His words burrow their way under my skin. As I take off in search of Colin, I can’t stop thinking about what Pierce said. Do I have a soft spot for Colin? Could I ever truly be the Dom he needs if I’m not willing to control him?
When I don’t find him in his room or mine, I collapse on the chaise lounge in my studio. Doubts swirl in my mind as I beg it not to go to that dark place where I’ve already lost everything and where nothing is worth fighting for anymore.
Because when Colin doesn’t show, that is what it feels like.
While I wait, I wonder if I’ve done enough. Did I make him believe how much I’ve changed? How much I love him? Did I give Colin the peace of mind he so desperately needs?
Every passing hour feels like a heavy wave crashing over me, pulling me deeper and deeper out to sea. Before long, the sun begins to fight its way through the thick clouds and heavy rain, and I realize that whatever I did, it wasn’t enough.
Maybe if I had told him I loved him sooner, things would have worked out.
Maybe if I had been vulnerable when it mattered, he would have shown up to my room.
But then again, maybe if I had never messed it up in the first place, everything would be different.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Colin
Seven years ago
Barclay Manor
“Holy shit, Declan,” I mumble as he leads me through yet another hallway in his giant manor of a house. “This place is amazing.”
He laughs. “Doesn’t your dad have like two mansions?”
I shrug. “Yeah, but they’re not old and cool like this.”
His chuckles feel forced as he keeps his back to me. Something is different about Declan this year. He seems more guarded, as if he’s holding something in.
I hate that. I wish he’d just open up to me. Let me in.
“Show me your room,” I say, wrapping my arms around him from behind. He links his fingers with mine.
“Oh really?” he asks, peering at me over his shoulder. “So you’re done with the tour already?”
“I still want a tour,” I reply. “I just want it to start with your room. Specifically, your bed.”
He hooks his hands under my thighs and hoists me off the floor and onto his back. I laugh in his ear as he carries me to his room.
When we get there, everything is great, but everything is offat the same time. There are nogood boysand talk of possession. He doesn’t force me to my knees and make me feel like I belong to him.
The sex is good like it always is. We tear our clothes off in a frenzy, devouring each other like we’ve both been starved, but he doesn’t look me in the eyes like he normally does. When he enters me, he buries his face in my neck and fucks me like he needs it—not like he needsme. His pleasure is laced with pain, and his fingers interlace with mine painfully as he drives me into the mattress.
It’s heated and wonderful until we’re both coming loudly and collapsing in a satisfied heap on the bed. But it’s different, and that plants a seed of worry in my gut.
I’m lying on his chest, softly toying with the dark patch of hair, and I can’t stop thinking about how we ended things last year. In fact, it’s been gnawing at me all year. The way we both clearly expressed how we want different things.
Declan isn’t interested in a relationship, and I understand.
But I’m afraid he thinks it’s the relationship that’s important to me. All I really want is him. And not only eight days a year. I need him in the fall and winter. Over the holidays and on my birthday in the spring. I want Declan involved in every big moment of my life and not just a text message or a phone call.
I guess thatisa relationship, isn’t it?
Round and round we go.
“What do you want to do this week?” I ask, lifting up to stare at him.
