had already shattered her heart once before.
I reached the glass doors and froze when I spotted Neil and Megan outside, standing close together as they talked.
Too close. He still had the riddle in one hand, and he held a cigarette in the other.
His face was dark and pensive as he looked out over the lawn.
She touched his face, bolstering him, petting him, but the worst was yet to come.
She stood up on her tiptoes and dropped a kiss on his lips.
My breath caught.
Neil took a step back, breaking the contact and looking annoyed, but that wasn’t enough to soothe me.
I staggered back, aggrieved, and every fear I had, every insecurity, rose up to remind me that my instincts had always been right: He was attracted to her.
As I stood there in shambles, I couldn’t suppress another loud sneeze, and the two of them turned to look at me.
I was caught in the act.
Caught spying on them.
I couldn’t even look at them; I just turned on my heel and ran away. I sped out of the kitchen and immediately ran into Logan, who managed to catch my arm as I hurried past him.
“So? Did you talk to him?”
I scowled at him. For a moment, I thought about making up some lie, but I immediately realized there would be no point. I shook my head as tears filled my eyes. I knew Logan could see how much pain I was in.
“I don’t feel good, Logan. You were right. I need to rest. I’m going upstairs to my old room.” I pulled myself out of his grasp and climbed the stairs as fast as I could, using up the small amount of strength I had left.
I threw the door open, and immediately, memories flooded me, shredded me, and devastated me.
This was the room where we’d had our first “real” time together.
The first time when we were both fully aware of what we were doing together because we were incapable of pulling free from the desire, the twisted, unhealthy connection that had drawn tight around us like a confining rope.
Miserable, I laid down on the four-poster bed and curled up into the fetal position, not even bothering to pull the covers over me.
I could feel the ache in my head pulsing, the cold sensation running up and down my body, my broken heart beating, and my tears slipping down my cheeks.
Now that I was there, I allowed myself to cry.
No one would see me there; no one would judge me.
I was alone.
I had finally lost Neil for good, and I had lost myself as well because I no longer had the strength to keep on fighting.
I closed my eyes and fell asleep with my chills for a blanket, my shivers for a caress, and my pain for a constant companion.
I slept for a long time until I felt a hand touching my forehead and stroking my hair.
I mumbled out a shaky “thanks, Logan.” I assumed he was playing nursemaid and looking after me.
I was confused, then, when I felt his lips settle, soft and warm, against my cheek before slowly moving down to my throat.
I let out a little involuntary sigh of pleasure, and a warm sensation spread through every part of me.
It was weird of Logan to be touching me in such an intimate and, frankly, carnal way.
But maybe…
I opened my eyes and turned my head and thought I was hallucinating when I met Neil’s grave, intense stare, fixed on me.
He’d been sitting on the side of my bed for who knows how long.
My blood began to boil in my veins: I wasn’t sure if I was outraged or thrilled by his presence.
“What are you doing here?” I asked him, my voice dry as I tried to sit up. I couldn’t, though; my muscles were still too weak. I clearly wasn’t any better for my rest.
He didn’t answer but just watched me closely with both sadness and apprehension on his face.
Was he worried about me? More importantly—how long had he been there?
“You’re still running a temperature…” he noted, his voice deep and austere, and he stopped stroking my hair. I watched his full lips flatten into a line and had the urge to kiss him. My cheeks burned at the lecherous idea.
His shadowy aura made me feel even smaller than I actually was.
In that moment, I wished I could be like Megan—strong, sure, confident—but I wasn’t. I wasn’t surprised Neil had chosen her instead.
“You shouldn’t be here; go back to your girl. I get it, you know? You don’t have to explain anything to me.” My headache was throbbing, but that didn’t stop me from venting my anger.
An immature girl.
That was what I acted like, but I didn’t care. Neil didn’t know what was going on inside me; he had no idea what I’d gone through in the last six months.
There is no pearl without her shell.
How was I supposed to live now that he’d chosen someone else?