Chapter 27
Panic clawed up my throat as I shut the door to my room. My suitcase sat on the bottom of my bed. Roxy circled my legs, feeling the shift in my energy. I crouched down to comfort her. A tidal wave of emotion threatening to crash over me.
Everyone leaves.
Rationally, I knew that was bullshit. Fallon was still here—for how much longer?
—that toxic thought came in and embedded itself in my head.
I crouched down, burying my fingers into Roxy’s fur, the softness doing little to calm my erratic breathing.
It was unbelievably selfish to keep someone back and not want them to start building a life of their own.
But for so many years, the only thing I had was her.
She’d stayed through my parents’ divorce and through my mum dealing with her grief in the weirdest way possible.
She’d clung onto my side through everything and never let me go through anything alone.
Now she had Oliver. Where did that leave me now?
The door to my room opened. I didn’t need to turn my head to know it was him. I felt his presence like a living creature.
‘Roxy, out.’ He clicked his fingers. Roxy’s ears pricked at hearing his commanding voice.
I got to my feet, turning around. About to yell at him to leave me alone. The furious look he wore nearly took my breath away.
‘What are you doing?’ I croaked.
He clicked his fingers at Roxy, whose head darted between us, as if deciding who she should listen to.
When her feet scrambled on the hardwood floor in her efforts to obey George, that scab I’d been picking at all evening opened, turning to a full-blown wound.
He closed the door behind her and strode across the room towards me. I took a few steps back, not quickly enough because one hand threaded through the base of my skull, holding me in place as he towered over my small frame.
‘You want to tell me what happened down there?’ His tone held an edge of violence I’d never heard from him.
‘I drank too much tequila.’
He shook his head. ‘You had four shots. For you, not enough to even get you that tipsy.’
He’d been watching me drink? Taking note of how much… my thoughts jumped from one thing to the next. He also seemed to know how much it took to get me drunk.
‘You don’t know that.’
‘Yes I do. I know more about you than you think, Rosie Grange.’
I shifted in his hold, twisting away from the truth I could see resting behind those eyes and wanting like hell to get away from it. But he didn’t loosen his grip. ‘No, you don’t,’ I said weakly.
‘Yes, I do, and I think that’s what scares the absolute shit out of you.
’ He continued, eyes burning hot with need.
‘I know you only drink black coffee because milk doesn’t always sit well with your stomach, but you’ll eat a whole tub of ice cream after a hard day.
You love wearing those sexy as fuck outfits you own, not because you think the other person will appreciate it, but because it makes you feel powerful. ’
‘Stop,’ I said without conviction.
He hesitated, dark blue eyes searching my face, dipping down to look at my lips like he was waiting for the right moment to pounce. ‘Give me a reason to.’
A flare of anger lit in my veins. Why the hell couldn’t he see that this was going to end in disaster?
Why couldn’t he see the flapping red flags I was waving all over the place?
He wanted a reason to stop? I’d give him several.
Because in no universe did this explosive chemistry between us not burn us both out.
I steeled myself against his gaze. Stiffening my shoulders and wiggling out of his hold, pressing my palms against his chest and pushing as hard as I could.
He resisted for a second before relenting and letting me go.
He didn’t go far. His hands fell to his side, the inch of space separating us feeling like a cavern.
‘I’m fuckable,' I spat. ‘I’m not the girl you dream about spending the rest of your life with. I’m the girl you call when your dick’s hard cause you know I’m a guaranteed good time.
I’m the one you talk about to your mates, telling them how tight I am and how I sucked your cock like no one else.
’ His jaw ticked at my words. Good. Let him be disgusted. ‘How my body is insane.’
‘Stop,' he said through gritted teeth.
Tears blurred my vision.
‘Why? You want to get to know me, right? You wanted a reason this thing between us is such a bad fucking idea. You want to know the real me, so here it is.’ My voice cracked.
‘You wanna know how many guys I’ve fucked, George?
I don’t know. Isn’t that disgusting? I don’t even know the number.
And you stand there looking at me like I’m something I’m not, something special, and I’m fucking not. ’
I slammed my hands into his chest on that last word, but he was an immovable object.
Using my momentum against me, he yanked me to his chest. Grasping my hands in one hulking hand and twining them around my back, he locked me against his hard, unyielding body.
So close, I felt his heart thrash against his chest in time with mine.
His other hand reached up to clasp my cheek.
His eyes were swirling vortexes of so much goddamn tenderness.
The tears cresting in my eyes spilled over. Soft sobs rattled through my body.
His voice pitched so low, I felt it vibrate through his entire chest. His grip on my cheek tightened, silently imploring me to hear every word out of his mouth.
‘Your past doesn't threaten me, sweetheart.
It doesn't make me jealous. It makes me want to sit on the floor and ask you every detail so I can know all the pieces that created this incredible person standing in front of me.
I want to know about the guys, the heartbreak, the joy, because they are all a part of you.
I'm not picking and choosing which parts of you I want. If I did, it wouldn't be real. And this feeling in my chest is more real than anything I’ve ever experienced in my life.’ His thumb swiped the tears from under my eye.
‘You are the first good thing to enter my life in such a long fucking time.’
‘You’re lying,’ I said in a broken whisper.
‘I’ve wanted you since the first night I met you, Rosie. But I knew you didn’t want to get into anything, so I didn’t push it.’
‘Since… since then?’
‘Since you kicked my arse at pool and I knew I’d never see anything as beautiful as you.’ His thumb traced circled on my cheeks. ‘You want to push me away and try to tell me you’re something you're not, then go right ahead. I’ll still be here.’
‘I’m scared.’ The vulnerability in my voice made me wince.
A surprised laugh rumbled up his throat. ‘You think you don’t scare me, sweetheart?’
‘I don’t want to hurt you.’ The truth in that sentence hit me full force.
The thought of hurting him made my stomach lurch.
Only two people held that much power over me.
Two people I’d sell whatever organ necessary to never cause them a single moment of pain.
It was part of the reason I’d even agreed to the bet.
I could hear the pain in Fallon’s voice, the worry I’d put there.
Somehow, without me realising, George slid into that category.
‘I’m not as fragile as you seem to think.’ His eyes begged me to let him in. God, I wanted to.
He wasn’t getting it. I pressed my knuckles into his chest, shaking my head furiously. ‘I’m going to hurt you.’ I didn’t know how to be in a healthy relationship. Even all my friendships outside of Fallon had crumbled after a few months.
George lifted his hands, cradling both my cheeks, stopping my wriggling and forcing me to look straight up in his dark eyes.
‘Go ahead, sweetheart. I meant what I said to Oliver. I’m not afraid of being hurt by you. I want to be right here when your brain tells you to push me away because you think I’m not going to be fucking obsessed with every part of you. I’m going to prove it wrong. Every. Fucking. Time.’
He hesitated for a split second before he slanted his lips over mine.
And I let it all go.
All the fear and dread that threatened to swallow me whole. I let it disappear into the ether and held onto the only thing I knew for damn sure was solid.
George.
I tilted my head back and let his tongue enter, moaning when he swirled it around. God, I needed him. Needed to feel him everywhere. All the teasing, the brief kisses, the phone sex, it all built up this voracious desire in me, setting me on fire.
‘I need you to touch me, please.’ I pulled back enough to whisper those words.
He moaned into my mouth. Hands yanking on my hips to crush my body to his. My hands tangled in his hair. When I pulled on the soft strands, my body bending into his touch, he jerked his head back. Chest pitching in heavy breaths.
Large hands that I needed buried deep inside me lifted and grasped mine, pulling them from around his neck. He pressed a soft kiss to the inside of one of my palms, placing them on his chest, right above his heart that thumped a steady beat.
Slowly, not losing eye contact with me, his fingers toyed with the waistband of my jeans. He traced a finger along the centimetre of exposed skin on my stomach, and my body shivered violently.
‘Yes or no, sweetheart?’ His voice was back to that sexy tone when he made me come over the phone.
I let out a breath, the word falling from my lips without a single ounce of hesitation.
‘Yes.’