“You can, honey. Fuck, I can be there in twenty minutes.”
“I’ll be asleep by then,” I say quietly, because that’s exactly what I’m going to do right now. “Breakfast.”
She exhales. “Are you sure I can’t go over?”
“Just meet me there at nine-thirty.”
“I’ll be there.”
I rush out of the bathroom, set it to charge on the nightstand beside me, turn off the light, and close my eyes. My body is exhausted, inside and out. For a moment, I think I won’t be able to fall asleep, but I doze off before he comes back.
CHAPTER31
LACHLAN
I haven’t even beenaround her for a full day, and this is already fucking me up more than I care to admit. She was sleeping when I walked back into the room, and I barely slept, trying to make sure I didn’t move to her side of the bed and throw an arm around her. It’s not like I want to do that, but I think my body would betray me and do it without my consent. She’s the last woman I slept with — truly just slept with. Theonlywoman. That realization is jarring. For years, I’ve played out the scenes in my head of how things would go when I saw her again. None of them involved me sitting in a chair in the corner of her bedroom, watching her sleep. For an hour. Like a creep. At least the chair is comfortable. I bet she always sleeps in it, curling up in a ball like she likes to do. I pick up the throw that rests over the chair, inhale her scent on it, and drop it when I realize what I’m fucking doing.
A faint glow comes through her curtains, and I can see her well enough in the dim room. She’s so fucking beautiful. Is it possible that she’s more beautiful now than she was then? I swear she is. She makes me want to strangle her. She makes me want to fuck the shit out of her. She makes me want to strangle her while I fuck the shit out of her and make her come screaming my name. It’s incomprehensible that after everything she’s put me through, she could still hold this much power over me.
When she stirs, I pick up my phone to check my emails. It’s what I should have been doing for the last hour. When her phone starts buzzing on the nightstand a moment later, I think better of it and hit the side button on my phone. She has no idea I’m here. I’ll watch her a little longer to see what she does next. I’ve already wasted a chunk of my life doing this. I can watch her for ten more minutes. At first, I think it’s an alarm she set, but she reaches over and swipes the screen without even looking at it. That minor action fucks with me. It means she’d answer anyone who has that number.
“Yeah.” Her voice is raspy, the way it is when she first wakes up.
My dick instantly gets hard. Harder.Fuck. I swear she conditioned my body to react this way. Her raspy voice in the morning? Instant hard-on. Her bitchy attitude? Instant hard-on. The way she smiles at me? Instant hard-on. The conviction in her words when she speaks about her soccer abilities? Instant hard-on. The fire in her eyes when she’s turned on? That’s an obvious one. She’s turned me into a fucking lab rat in a B.F. Skinner study, for fuck’s sake.I really need to get my shit together.
“Yeah, I know. I told you I’d be there.” She throws an arm over her face. “Yes. I’ll be there too, I’m not irresponsible.” She’s quiet for a moment. “Of course, we can walk there together. No, he won’t. He wouldn’t do that. It’ll be fine.” She sits up quickly, her sheets rustling. “Did you call me to remind me about breakfast or to question me like I’m a fucking suspect in a crime?”
I bite my tongue at her snappy tone. Fuck. She doesn’t even say goodbye; she just hangs up. I almost smile, but then I remember that he has her number and I don’t. Well, Ido, but she hasn’t given it to me. She tosses her phone on the bed carelessly and gasps when she remembers that I may be lying there. She presses a hand to the area I’m supposed to be in. I can’t tell if she’s disappointed or relieved that I’m not there, and that, of course, pisses me off.
“Looking for me?”
She screams, scrambling back and hitting the headboard with a hand on her heart. “Jesus Christ, Lachlan! What the hell?”
I get up and open the blinds, squinting against the harsh sunlight. Lyla doesn’t even let me get a word in. She throws the covers off, gets out of bed, and heads to the bathroom before I even have a chance to make it back to the chair. I hear the toilet flush, the faucet turn on and off, and the shower start running.
I wonder if she realizes she didn’t take any clothes with her. She’s probably used to walking around naked. I shut my eyes and take a breath.Do notpicture her naked right now. If I start, I’ll do something stupid, and I can’t afford to fuck her. I’m definitely going to. I’ll need to jerk off a few times before, so I don’t come in a second. That’s how long it’s been. Still, soon we’ll have a marriage to consummate. I try really hard to focus on emails again, and then try even harder not to picture myself walking into the bathroom and fucking her against the shower wall.
The water turns off, and sure enough, a minute later, she opens the door wrapped in a towel. I should look away. A decent man might, but she took my decency with her when she left me lying in a hospital bed three years ago. She walks into the closet, grabs underwear and a sports bra, and sets it on top of the built-in drawer. She turns and locates some clothes and places them with the underwear. I wait for her to pick them up and go to the bathroom, but instead, she drops her towel. My jaw drops along with it.
She doesn’t look at me, but I know she knows I’m watching. I take in her naked form. I thought I was hard before, but this is. . .too fucking much. I want to free my cock and jerk off to this visual. I will, later, but the urge to do it now is strong. It’s either that or go over there and bite her ass, her thighs, her tits, and her mouth, which will inevitably lead to her pussy, which will lead to sex, and that’s not going to happen yet. She finishes getting dressed, puts her feet into a pair of slides, grabs socks and cleats, and walks out of the closet and the room.
She doesn’t look at me or acknowledge me once. It pisses me off, but I give her this. I invaded her life and am about to uproot it. I’m taking her back to a place I know she’d rather burn down than step foot in. I know she’s mad at me over the vibrator incident, but I don’t give a shit. The confirmation that she’s been getting herself off to the memory of me was worth asking, even if I did want to break the vibrator for taking pleasure from me. I’m even angrier after hearing that shit-head say that they’d fucked.
Where did they fuck? Was it on this bed? I’ll burn the fucking mattress. I know I shouldn’t be upset. Three years is a long time, but when it comes to Lyla, I shouldn’t be a lot of things that I can’t help. I take a breath. He’s obviously a lousy lay, which, no shit. I could seethatfrom a mile away. I take a breath and stop thinking about it. It happened. I can’t change it. I need to move on. When I hear her grab her keys, I look at the time on my phone and get up quickly.
“Where are you going?” I stand by the bedroom door. “You still have thirty minutes before your breakfast thing.”
“Right.” She glares at me. “And in the meantime, I’m going to get coffee from a stranger who won’t emotionally attack me, just because they think they can.”
“I thought you invited me to go with you.”
“Fuck you.” She turns swiftly, opens the door, and slams it shut behind her.
I laugh. Yeah, she’s angry all right. Well, welcome to the fucking club of the angry and broken-hearted, Lyla James. We don’t share cookies, only grievances.
* * *
Luckily I got ready two hours before her and I’m able to follow her to breakfast. She probably knows I followed her, but I try to stay out of sight. I’m relieved to see Marissa. Her presence should make it clear to Shit-head that this isn’t a pansy-ass breakfast date. Marissa looks worried. Shit-head looks confused. Lyla looks. . .expressionless. This is making her go back into her shell, which bothers me, but not enough to put an end to all of it. Shewillmarry me, and I will get revenge on the person who did this to me — to her.
