Chapter 20
CHAPTER
TWENTY
ELODIE
I have no right to be pissed. I don’t even have the right to be mildly annoyed. Wrath, Coast, whatever the hell he wants to be called, never promised me anything. He was very clear about what he wanted and the way he wanted it.
He wanted me, but only my body. And I wanted him to make my body sing. He did just that, but in the daylight hours, my brain and heart cannot get on the same page, because I want him to fall in love with me, or at least to want more than some fun between the sheets.
And here I am, like a fool, falling in love with him. No, not like a fool—like the idiot I am. Okay, maybe I’m not stupid-stupid, but I am naive, inexperienced, and I can’t turn off my feelings. They’re there, and they are needy.
Now I’m offended that he didn’t respond to me—that he didn’t answer my question, “And then what?”
Dumb. So damn dumb of me. There’s a reason I don’t date a bunch, and there is a damn good reason I’ve stayed away from bad boys, and yet, here I am with the worst of them all, feeling all the things I know I shouldn’t.
I’ve finished the perfect donut and have his sweats on, something I wish I didn’t have to wear because they feel so comfortable and smell like him. I’m going to keep these forever; I’ve already decided, and this is so damn dangerous to my heart.
Gathering my clothes in my arms, I begin to shuffle out of the room, my shoes in hand. I’m an idiot. I fell in love with this guy when I knew I shouldn’t do any of that, and here I am, falling. Hard and fast. Maybe I already fell.
I make my way toward the bar, and when I walk into the room, my gaze instantly finds Alex.
I wait for his eyes to widen and for the judgmental expression to cross his face.
He’s going to judge me. I know it. I continue to watch, bracing for it as he lifts his head.
His eyes slowly slide up my body before they connect to my own, and there it is. He knows exactly what I’ve done.
He stands from his chair, his knees straightening, and then marches directly toward me with purpose. My teeth sink into the inside of my cheek, biting down until the metallic taste of blood fills my mouth.
“What the fuck?” he hisses when he approaches me.
I don’t say anything immediately. I try to think of something to say, but the only thing that comes out is a question, because I don’t want to actually answer him. I don’t want to admit that I slept with someone who terrifies me, and it was amazing.
“What do you mean?” I finally ask, feigning innocence.
He clears his throat, his eyes searching mine for a moment, then he shakes his head once before he answers me. Shifting a little closer, dipping his head slightly so he can talk to me without anyone else hearing.
“You know what I mean,” he grinds out. “What the fuck? You slept with him?”
My eyes shift behind him, then from side to side just to make sure there isn’t anyone listening in on this conversation, even though they would have to be really close to us to hear anything, because I’m going to admit what I did, what I want, and that I’m an idiot.
“I didn’t just sleep with him,” I whisper. “It was an experience, and I want more.”
That confession alone causes Alex’s eyes to widen so much that I’m afraid they’re going to actually pop out of his head. He lifts his hand to his forehead, pressing his palm against his skin as he closes his eyes.
“Oh god,” he groans. “You’re hooked on him, aren’t you?”
Thankfully, he doesn’t do any of this loudly enough for anyone else to hear. Because that would be embarrassing. It’s one thing to be falling for Wrath. It’s another for all his dudes to know and then laugh about it.
“I’m more than hooked,” I confess.
The admission doesn’t make my shoulders feel any lighter. My stomach actually feels like it’s full of rocks, saying it aloud and to someone else. The fact that I am hooked on Wrath. I want more, crave it actually, and I know I definitely should not.
My gaze flicks down to my feet as I try to keep from throwing up. Alex reaches out, wrapping his fingers around my biceps, which forces my eyes to shift back up to meet his. This is almost comical because I swore this would never happen.
I was able to hold off for a whole couple of days. And really, it’s not like he was trying to do anything either. I basically really only held off about two seconds, because the second he gave me a knowing look… I was ready.
What kind of woman am I? I haven’t had sex in over a year, and here I am, throwing myself at this man—a man who I know is dangerous.