Page 43

“Fuck me,” I begged, again. “I want you inside me. I want to feel you that way.”
Panting into my cheek, he shook his head, his hair falling into his eyes. He was wavering when I stroked faster. “Not… yet.” His words were broken, straining. He wanted me too. I knew it.
“Why?” I asked, tears spilling and sliding down my temples and onto the silk pillowcase.
He closed his eyes, shaking his head. He breathed out slowly and whispered, “Because I love you.”
It was the first, and only time he ever said it. That was the night before he left for Athens.
…
Do you see that girl on the floor? The one crying because her heart hurts?
That girl, suddenly she doesn’t know who she is anymore. How’d I get here like this? So broken and tired and confused? Why am I letting him do this to me again?
I’m still in the entryway, lying flat on my back now, when I notice a shadow in the window. Or maybe it’s because I’ve been crying so much I dehydrated myself and now I’m seeing shit. I don’t know, but it’s enough that it startles me, and I jump to my feet, frantically searching for what could possibly be on our fire escape.
I grab a knife from the kitchen counter and then walk gingerly over to the edge of the window to peek outside. I can’t see anything with the rain drops on the window but then suddenly, something hits the window with a thwack.
A hand. I have a moment when I think, shit, this is how I die, but then Roan’s face comes into view. Anger pulses through me instantly and I yank the window open, a rush of wind hitting me in the face. I grip the knife in my hand. I really wouldn’t put it past me to stab him.
“What are you doing using the fire escape?” I growl, tempted to push him over the edge.
He rolls his eyes, balancing himself unsteadily on the edge between the rails. “I couldn’t knock on the door, now, could I?”
I glare at him, my hands on my hips. “He’s not here. He’s picking his sister up from the airport.”
He leans forward, his hands on either side of the railing. He smells like rain and gasoline. “Then let me in.”
Rain drips from his face, his nose, his hair. He’s drenched but there’s a distinct flush to his cheeks and hardness to his eyes I haven’t seen in a while. His gaze slides over my body and it’s damn near pornographic with the way he regards me. Judging by the wicked gleam in his eyes, I don’t want to play this game with him. “No,” I snap, feeling like I need to stand my ground with him.
His brow furrows. “Why?”
“Because you’re mean.”
He rolls his eyes. “What are you, ten again?”
I set the knife on the table next to the couch. “Making fun of me isn’t going to convince me to let you in,” I point out, my hands on the window, ready to close it on him.
He shivers, his shoulders hunching forward. “It’s cold.”
“Freeze to death.”
He sticks his bottom lip out and then coughs into his arm, the sound crackly and broken. “But I have pneumonia.”
“I don’t care.”
Damn it, I do care. I reach for his jacket, but I end up pushing him in the process.
“Fuck,” he whispers, slipping on the wet railing.
“Oh my God!” I gasp, grabbing hold of his wet jacket. My hands slip off him and I almost fall out the window in the process. “Don’t fall.”
He laughs and adjusting his footing. “Now you’re concerned?”
“Just get in here.” I motion him forward.
With some awkward maneuvering, I sneak him inside from our fire escape, and he stands inside the condo I share with another man. It’s then I wonder why he’s here and what he’s going to say. I never imagined him being in the condo, or how he might react to seeing my life with someone other than him. I put myself in his shoes. What if I walked into a life he shared with someone else? Could I handle it?