Page 130 of A Wreck, You Make Me

“I stole it,” he announces like he’s so proud. “And my friend walked me through how to crack your pansy-ass passcode and install the software. The data feeds into my phone or his at all times.”

I dig my nails into his chest harder. “God, this is such a gross invasion of privacy and?—”

“Yeah?” His eyes flash then, his nostrils flaring. “And what do you call my father trying to get into your fucking room in the middle of the night? Is that invasion of privacy too or are we just moving past that and calling it a pedophile being a fucking pedophile?”

I open my mouth to argue again when I realize what he said, and my heart squeezes so fucking hard, I lose my breath. He notices my ire losing some of its steam, and says, his words gruff and angry, “You forced me to promise you. Youforcedme to not go after him and tear him limb from limb. Knowing that it would beexcruciatinglypainful for me to break a promise to you. So if you’re not going to let me avenge you for all those sleepless nights, all those years of feeling unsafe and scared in your own home, for protecting Callie… That’s why you did it, didn’t you? You told me. Because you didn’t want Callie to feel unsafe. You didn’t want anything bad to happen to her, to us. That’s what you’ve done, all your life. Protected people, people you didn’t even know. So now you’re going to let me protect you however I want to, do you understand? It’s your turn now. We won’t have any discussions about this either. No compromises, no two-way street. This is mine too. Is that clear to you?”

“Yes.”

And then, I can’t stop myself, so I reach up and catch his lips in a kiss. He kisses me back and we lose ourselves in the moment. Before long, we’re making out. When we come up for air, I say the first thing that comes to mind, “I can’t believe you brought me flowers. I can’t believe you broke your window and then kneeled on brokenglassfor me.”

“I hurt you, didn’t I? And flowers are nice, but nothing says I’m sorry better than my mouth on your cunt and broken glass cutting into my knees.”

I caress his face. “How are you here?”

I can’t believe I haven’t asked him this yet. But we’ve been so busy and cozy in our bubble that it didn’t occur to me to bring it up. It’s time though. To get back to the real world. It’s time for him to leave soon.

His calm expression changes and becomes taut, as if realizing the same thing. “Took the first flight out.”

“But you have a game tomorrow.”

“I’ll make it.”

“But shouldn’t you be, like, with your team right now?” I say, my eyes flicking back and forth between his. “Doing pre-game stuff and all that.”

His nostrils flare with a sharp breath as he clips, “It’s fine.”

“But,” I keep insisting because he still doesn’t seem to grasp the urgency of the matter, the sheer excitement and thrill, “you’re doing so amazing, Shepard. I think you’re really going to win. Not that I ever doubted it, but I think you’re bringing home the trophy this year. You need your full focus on the game. You can’t be?—”

“You know so much about soccer now?”

“What?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

I frown.

Before I can say anything, he moves away from me. He rolls out of bed even, all naked and angry, and Jesus,glorious, and strides toward the ensuite bathroom. And I’m left wondering what just happened.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

I findhim beyond the glass door and under the shower, his head tipped back, his eyes closed, all wet and looking heartbreakingly gorgeous, but I ignore that and say, “What just happened?”

He probably knows I’m here, staring at him because he doesn’t look even remotely surprised at my sudden words. He does look angry though because his chest moves with a sharp breath. Then, slicking his hair back with both hands and water sluicing down his face and body, he orders, “Get out of here.”

I fist my hands at my sides. “Not until you tell me what happened.”

“Leave.”

I clench my teeth, my frustration with him rising. “Talk to me.”

He finally levels me with a look, daring me almost. “Don’t want to.”

“Why are you being an asshole right now?”

“I’m always an asshole.”

“What just happened?” His jaw clenches at my question. “We were all talk-y talk-y and mellow and everything was going amazing and you were all sweet and then you just?—”