Page 9

Bryn

My heart sunk. At first, bypassing whether I believed the shifter part or not, he was admitting to wanting me since the day we met. Or so I thought. The more he kept talking, a new truth was revealed: he had a hero complex the size of Metropolis. He didn’t care who I was with, so long as nothing happened to me. For some reason, he felt responsible for me.

Darn it! Tears stung my eyes as I fixated on the hardwood floor. My throat constricted as my emotions clutter my senses. I hated that I was about to cry. I hated that his words, what his words unveiled, hurt. I hated that he had a hold on me. No man should have this power. The only reason he had it was because I’d given it to him. I’d given it to Darren and now to Bear. When would I learn?

“You can’t control the uncontrollable, Bear. I could get an incurable disease tomorrow and there would be nothing anyone could do.”

Peering up at him, all I saw was disdain.

His expression intensified. His brows slid into a single line of anger. His jaw was clamped tight; his teeth gritted. His nostrils flared with every huffy breath. His upper lip curled ever so slightly in disgust. His hands remained fisted at his sides. His muscles seemed to be pulsating, like he was clenching and unclenching them. Tension bound every inch of his frame as he glared at me.

A dull ache settled in my chest as I took him in. It was what I needed to see, to experience, though. Somehow, it strengthened my resolve. Never again. Never again would I give a man power over me in any capacity.

“Thank you for last night. I really do appreciate it, but I’m… I’m not your child, Bear. I’m not your responsibility. You don’t owe me anything.”

I slid on my shoes and picked up the gym bag. Taking a cautious step towards him, I placed my right hand on his chest, gently patting the center of it.

“Thank you.”

I met his gaze, assuring him of my sincerity.

When I went to step away, he snagged my hand. He closed his eyes, taking several deep breaths. His expression transformed from one of anger to that of pain, and it tore me up inside. I cared about him. Knowing he saved me only further endeared me to him, but I couldn’t do this. Being so close to him had hope attempting to bloom. Staying would only feed my fairytale and lead to a messier heartbreak. He didn’t want me and my excessive curves; he merely felt obligated to protect me, probably because, like me, he didn’t have a family.

I didn’t care why. My thoughts were overrun with fear. The professional lines were gone in his home, and that had me feeling weak. I wanted him. I wished I could just reach out, grab him and pull him down to kiss me. I craved the feel of him against me, the press of his hard to my soft, and that was dangerous. It was too easy to elaborate on my dreams now that I’d been in his bed. It was a rabbit hole I could fall down too easily this close to him, to every delicious inch of him.

Crap. I knew I liked him, but I didn’t realize how much until today. When had he grabbed hold of my heart so snugly? We’d barely scratched the surface in conversation at the coffee shop.

And that made this all the more dangerous. Despite saving me, he wasn’t safe for me. He could be a detriment far greater than Darren, and potentially as painful as the loss of my mother if I didn’t act now. My anxiety seemed to multiply. I needed to get away now. My hand itched to curl around his, to hold him in return. And that proved it. That proved just how weak I was, how perilous the situation was.

Suddenly, he let go of me, most of the tension falling away with my hand.

“I’m sorry.”

He looked straight at me. Taking a step back, he arched his hands, as if to stretch them.

“I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

When I didn’t reply, he pursed his lips, some of his upset returning.

“Or you can use my phone to call someone.”

This was what I’d wanted: an escape option. It’s what I’d been on the verge of a panic attack for a minute ago. So why was my heart breaking, cracking and crumbling like I was losing my best friend? My chest clenched, my lungs constricted as I gazed silently at him. Regardless of what I chose, I knew things would never be the same again. I preferred to rip the Band-Aid off clean, in one strike, but I didn’t know his address. Somehow, it seemed easier to let him take me than to call Tiff and wait who knew how long for her to arrive.

“If you wouldn’t mind taking me home, I’d appreciate it.”

Without hesitation, he nodded his head in agreement. He disappeared into his bedroom for a moment, returning with a pair of white sneakers on. Wordlessly, he took the gym bag from me, picked up his cell phone off of the island, snatched a set of keys off a rack mounted above the counter near the door, and led me to the garage.

The silence continued as he opened the passenger door and helped me in, checking that the buckle was secure before going around to his side. The hush remained all the way through town and even when he parked in front of my apartment building.

I half-expected him to immediately leap out and come to my side, but he didn’t.

“Thanks, for everything.”

I unbuckled. My heart fell slightly when he made no moves to help me. It wasn’t that I needed it, but it was nice being taken care of, even in the smallest of ways. Without realizing it, I’d already formed a dependency upon him. I’d allow him to fill this tiny hole that my mother used to, the space belonging to family.

He stared straight ahead out the windshield. He gripped the steering wheel harshly, his knuckles white as snow. A tick was visible in his jaw. He was angry.

Climbing out of the vehicle, I forced one foot in front of the other, not allowing myself to look back, no matter how badly I wanted to.

Walking up the stairs to my second floor unit, I dug in the bag until I found my keys. Stepping inside my apartment, I glanced around. Everything was the same, looked the same, and yet everything was different.

In a little over twelve hours, everything had changed.