Muscles for days.
For days.
And I can’t stop staring at every ridge and edge and valley that carves up his torso, the V that points to the waist band of his pants and the dark trail of hair that travels from his navel downwards. Scars, so many scars, silver with age but a contrast to the olive complexion of his skin. There’s a smattering of hair across his chest and ropes of veins that protrude from his forearms.
“Like what you see?” His deep, rasping voice breaks the trance.
“You’re not bad to look at, I suppose,” I cross my arms over my chest, hoping for nonchalance though I can feel my heart pounding something fierce behind my ribcage.
A grin tugs up his mouth though it is far from kind, “You suppose?”
“I only came here because you’re ignoring me.” Ichange the subject.
“Is that so?” He plucks up his coffee mug and brings it to his lips and it’s then I notice the paint on his fingers, a mix of reds, whites and greys.
“Yes,” I tilt my chin up, “We should talk about it.”
One dark smudge of a brow lifts, “I’m not sure you understand, Savannah.” His head cocks to the side, “I didn’t reply because I don’t want to talk to you.”
A sharp, pang of pain bursts inside my chest and I flinch at his words, “What the fuck did I ever do to you!?” I yell suddenly, heat encompassing my entire body.
He doesn’t seem fazed by my outburst as his eyes steadily roll down me but then he places his coffee cup down and takes a step toward me.
I take a step back.
With every step he moves closer, I retreat until a wall hits my back and he’s towering in front of me, looking down his nose.
His hand lifts to capture a tendril of hair which weaves between his fingers, all the while my heart is beating like a thousand galloping horses.
Dark eyes bounce around my face, his expression cold, and then he drops my hair and puts his hand on the wall, holding himself as he leans in so close his breath fans across mylips.
My stomach knots with anticipation, toes curling inside my sneakers as I wait for his next move. I can feel his heat pressing against my own skin, and he gets so close, close enough our noses touch and I’m sure he’s about to kiss me.
I wet my bottom lip, my breath stalling in my throat.
“You want to know what you did?” He asks on a whisper, the gravel in his tone scraping against every nerve.
“Yes.” I breathe.
His eyes drop to my lips before lifting again, so dark they seem endless but then he speaks, and it’s like ice cold water has been thrown over me.
“You exist,” He says and pushes himself away, turning his back to me.
Chapter Eleven
Iturn to her as pain and humiliation twist her face, her cheeks brightening with color before her eyes fill with tears. I lean my hip on the counter and bring my now cold coffee to my lips, draining the rest of it.
It’s best she thinks I hate her. Best she thinks it’s her existence that irks me rather than the fact that she’s an obsession I cannot keep track of. It grows and climbs and expands with every fucking second, I can never find the beginning of it or the end. There are roots inside of me, buried so deep there’s no way to rid myself of the problem.
Fucking coming in my damn pants when her sweet little body rubbed up against me is one thing but now she’s here, reminding me of how it felt. In those tightas fuck blue jeans, the denim clinging to her every curve with her white tee tucked and long blonde hair left down.
So damn pretty. Entirely too young and completely off limits.
Perhaps if Sebastian wasn’t her brother and my best friend, I could let the ten-year age gap go but this is the card I have been dealt with.
“You’re a fucking asshole,” She hisses at me, swatting angrily at the tears dropping down her pink cheeks.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” I grumble, glancing to the window to see rain pelting against it, the sky dark and ominous as the storm is fully unleashed. I hadn’t even noticed one rolling in.
