Heading across the small distance to the clubhouse I pull out my phone. I’ve been wanting to text Danika for a while and maybe now’s the time. I write out the message and then delete it. I do that about five times before finally typing something and hitting fucking send.
ME:Heading to the Fallen Star with the crew. You wanna go?
What the fuck am I doing? This is dumb. But just as I’m about to slip my phone away, it vibrates.
Danika:I was wondering when you’d finally text me. Getting ready now to head over there with the girls.
She was waiting for me to text her.
My fingers start moving but then I erase the words. I’m actually fucking nervous texting her. Like a damn kid in highschool. I rub my hand down my face with a grunt. This is more than just nerves—there’s a slight tick of excitement and it’s been so damn long. A feeling I didn’t know I missed.
I shut out the pain, letting myself forget.
Just. This. Once.
Without time to head home, I know I still have clothes upstairs, so I head there and stop as I take in Danika’s lingering vanilla scent outside the hall. Shadows move every now and again with noises under the door.
With a deep inhale, I knock.
When it creeps open, her beauty slams into me like a brick to the face. My eyes can’t help but trace over every single part of her, from her curled hair that lays perfectly over her shoulders, to her dark eyeshadow that makes her blue eyes pop like the deep ocean. The tight tank top underneath a loose sweater and jeans hugs her like a dream. She’s curvier than I remember. Not the trauma made skin and bones from when I first saw her back at the warehouse.
“Do I look okay?” She anxiously looks down at herself worried my staring meant she doesn’t look good.
My eyes shoot to hers. “You’re perfect.”
She stills, the tiniest bob from her swallow moves the delicate skin of her throat. “Oh… thank you,” she whispers and heat flares through my veins. “Sorry I took over your room. It’s all yours now.”
“I told you, it’s yours for as long as you need it to be.”
She smiles. “I’m going back to my apartment, I just—”
I reach out and lay a hand on her waist, an action we both look shocked by. But I don’t let go, instead, I give a little squeeze of reassurance. “Stay. Don’t go back.”
We hold our stares. “You’ve been really kind, but I’ve already talked to my roommate, and I’ll be moving back soon. Her boyfriend won’t be bothering me.”
At least her roommate is taking Danika’s side. All I do is nod because the tight squeeze in the pit of my stomach is enough to silence me.
She glances back inside. “I can wait if you want to ride together.”
I drop my hand from her already missing the way she feels under my palm. “Okay.”
She lets out a shaky breath and steps aside allowing me to pass, brushing the side of her body along the way. I close my eyes because a single touch is sending me into this unexplainable spiral.
But she does that to me.
Every time.
Danika
The sound of the shower takes over the background while I study the books on Hush’s shelves. I’ve been here two weeks, and I have yet to peek at what Liem likes to read.
I run a finger along the leather spines of each classic novel includingRomeo and Juliet, Anna Karenina, and The Wings of the Dove.I’m not entirely familiar but looking up each one, they’re about tragic love loss and mental health in some form.
It’s a sorrowful pain I can’t deny. How bad is Liem hurting? After telling me about Gracie, it was a lot to process because I thought I made it up in my head. There’d be no way for the same woman who imprinted on my life in such a way I cannever forget, belonged to Liem. It’s the craziest most delusional concept, except it’s true. Sheisthe same woman. A part of me hates it. My stomach turns sour knowing they were together. She got to experience his joy. His sadness. His everything. And that absolutely destroys me. But then I remember she’s no longer here and it’s the reason for Hush’s suffering. I need to put my selfish feelings on hold because it’s not about me. Yet, how can I feel so connected to both of them?
A tear falls and I quickly swipe it away as the door opens to the bathroom. Hush wears only a towel secured around his waist, his hard muscles, and tattoos on full display.
Holy hell.
