“So why do you wear it?”
I shrug. “I make up stories about my mum; I have most of my life. In them she’s perfect, of course. The truth is Oscar never liked talking about her. I think that’s a good thing. It has to mean that he loved her so much it’s unbearable to go back to those memories. Oscar said the ruby is from Burma, or Myanmar now, and it’s older than the history of the Stone Age. Some people believe rubies are a protective stone and that they turn darkwhen danger looms, returning to their natural color after the threat is gone.”
Theo’s forehead wrinkles as he chews on the inside of his cheek. It’s his thoughtful look, a little different from his pissed off look, which also involves a wrinkled brow with clenched teeth. “So, no cell phone, no computer…”
I laugh. “I was regimented. It was the most obsessive illusion of control. Up at five for my run. Shower. Breakfast alongside my computer. I traveled the world inside of a keyboard and a screen. Social media. Email. Texting. I wasconnected. I knew about things that were going to happen before they happened. There was no boundary that I couldn’t cross. It was always a matter of whether Ichoseto cross it.
“Some of the people who hired me wore suits that cost more than the average person’s car. They looked the part. But it wasmewho had the control. Little Scarlet Stone at her computer with sticky keys and a dusty screen, wearing a threadbare shirt, leggings, and soft, fuzzy socks, hair in a ponytail, no makeup, and vintage Rod Stewart flowing from my speakers.”
“Doesn’t sound like an illusion of control.”
I nod, gazing at him with a blank stare, seeing only the past six months flash through my mind. “It was. The day the doctor told me I was going to die… that’s when I realized the world would go on without me. I realized I controlled nothing, not even my body. And sitting in my flat, in front of a computer all day? It was the epitome of disconnect. People don’t focus on the moment or give their undivided attention to the person sitting right in front of them. We see words and pictures on screens. The art of conversation is gone. Hell, we don’t even write complete words. Life is a series of abbreviations, acronyms, and emoticons. Alcohol is stress relief instead of a toast of celebration. It’s just…”
“Fucked-up.”
“Yes.” I sprawl onto his stomach and press my lips to his, ending with a grin. “I’m not sure I can shun technology forever. But it’s this mad addiction, maybe a lethal one. The longer I can stay unplugged, the better.”
“When’s the last time you used a cell phone?”
“Well, I didn’t technically use it, but I touched Nolan’s mobile.”
“What? Like you had totouchit?”
“Well, since you asked,” because I’ve been dying to have this conversation, “he showed me a YouTube video of this band called The Derby. The bloke on guitar melted my knickers right there on the spot.”
Theo’s brows raise as his hands grip my bare arse. “Nothing good can come of you watching that.”
I bite his lower lip. His fingers dig into my skin. There’s nothing I want more than to crawl inside of this man and spend eternity piecing together what I have no doubt is an ineffable masterpiece.
Dragging my teeth along his lip, I smile. “Respectfully, I disagree. But…” I twist some of his hair around my finger “…my love affair with the devastatingly handsome guitarist is over. I don’t have access to YouTube and he’s…”
Wow… my emotions fall somewhere between harrowing and utterly suffocating. The ones that gobble up every bit of oxygen and leave my true feelings stuck inside to drown my spirit.
Theo’s hands whisper along my skin then cradle my head, bringing us nose to nose. “He’sgoing to miss you every damn day. The way you smell like girly shit. The way you fuck up every word with your fancy accent. The way everything about you seeps into my space and fills it with a life I didn’t ask for—a life I never needed—a life I now want so bad I’d rather die than not have it.”
“Don’t die,” I whisper, looking into his red-rimmed eyes as my tears fall to his face.
“Don’t die,” he whispers back to me a breath before we kiss like there really are no words left to say.
He rolls us until I’m beneath him. Brand me, Theodore Reed. Don’t you dare go slow and easy. Everything about us has been cataclysmic. Every touch so explosive it’s impossible to know if we’re beginning or ending. Imprint this moment so deep into my soul that in my next life Ifeelyou long before we ever meet.
“Ugh!” I cry when he penetrates me—brands me—in the only way he knows how.
Angry.
Forceful.
Unapologetic.
The most poignant observation I’ve made over the past six months, that I failed to see over the previous thirty-one years, is that there is nothing morephenomenalthan one human’s addiction to another—and there is nothing moredevastatingthan one human’s addiction to another.
As Theo leaves his final mark on me, all I feel is this phenomenal devastation.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
My name is Scarlet Stone, and one day I will break away from the shadows of the man who raised me. Until then—I will make him proud.
Six months ago,I left Daniel with a note. We said all there was to say and by the time he woke the next morning, I was gone. The way he kissed me, the way we made love… it was goodbye and we both knew it.
