“I’ve already talked to your mother about this. I’ll pay for your plane ticket, and, of course, I’d pick you up from the airport. What do you think?” he added, sounding enthused, and I paused to consider his offer.
Neil still hadn’t responded to my text and had just cut off our conversation, as was his style. He always had to be the one making the decisions. Sometimes, I could appreciate the domineering part of him, while other times I detested it.
Still, I could choose to go back to New York. Not just for Matt but also for a chance to see Neil again.
I blushed.
The real question was, would he want to see me again?
We would be sharing a house and a family again. Our relationship had taken a firmly negative turn after the car crash, though, so maybe going back wasn’t the best choice. I didn’t want to be all over him—I didn’t want to smother or suffocate him. I knew how he was: Neil was a free spirit, firmly independent and rebellious.
He would have fled from me again and that wasn’t what I wanted, but… I hadn’t said anything yet about Player being behind the crash. I wasn’t sure what to do about that and when or if to tell anyone.
“Selene? Are you still there?” Matt’s voice jolted me, and I cleared my throat.
“Yeah,” I said, sounding uncertain. I didn’t want to go back to New York or set foot in my father’s mansion again. Yet, the thought of seeing Neil’s golden eyes again, of getting to smell him and feel his presence in the room next to me, was a kick in the chest so powerful that it made me gasp for air.
I needed something to hold on to so I didn’t just give in to the lightning-fast feeling of fatigue that rendered my whole body weak whenever I merely recalled the feeling of his hands on me, his brazen mouth, his fiery passion, his dominance…
“So, are you coming?” my father insisted, wary of my silence. Meanwhile, I was trying to reconnect with reality. I should have refused; my answershould have been a decisive “no.” I couldn’t live with Neil, not now that I’d realized I had real feelings for him. I would have to hear or see it every time he brought Jennifer or one of his other blonds to his room, and then I’d be miserable and crying again.
No.
I shook my head rapidly.
I couldn’t go back there.
Except…didn’t I say I could handle someone like him?
Yes, I did. But the fear often came back to torment me.
I was afraid of what I felt when he looked at me or when he touched me in that confident, expert way of his. I was afraid of the things I felt even at just the sound of his voice.
Thus, my internal struggle between reason and feeling began.
Then, instinct won out.
“O-okay,” I agreed.
***
I was nervous—terribly nervous—at the thought of seeing Neil again.
Ever since I accepted Matt’s offer, I’d done nothing but think about Neil all the time.
I saw him in my head as clearly as if he were actually standing in front of me. I’d never be able to forget those mysterious eyes, especially not after our encounter on the beach.
I felt like I’d been stripped of all my certainty, left vulnerable and weak.
Weak when it came to him.
Neil really had become an obsession for me, his face a marvelous fantasy that ebbed and flowed like waves on the sea. The memory of him was a slow, constant torment, a sad yet passionate nostalgia that dulled and obscured all other thoughts until I had no space left in my head for anything but him.
Mixed in with all of that was the guilt I felt toward my family. Whenever I remembered that Neil was practically my stepbrother, I knew just how wrong it was to want to kiss him. But that wanting, that mental image, was like a wild storm that blew through my days with its fury and rendered allmy other worries small, because just the thought of him became a constant rumble that I wanted to banish.
I spent the five days before I left at the mercy of these feelings.
Five goddamned days of thinking about making up some excuse to avoid going to see Matt only to inevitably change my mind again.
