Page 39 of Look My Way (Bloody Desires #1)

Liam

This feels too good to be true. I keep expecting to wake up at any moment to Zavier being nowhere in sight. Doing everything he can to ensure that won’t happen, he gives me lots of attention all morning in bed and washes me thoroughly in the shower in between making me come.

He touches me constantly while loading the truck and before we reach our first stop for snacks. I probably grab way too many things with sugar in them, but he doesn’t object to any of my choices, mentioning that taffy is one of his favorites too.

“You going to get anything other than a Diet Pepsi?” I ask as we’re checking out.

“I think you’ve got enough junk food for the both of us.

” He winks, resting a hand on my back, and I laugh, unable to get enough of him touching me.

He rests so much weight on me, like I can handle it.

Because I can. And when I need to be reminded of how much, all I have to do is give him one look and lead his fingers to where I want him to grab.

Daniel hurt me to control me, but I call the shots when Zavier does, and he never goes overboard.

It’s also never done to weaken me or keep me in my place.

It’s the complete opposite with him. His kisses aren’t to prove a point either, and they don’t ever feel threatening.

He likes putting his lips on me and only keeps doing it when he knows I want more. I always want more.

He’s like a drug, and often I ask myself if this is healthy, letting the question roll off my shoulders when he offers me his hand.

Who cares when it all feels this good. He wants me and looks at me every chance he gets.

I like him watching me. As we’re walking back to the car, I walk ahead, feeling his eyes on me.

Sparks shoot up my spine and I move faster, focusing on his loud steps and penetrating gaze.

It’s so heavy and addictive. When I turn around, he looks down at his hand and I smile, facing ahead again.

My legs pick up speed, not stopping until I reach the truck.

My hand reaches for the door, and I lift my head, expecting him to be on the other side of it, but he isn’t anywhere I can see.

Except I know he’s there. It’s like a sixth sense. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up and my heart is beating erratically.

My bottom lip slips between my teeth and I wipe my sweaty palm on my jeans, opening the truck door.

I move my head from side to side, working my eyes around me before climbing in.

I still can’t see him. My heart lifts and drops, my stomach flipping.

The door slams at the pull of my hand and I tug on my seat belt.

When I spin my ahead around, there he is.

All I see are his eyes and hat, the rest of his face hiding behind another vehicle.

Those deep brown irises are unmistakable, and so is how intensely he looks at me, narrowing his eyes and taking me all in.

My breaths stutter and my mouth goes dry, cock stiffening.

Adjusting myself in my pants, I keep my eyes on his until a car honks nearby causing me to avert my gaze.

Jumping in my seat, I press my back to it and laugh.

Shaking my head, I fumble with my belt and bounce in my seat again when the door on the driver’s side opens.

“Hey, carino.”

“Hey yourself. Where’d you come from?” I lean one side of my body against the door looking smug.

“Oh, just around.” His lips wrinkle and he gets into the truck in one swoop, handing me my bag. “I had to make a trip to the bathroom.”

“I see. Is that what happened?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Yup,” he says, shifting in his seat as he starts the engine. “Ready to finish the rest of our trip?”

“Yeah. I hate sitting for too long.” Mostly because I did it a lot whenever Daniel was home. He’d convince me I was dizzy or tired and blame my headaches on my symptoms and medication side effects. It was him. His hands caused them. They haven’t randomly sprung up on me since he hasn’t been around.

How could I have been so stupid and blind? I wanted to be loved so badly by someone who accepted at least most of me. I didn’t want to settle for less, but somehow did anyway, telling myself it wouldn’t get better than that.

He was okay with me getting sick a lot. He was okay with me working from home and didn’t stop me from living my dream job.

He supported my plant habit and told me how much he loved me all the time.

I needed more but convinced myself I didn’t.

I wasn’t only in an unfulfilling relationship . . . I was in an abusive one.

I thought he saw me and accepted me for who I was.

I was wrong. He made me who he wanted me to be—someone to control.

And I fell right into his trap. Why me? Why did he have to choose me?

Why did I have to let him be my first relationship, losing sight of what someone who loves you is supposed to look like?

“If you need to stretch your legs at any point, just let me know,” Zavier says, bringing me back to where I want to be.

“I should be okay. It’s not too much more of a drive, is it?”

“No. Less than an hour. You hungry for real food yet?”

“Not yet.” I look down at my hands, then my eyes travel to where he’s squeezing the wheel. Smiling softly, he lays his hand on my lap with his palm facing up, and I eagerly lay mine on top. “My sister is supposed to be making lunch around one.”

“We should be there just in time, then.” His gaze is back on the road. “What’s she making?”

“Not tuna.” I give him a pointed stare. “She hates the stuff too.”

Chuckling, his fingers squeeze around mine. “That’s good to know. At least I know we’ll have one thing in common.” He shoots me a look, sunglasses sliding a little down his nose, and I laugh, straightening out my legs.

“She fell asleep during the last half of The Lake House too.”

“Hey now . . . I had a very good excuse for that at least. Someone wore me out during the first half.” He gives me a side glance, lips pressing into a grin.

“Yeah, yeah. Well, it’s all your fault for wanting to have naked movie time. You’ve seen how hot you are.”

He scoffs. “Not nearly as hot as you.” His hand briefly lifts away from mine to pinch my cheek, and I nudge my elbow into his arm. My phone goes off again and I groan when Daniel’s name shows up.

“Why don’t you block him?” Zavier gives a quick glance at the screen.

“Because I still need to end things.”

“Or you can let him figure it all out on his own by continuing to ignore him. When we get back, you can even hire someone to change your locks.”

“Yeah, I could.” Rubbing between my brows, I read over his last message, not bothering with the ones before.

Daniel: Are you mad at me, baby? If so, talk to me about it. Let me know how I can make it right. We’re supposed to take a trip to see your family, remember? Don’t you still want to do that?

My stomach churns. Why am I feeling guilty? He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve any kind of sympathy or kindness. He’s done so many fucked-up things, and here I am still feeling in the wrong.

“What’s wrong?” Zavier’s hand moves to my thigh, rubbing his palm in gentle circles.

“Nothing . . . I—”

“Is he making you feel like you did something wrong? Because you didn’t.” He pulls over to the side of the road and as soon as the car stops, he pulls my face closer to his. “It’s not you who’s the problem, okay? It’s all him. Don’t let him get to you. His words mean nothing.”

I once thought they meant everything, but Zavier’s right. They mean nothing. He’s nothing. I should never have let things between us get this far. I was vulnerable and he was drawn to me like a moth to a flame.

“I know,” I finally say. “I . . . I don’t know why I let him get to me.”

“He’s conditioned you, sweetheart. It’s going to take a while to fully heal from the damage he’s caused. If you need me to take you back home—”

“No.” My eyes snap to his. “I want to see my family. I need to see them. I also don’t want to be home.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” I parrot him, one side of my lips turning up. “Want to listen to some music?”

“Sure. Show me what you like.” The truck swerves back onto the road, tires squealing against the pavement.

And I do show him. I play various songs for the remainder of our drive, telling him which ones I like best. Some of my favorites are his too, and we’re both singing at the top of our lungs to “Lovesong” by The Cure as we arrive in front of my sister’s house.

The truck goes quiet seconds after we park, and I squeeze Zavier’s hand while also tugging on my seat belt. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous. This is my family.”

“It’s been a while, so it’s understandable.”

“Yeah,” I say, even if it’s way more than that. What if they hate me for staying away for so long? What if they feel like I’ve chosen Daniel over them? Because haven’t I, in a way?

“I’m right here. I’ll be here the whole time. They’re going to be over the moon when they see you.” He sounds so sure of himself with his comforting smile.

“You really think so?”

“Based on how happy she was to hear from you over the phone? Yes. She also wouldn’t have invited you if she didn’t want you here.” Zavier dips his head, his eyes grabbing hold of mine. “She wants you here, carino. Your family wants you here.”

Sucking my teeth, I hit the button on the belt and push open the car door. Zavier jumps out, meeting me on the other side by the time I step onto the pavement. He doesn’t stick out his hand but walks side by side with me so it’s easily in reach as we approach the house.

After I lift my hand and lower it several times, Zavier rubs my back, and his eyes are full of encouragement as he guides my hand forward. His fingers hold on to my wrist, giving me the courage I need to finally knock.

The door quickly opens before I can hit it a third time and Tabitha is smiling on the other side. “Liam. You’re here.”

“I am.” Clenching my jaw, my arms hang low at my sides, unsure what they should be doing.