But he was a someday wish that became never, which I accepted. Until he went and flirted and nicknamed me and told me I hadn’t imagined any of the heat between us. He answered my texts and flew to find me. He kissed me and made me feel things and brought stars to my eyes. I’ve been in love with this man foryears, but it was fictious love that could have been tucked away. He breathed new life into it.
A month ago, I would have afforded him room to waltz around his feelings, hoping they’d solidify with time. But frankly, I’m over shit. And I don’t care if it’s reasonable.
My heart is already shattered at the thought of not being a Noire. Whether Ty meant to or not, he dangled the idea of being his in front of me. If he snatches it away because of my brothers, I’ll freaking lose it.
He’s not the only one harboring a crazed side of themselves. And when people have nothing left to lose, they’re either free or insane.
Based on how I’m currently feeling, I’m betting on the latter for myself.
Stepping back, he throws some space between us, staring at me with a cocktail of confusion and conviction. “I can’t be here and be concerned for all of you? You love them. Would you really respect someone who claimed to be their friend and cared nothing about how they were tormented over you missing?”
He’s not feeding me lines. They’re bits of wisdom. Ty sees the world in stark clarity, cataloging everyone’s pain and absorbing it. There’s no winning here.
“No, I wouldn’t.” I drop to the bed, swipe a butterscotch candy off the nightstand, and rub my thumb over the foil wrapper. Tears prick my eyes because I get it now—hurting them hurts me, and it’s all a convoluted mess in his head. “It really does make whatever this is between us more complicated than I realized. Take your shower. I won’t leave.”
He exhales sharply, hands on his hips as he turns away from me. “I can’t.”
“I will not leave this room while you’re showering. I’m not in the habit of making promises I don’t keep. And not showering isn’t an option after three hours of working out.” I peer at him beneaththe fringe of my lashes, hoping to conceal the heartbreak I’m nursing. “Leave the door open if you don’t trust me. I’ll stay in bed.”
When he twists back to me, his Adam’s apple bobs on a swallow that is equal measures of burning desire and apprehension. So, to sweeten the deal, I climb under the covers and pull a pillow over my face, drifting off a few minutes later to the melody of the battering water.
RENA
The house is stunning. Perched high above the city, it has breathtaking views in every direction. The Strip, Vegas Valley, and the mountains. The outside walls are all glass pocket doors that slide inside the wall, providing indoor-outdoor living. Not a bad seat in the house.
And the finishes are all top of the line. Marble and stone and wood. Every amenity imaginable. But the excitement I want to feel hovers out of reach. Like I can’t quite touch it.
We finished a late dinner, and now, I’m outside on the massive lanai—moonlit mountain view, crisp and dry air, blanket of twinkling stars, firepit, hot tub, pool. Peaceful. I’m rolling a joint with the weed and papers I stole from Jax.
Ty lowers himself into the chair beside me. “What are you doing?”
My eyes flit to his. “Getting high.”
He smirks, which seems in contrast to whatever he’s truly feeling. He’s a master of disguise more than I ever realized. “Do youalways sleep till noon, take two-hour naps, ignore people, and end your day with a joint?”
I have been ignoring him, I suppose, but I don’t admit to that. “Are you always so judgmental?”
His fingers brush over mine before I flick the lighter on, causing a slight flinch in my hand. He meets my flinch with a wince.
We’re a fucking mess.
“I’m worried about you.” His words are unrefined honesty, but I can’t quite grasp those either. “We haven’t talked about what’s going on, why you ran from your brothers, what made you upset that day in the hallway. I wasn’t being judgmental. You’re obviously depressed. You were drunk the other night, and now this. It’s not what you’re doing. It’s why. Tell me the real reason you’re checked out and getting high.”
He’s so heartbreakingly beautiful here in the moonlight—all strong jaw and glistening eyes, compassionate spirit and reigning demons. I wish I had it in me to pretend. To conceal the torch I’ve been holding for him. But I’m tired of delusions. If it’s finally going to be smothered, let the ashes fucking rain.
Maybe it’s a gift to mourn both who I’mnotand whose I can never be in one fell swoop.
“Because I’m good at reading people, and you’re going to shatter my heart, so I’d like to be high when you do it.” My voice is so detached. Another thing I can’t reel in.
He leans forward, elbows braced on his knees, fingers kneading his forehead, a rebellious curl flopping to his temple. “That’s the last thing I want to do. I’m trying to take care of you. To keep you safe. To handle this with respect for everyone involved.”
And there it is again. The barrier of the Noire brothers. A blockade that will always be there. This trip is nothing but a prison. I’ve lost the prestige of being a Noire, but not the shackles.
“I’m tired of people handling me.” I suck in a hit, holding it in before blowing out the plume of smoke slowly. “And I’m heavy today.”
He snags the joint, surprising me by pulling his own drag and returning it. I don’t think he smokes. This shit will mess him up.
“What can I do?” Such a genuine question from a genuine guy.
