Chapter 10
Ten
NARDI
Ronan Cullen hovers around the nurse as she fixes my IV. The nurse gives him a disgruntled look that he either doesn’t notice or intentionally ignores.
“Careful around her wrist,” Cullen instructs the woman whose grey hair and wrinkles tells me she’s been in this profession since before he was born.
The nurse is a good sport about it and answers patiently. “Don’t worry, sir. I’m being very gentle.”
I lick my lips and realize they’re chapped. I haven’t had a drop of water since before the lunch rush. It’s been hours and I’m desperately thirsty.
My eyes flit around the giant hospital room until they land on my brother. “Josiah, can you run down to the car and get my water bottle?”
“No need. Each room in the private ward has a mini-fridge,” Cullen says, pointing to the fancy bar set up under the flat screen TV.
I glare at him for making such a ridiculous suggestion. “They’ll charge an arm and a leg just for opening that fridge and letting the cold air out.”
“The last thing you should be worrying about right now is money,” Cullen snaps back. “Josiah, get the water from the fridge.”
My brother rises from the luxurious sofa to fetch the item.
I bark, “Josiah, stay right there. Cullen, don’t order my brother around.”
“I don’t mind, Nardi,” Josiah says.
Cullen stomps to the mini-fridge and opens the door. “If you have a problem with me, we can hash it out when you’re better. For right now, both Josiah and I are here to make sure you’re comfortable and taken care of. Don’t pick a fight unless you want me to change my mind and have you admitted overnight.”
He uncaps the water bottle and brings it to my lips.
“I can drink it myself,” I say grumpily, using my good hand to reach for the bottle.
“Put your hand down, Nardi,” Cullen orders.
The man is suffocating .
Too loopy from the pain meds to argue back and forth with him, I give in for this round and open my mouth. Cullen dribbles some water past my lips and it’s intensely refreshing.
“Want anymore?” he asks, his gruff voice a distinct contrast to the gentle way he wipes the water that slipped down my chin with a napkin.
“No.” I turn my face.
He checks me over as if he’s a human lie detector before finally backing off.
Lowering her eyes through her thick square glasses, the nurse asks, “Is that your husband?”
“No,” I sputter.
She finishes with the IV, leans in and whispers, “Honey, I think he wants to be.”
Heat washes over my face. I don’t have a response for that and, thankfully, she doesn’t expect one.
The nurse spins around, glancing between me and Cullen. “The doctor will be back to discuss the results of the tests. If there’s anything else, just press that little button on the side of your bed.”
“Thank you.” I pin my lips together in an apologetic smile.
“My pleasure.”
As the nurse walks out, silence settles on the room. Both Cullen and Josiah are locked on their phones. It’s funny how they both kind of look alike when they’re concentrating. Their fingers fly over the screen in a similarly urgent fashion.
Cullen looks up at that moment, his liquid silver eyes searching me. I immediately shift my gaze to the giant window overlooking the garden. I didn’t know hospitals were like hotels but the moment Cullen demanded a ‘garden room’, I knew that I was in a completely different world.
“Are you in pain?” Cullen says, striding closer to the bed.
“No.”
“How’s the IV?”
“Fine,” I mumble.
“Want more water?”
“Not yet.” I grunt.
He checks his watch. “Why isn’t the doctor here?”
I frown at his insistence. “Maybe because he has other patients with more severe problems.”
“You have a sprained wrist.”
“We don’t know that. The doctor said he’d need to do a few more tests to confirm it,” I argue.
“He needs the tests to see the extent of the damage and check for any injuries he might have missed. Face it, Nardi. Your wrist is in bad shape.”
“So you’re a doctor now?” I ask sarcastically.
“Technically, I do have my PhD,” Cullen answers.
I shift in the bed, annoyed. Isn’t he supposed to be an extremely shy, reclusive genius? Why does he always need to get in the last word with me?
“My point is there was no need for all this,” I hiss.
“All this?”
“You put me in a luxury hotel room when my cot in the emergency room was fine.”
“It’s not a luxury hotel room.”
I lift my good hand, gesturing to the calming green wallpaper, the beautiful, fresh flowers, and the wooden panels on the accent wall behind the television. “Why does a hospital need an accent wall?” I push down on the mattress beneath me. “Why does a hospital bed feel softer than the bed I have at home?”
“It sounds like you need a new bed,” Cullen says evenly.
I’m suddenly overwhelmed by an image of Cullen in my bed, spooning me to sleep, and my heart misfires like my car after the check engine light blinks on.
What is wrong with me? He showed up at my food stall with Jenna. How much clearer can he be?
Mouth hardening, I grumble, “I’m paying you back for all this.”
“You are?” Josiah pipes from the sofa, the disbelief clear in his tone.
I glare at my little brother. He’s quiet twenty-four seven but, when he finally opens his mouth, it’s to betray me.
“I have money,” I argue.
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do.”
“We’re broke.”
“We’re lower middle class.”
“That’s the new ‘poor’,” Josiah says, head still bent to his phone. “We learned that in economics.”
I sink lower in the cot, too embarrassed to scold him. Why did Josiah have to attend a school that teaches advanced economics to eleven year olds?
“You’re not paying for this room. I am. It’s my fault you got hurt,” Cullen says firmly.
My eyes fly up to meet his. “How is it your fault? It’s not like you sabotaged the tent.”
“You were distracted because of me.”
He’s wrong. The one who bears the ultimate responsibility for this is me, but if some blame has to be shared, it would be with Jenna.
The situation escalated because of her.
But Cullen isn’t even acknowledging that. Just like he shielded her by standing in front of her during our argument, he’s shielding her again.
My throat burns the way it usually does when I want to cry.
But that’s ridiculous because why would I want to cry about Cullen protecting Jenna from me—the big, bad, emotionally unregulated wolf? He and Jenna can go run off into their artificially generated sunset, for all I care.
There are much better things to cry about. Like the inevitable medical bills from this little trip to the emergency room. And filing for time off at the office when I’m nothing but an office assistant. And I’ll most likely have to cancel Sunny’s catering gig next week due to my injuries.
She’d offered a generous pay, way more than I would have charged her, and I really need that money.
The whisk of the door being pushed aside makes us all look up. The doctor and his entourage enter the room.
Josiah puts his phone down.
Cullen fastens his eyes on the doctor as if he expects him to rob us.
“Ms. Davis,” the doctor says cheerfully, “how are you feeling?”
“Great, Doc.” I point to my bum wrist. “Think I’ll be able to walk this off in a few days?”
“Unfortunately no.” The doctor explains my results and prescribes two weeks of rest.
“Two weeks?” I balk.
“Define ‘rest’,” Cullen says, his eyebrows hunkering low over his eyes.
“No driving, no house chores. Nothing that requires use of the wrist. Since the injured hand is your dominant one, you’ll find it uncomfortable for a while. Bear with it. Wrist sprains don’t take long to recover from, but you can’t move it for a while or it might get worse.”
“But what if I have a really important catering gig?” I ask. “Can I at least do a few tasks then?”
He frowns. “I wouldn’t recommend it.”
I tug on the hem of my T-shirt. Two weeks is such a long time to be out of commission. I don’t think my work even offers that kind of PTO for contract employees.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take responsibility for her and make sure she doesn’t disobey your orders, Doc,” Cullen says.
Annoyance hits me hard and I immediately want to jump out of bed and push him out of the room. Who does he think he’s taking responsibility for? Shouldn’t he save all that energy for Jenna?
“Ignore him. I’ll be taking care of myself,” I clarify staunchly.
Cullen glares over the doctor’s shoulders with a look so full of quiet threats that I immediately know he intends to shadow me every day of the next two weeks by any means necessary.
It’ll be a blood bath because I don’t want Cullen anywhere near me and I, too, intend on making that happen by any means necessary.
“Alright then. Let’s bandage that wrist up and you can choose a removable wrist splint in a pretty color.” The doctor laughs.
I don’t laugh with him.
Cullen sulks too.
The doctor clears his throat and gets to work. After my wrist is properly bandaged, he sets the wrist splint around me. Despite the pain meds that dull the ache, I still feel discomfort every time he touches my wrist.
“Sir,” the doctor stops in the middle of wrapping my wrist up, “you might want to sit down, if you’re feeling faint.”
I shoot a quick look at Cullen. He does seem paler than usual. Is he suffering from vertigo again? Did he strain himself carrying me to the car?
“I’m fine,” Cullen says to me as if he can read my thoughts.
“Does he need to get checked out too?” I ask the doctor, wondering if I should let him know about Cullen’s medical history.
“Oh, it’s not that. He’s flinching every time you flinch.” The doctor grins. “I normally notice behavior like that from husbands with pregnant wives.”
I stiffen as a memory I’d locked away resurfaces, tearing at a wound I thought had healed.
‘I’m sorry, Ms. Davis.’
‘Please… please don’t tell my boyfriend.’
A cold sensation washes over my body. I went to great lengths to block out what happened that year. Yet, the memories keep leaking out when I least expect it.
‘Don’t worry. You’re protected under doctor-patient confidentiality. We won’t tell him.’
‘Thank you. I just… I just need some time.’
Tears float to my eyes, making them burn. I hold them back with all my strength, but the struggle must show on my face because, unprompted, Cullen sets his hand on my shoulder. His touch is a steady, calming presence and, somehow, the weight on my chest disappears.
The doctor finishes up with my wrist. Cullen walks him out, asking tons of questions about my prescription and when it would be best to set my next appointment. They spend a few minutes talking in the hallway and, finally, Cullen returns to the room.
“What did he say?” I ask, struggling to adjust myself with only one hand available.
Cullen fluffs the pillows and helps me to lean against them. “He said we can call him if there’s any discomfort but, if we follow his instructions, you can remove the wrist splint at the next appointment.”
I nod.
Cullen points over his shoulder. “I’ll go to the pharmacy to fill this prescription and be right back.”
“Okay.”
I see concern cross his delicately chiseled face. Despite announcing his intentions, Cullen doesn’t move. He remains standing over me, his shoulders broad, his jaw clenched and his silver eyes searching.
“What?” I ask.
He opens his mouth, seems to think better of it and then leaves without a word. The door whisks shut softly behind him.
My attention shifts to Josiah. Thankfully, his expression is easier to read than Cullen’s.
“Nardi, are you okay?”
“I am.” I caress his head with my good hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll be better in no time.”
A frown mars his innocent face.
“What?” I prod.
“I’m not used to you being so...”
“Cute with a wrist splint?” I tease, hoping to pull a smile from him.
His lips don’t budge from their somber, downward curl. “You’re being weird. Normally, you’re nice to everyone. Cullen’s trying to help us. Why are you being so mean to him?”
“I…” My tongue goes heavy. Rather than answer that, I pout. “Whose side are you on? Mine or Cullen’s?”
Josiah blinks at my questions.
“That shouldn’t take you so long to answer,” I say with a mock look of hurt. “Here’s another one. If me or Cullen fell into the sea, who would you save?”
“Cullen.”
I gasp.
“You know how to swim.” Josiah shrugs.
I shake my head. “I bring you over to live with me and this is the thanks I get?”
Josiah finally leaks a smile and my heart settles. I’d break both my wrists and both my ankles, if it meant my brother would be happy for the rest of his life.
“Help me sit up. I want to be on my feet and ready to go before Cullen gets back or he’ll try to force me to stay overnight.”
Josiah lends me his shoulder and I hold on to him, wiggling to the side of the bed. I’m on the move and halfway down the hallway by the time Cullen runs into us.
His eyes flash with disapproval. “Where are you going?”
“You heard the doctor. I’m going home to rest.”
“I’ll drive you.”
“I’ll drive myself.”
“How?” He pats his front pocket. “I have your keys.”
I frown. “Hand them over.”
“I will. After I take you home.”
“I’m too tired to argue, Cullen. I can take it from here. I’m sure you have other things to do.”
“I don’t actually.”
While I grapple for a way to shake him off, a doctor walks up to him. “Ronan Cullen? Is that you?”
Cullen stiffens and turns to face the woman in the lab coat. “Doctor Vasques.”
“How are you?” Her voice is filled with warmth. “I was thinking of you the other day and I wondered how your treatments were going.”
Cullen shifts uncomfortably on his feet. “Everything is fine.”
I see a chance to make Cullen pay and I take it. “Actually, Doctor Vasques, Cullen isn’t?—”
The rest of my words are muffled against Cullen’s palm.
My eyes roll up to his in fury. How dare he cover my mouth?
“And who’s this?” Doctor Vasques inquires, her eyes sparkling.
“My fiancée. She hurt her wrist so I need to get her home.” He dips his chin in goodbye and steers me around.
On the way to the lobby, I chomp down on the lower, fleshier part of his palm. Cullen yelps in pain and I smirk. Serves him right.
“The hell, woman? Did you just bite me? What are you? Part goat?”
“Baaaa!”
The very corner of his lips tilts up and I frown. I don’t want him smiling at me. He’s cute when he smiles and it’s annoying.
I wipe my mouth against the sleeve of my T-shirt. “I can’t believe you just did that.”
“Me either.” He looks at his hand in shock as if the limb has a brain of its own and planned a mutiny. “Do you know how many germs are inside a human mouth?”
Why is he accusing me when he’s the one who exposed himself to my germs?
“If you’re so disgusted, why’d you put your hand there?” I snap.
“I don’t know.” He keeps moving me, hustling me through the double doors. “I don’t think about things like that when I’m with you.”
The soft admission shocks the fight right out of me and I allow myself to be swept into the car and driven back home, all without uttering another word.
The sun is setting by the time, Cullen parks in front of the apartment building. As we approach the entrance, we all see Big T is hanging out at the door.
At first, he doesn’t put out his cigarette when he sees us, but when he notices my wrist, he flicks the cig away. “What happened to you, Nardi?”
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” I say, keeping my distance.
I haven’t forgotten what Cullen told me about Big T’s past. The fact that I didn’t do any research on Big T before almost being convinced to go on a date with him embarrasses me.
Moving to the US at eighteen taught me pretty quickly that I don’t have the freedom to make the same mistakes everyone else does. What kept me safe through the years was learning from other people’s mistakes and avoiding lots of pain and trauma.
I can’t believe I forgot all the lessons I learned. What would have happened had I just let the wave of events carry me forward into a relationship with Big T? What if he’d hurt me or Josiah?
“You need some help?” Big T asks.
Cullen’s grip on my arm tightens.
“No. My fiancé is here. I have all the help I need.”
Big T remains in our way, glancing between me and Cullen. Cullen curls his fingers into fists as the air becomes thicker and thicker with tension. A fight is pretty close to breaking out and I start getting antsy.
Cullen is taller than Big T, but he’s also more frail. Plus, I doubt the reclusive millionaire who codes for a living and has an obsession with germs has ever been in a street fight.
There’s no way I can let this become a brawl.
I get Big T’s attention. “Is there a reason you’re blocking the door, Big T?”
“Nah,” he says tersely.
“Then can you step out of the way?”
“I want to talk to you.”
“Nardi’s tired and needs rest,” Cullen says. His voice isn’t hard or scolding, but it is firm and matter of fact. Somehow, his frank tone seems way more masculine than Big T’s puffed out chest and overly aggressive mannerisms.
Big T scowls at Cullen and, for a moment, I’m afraid he’ll swing. Cullen doesn’t flinch, despite knowing he would one hundred percent lose that fight.
Finally, Big T backs off. “Let’s talk later, Nardi.”
A frown etches into Cullen’s face, but he doesn’t push the issue.
Guilt niggles at me when I think of how that conversation could have ended. I’ve been awful to Cullen all day, but he put himself between me and Big T and stood his ground. Why is he insisting on taking care of me? What does he really want? Is he still only hanging around me to make Josiah his legal legacy?
I ignore those thoughts and focus on the long journey up the stairs. With every step up, we move slower and slower. By the time we get to the apartment, all of us are winded.
Josiah and Cullen head back down to bring our stuff from the car and I pull my little brother aside, advising him to keep Cullen from the heavy pots. He valiantly lifted me and carried me to the car after my accident, but I saw him on the stairs. Cullen exerted a lot of energy today and it’s starting to take a toll.
Once they’re done with the task, Josiah flings himself into the sofa. “We need an elevator.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Cullen breathes out.
The spike of guilt sharpens, digging in like a splinter when I tilt my head up and see the redness of Cullen’s face. The truth is that his illness is way more severe than mine. He’s definitely been stretched to capacity today and I haven’t once told him ‘thank you’. Even worse, I’ve been distant and testy all day, to the point that Josiah had to call me out.
My behavior is going to weigh on my conscience and regret will most likely rob me of sleep. I have no other choice but to make up for it, if only for my own peace of mind.
Josiah lumbers to his feet. “Later, Cullen. I’m going to my room.”
“Night, buddy.” Cullen tries to draw me to the sofa. “Sit here, Nardi.”
I move my elbow out of reach. “I’ll warm up some food.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Have you eaten lunch?”
“It doesn’t matter. You heard the doctor. You’re not to do anything with that wrist. I’ll order take out.”
“Don’t waste your money. We’ve got food here.”
Cullen goes still, his face muscles tightening. I wonder if I’ve offended him by offering food. But then… didn’t he drive all the way to my food stall to eat what I cooked?
“Do you not want to stay and eat?” I ask. “Or do you… I mean, I can make it to go and you can share it with Jenna.”
The words burn, but I’m an adult and I can’t afford to be petty when someone helps me out. A plate for him and Jenna is a drop in the bucket compared to him driving me to the hospital, paying for my hospital room, and helping bring our food stall equipment up to my apartment.
But it’s a start. I don’t like owing anyone anything.
Cullen lifts his gaze to the ceiling as if I’m a frustrating programming problem and he has no idea how to solve it.
“Nardi.” His tone is part growl, part grunt and I instinctively want to inch away from him. “You…” He snaps his mouth shut.
“I what?”
He shakes his head, saying nothing.
Again with the silence. He held his words back in the hospital room and now he’s doing it here. It’s driving me up the wall. What does he have against communication?
“What?” I explode. “What do you want from me? Just say it?”
“I want you to stop being so damn stubborn and let me take care of you.”
Okay, this is good. Arguing I can handle. When Cullen looks at me with those silver eyes going all soft, I can’t take it. I’d much rather fight.
“If you haven’t noticed, I don’t need or want to be taken care of. I built a life completely on my own, away from my family and friends in Belize. I pulled myself from the bottom by working hard and I’ve come so far that I can even turn around and pull my brother up along with me.”
“That’s great. That’s really great, Nardi. I admire you for it. But being so good at struggling alone isn’t the win you think it is. I know because I’ve been there. Hell, I’m still there. But looking at you makes me realize how ridiculous I was. At some point, we have to admit to needing a hand.”
“Whose hand do I need? Yours? ”
“Yeah. Mine, for starters.”
“It’s funny. That hand you’re offering was protecting someone from me today.”
He leans back. “What?”
“You’re not fooling anyone, Cullen. I know exactly what you think of me. Whether this little routine is because you feel sorry for me or because you feel responsible for Josiah, I don’t need it. Okay? I don’t need any of it.” I whirl around.
His eyes are hard. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to warm up some food. You’re going to eat it so you don’t faint and crack your head on your way down the stairs. And then you’re going to drive home, delete my number and never see or speak to me again.”
His footsteps pound behind me and a second later, I’m being tugged toward the kitchen.
“Why are you so stubborn?” I rant.
“I could say the same about you,” Cullen responds dryly. Face a stony mask, he pulls out a chair around the small table and gently pushes me into it.
“Where’s the food you want warmed up? In the fridge?” he growls.
I try to gauge his mood, studying his tense facial muscles. This conversation makes zero sense. “Why do you want to know?”
“You obviously don’t want takeout, so direct me from here.” He yanks the fridge open and my condiments clatter against one another. “Which one of these dishes?”
My heart jackhammers against my ribs. Why isn’t he playing this game right? We’re supposed to shout at each other and then he’s supposed to angrily storm out. He isn’t supposed to stay . He isn’t supposed to keep looking out for me.
How can I win this when he’s changing the rules without permission?
I fold my arms over my chest, protesting with my silence.
“If you don’t tell me, I’ll come up with a dish based on the ingredients you have,” he warns, shifting his attention to the fridge. “And I’ll use the most expensive ones.”
“It’s the container with the red cover,” I blurt.
“What else?” He takes out all the containers I direct him to and stalks to the other end of the kitchen which is, arguably, not that far from where I’m sitting on the counter. “Where’s your microwave?”
“We don’t have one. Radiation from a microwave is bad for you.”
He arches a brow but doesn’t comment. “So you warm it up on the stove?”
“Yeah.”
I watch his back muscles through his T-shirt as he uncovers each of the containers and then leaves them on the counter while he washes some pots. My stomach flutters with excitement. While my brain knows that Cullen shouldn’t be here, my body is excited that he is.
“I can rinse,” I squeak, starting to feel awkward.
Cullen levels me a dark look that needs no words and I obediently remain seated.
The clang of pans knocking and the whoosh of water pouring out of the faucet is all that can be heard for a while. Cullen dries the pans with a clean kitchen towel, dumps the food from the containers into the pans and sets them on the stove to simmer.
I watch him, wondering if he intends to ignore me while angrily cooking all night.
Suddenly, Cullen whirls around and comes to stand in front of me. My heart jumps at his proximity and I press my thighs together. He’s so close, I can smell the smoky scent on his skin and the urge to touch him almost makes me dizzy.
“I wasn’t protecting Jenna from you,” he says intently.
I blink at first. We’d been silent for so long that I have no idea what he’s talking about. And then I frown at the memory. “I saw when you pulled her behind you.”
“I was trying to hide her from your sight. I wanted her to stop speaking to you.” His eyes flash to mine.
I scan his face, waiting for a sign of dishonesty. When I find none, I break eye contact and stare at the ground.
Cullen’s fingers grip my chin and he lifts my gaze to his in a split second. My chest squeezes tight as his eyes lock with mine. “Does the thought of me and Jenna bother you?”
“Of course not.” I try to look away.
His thumb tightens on my chin and he doesn’t let me. “I’m a dying man, Nardi. The one thing I hate most in this world is wasting time.” His eyes narrow. “You’ve been looking out the window to see me coming to work every morning. You were hurt when you thought I’d chosen to protect Jenna over you.”
“I wasn’t?—”
“I want to believe you weren’t. That would make this easy, but I don’t believe you, Nardi.”
I try to swallow but I can’t. There’s a giant lump in my throat. It’s suffocating me.
Cullen’s gripping my chin a little too firmly, and there’s an edge of hunger creeping into his eyes, a bit of insanity, of throwing cares to the wind, arms raised in a ‘screw it’ to the universe.
“Most people don’t know when their time is up, but I do.” The heavy conviction in his words is spoken like a silken caress. “Time moves faster in my world. I bought this apartment and a wing at Josiah’s school within twenty-four hours. I did what someone would take years to do in a day. Do you know why?”
I can barely nod with him still holding my chin, but I manage to bring my head down once. “Because you’re crazy.”
His laughter causes my heart to make a running leap straight into my ribs. Ronan Cullen is certifiably insane.
For the first time, I wonder if I’m in danger and I instinctively look for my cell phone.
He drags my eyes to his again, and there’s something deadly serious there. Something that tells me I very well could be on the verge of losing my life, my heart, my soul to him.
“I’m glad you don’t like me, Nardi. I’m thrilled that you don’t trust me. Keep that wall between us intact. Don’t let it break down any further. It’ll hurt less to bury me if you hate me when I die.”
He’s so calm about it, so cavalier about his death. I glare at him for saying such cruel words to me and to himself.
His stare is equally sharp and cutting. “I’ve decided what I want to do with the remnants of my time.”
“And what’s that?” I snap.
“It’s you.”
I blink at the vehemence in his voice. He’s not asking me. This is simply an announcement of what’s to come.
He draws me to my feet. “You’ll hate me while I fall in love with you.” He grips my hips and edges me against the table. “ You’ll despise me while I cherish you.” His thumb rubs a circle over the band of my jeans. “Seeing that cold look in your eyes will destroy me, but if someone has to get hurt in this, I’d rather it be me.”
My mouth parts on a gasp. I have no way to understand what’s happening in my head and in my body right now. No way to make sense of the urgency building in the air with each word that leaves Ronan Cullen’s mouth.
He leans down to nuzzle the side of my neck. I breathe shakily, panting from the contact. I can’t help the way my hand flutters up to rest against his face, keeping him there. His scent, his skin, his eyes. Even his stupid, stupid beanie… everything about him draws me in.
“You’ll be the first and the last woman I’ll ever take to bed.” He slides his thumb down my chin to the pulse of my throat, feeling my heartbeat skip. “I’m going to study your body, what you like, what you don’t, what you need, how you need it.”
Heat flashes at his words, pooling to my core, taunting me with wicked promise.
“I’ll carve your name on my heart like a tattoo. I’ll collect your smiles like trophies. I’ll please you and break you and build you back and there will be no comparisons, no regrets, no do-overs. Ones and zeroes. You and me.”
The way he speaks, so confident, so full of arrogance, wakes the warrior in me. “I’ll never let a man break me.”
“But you’ll let me please you?” He arches a brow, his mouth hovering over mine.
I gasp.
“I’ll do both,” he warns and again he’s not asking for permission. “Until you taste me when you lick your lips and feel me when you close your eyes. And when I’m done, all I ask is that you keep pushing me away.” His voice rumbles against my skin, transforming the violent lust into something deeper.
Beneath the chaotic throbbing of my pulse and the roaring of my body is an even, breathless promise of more .
“Keep fighting me.” His words stoke the chaos higher and higher and yet, the persistent feeling of more pursues. “Keep finding more and more reasons not to trust me.”
Cullen pulls back while my heart beats fast and sweat glazes on my skin, born from the depths of a fire that he started but that he won’t quench.
“Hate me until I die, Nardi,” Cullen whispers, “that’s all I need you to do.”