Yet the infection of fear still lingers in the depths of my mind.
But how I feel about her? Yeah, that sensation has spread and numbed all the hurt and agony that has coexisted over the past five years.
When I don’t speak, Brennan lifts his eyes to meet mine. “But do you? Do you feel the same way?”
My fingers pull through my damp hair. “Fuck. I should’ve said it back.” The sound of a car door slamming jolts my body. “Where is she?”
Cameron reaches for the coffee table, grabbing his beer. “She said she needed a night alone. So, she’s headed back to the house. Gram and Bumpa’s old place.”
Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!
I stride to the window, watching her truck speed around the circular driveway. Her red taillights, glowing through the downpour and light misting of fog, taunt me as they disappear.
“Shit!” Turning rapidly without a second thought, I tear through the kitchen, seizing the Aston Martin keys from the counter, and march back through the foyer to the front door.
My body is reacting on its own. She’s pulling me toward her as if we’re bound by an invisible force. The growing distance between us is lengthening the void, and I’m determined to close the distance.
I crave her closeness.
Her soft, malleable body plastered against mine.
I’m addicted to how my heart pulses wildly whenever she’s nearby. I’m captivated by the brightness and vibrancy that flickers across those brown irises. They make me feel lighter whenever they’re imprisoned by mine.
God, I love the way she makes me feel.
But right now, I’m combatting the same soul-wrenching feeling that attacked me all those years ago when I left my siblings for those few days after Mom disappeared.
I didn’t look at her after she said those words to me. I couldn’t. But her pleading eyes were so powerful that I felt the dejection pooling in my gut like poison.
Hurling my body into the front seat, water drips off my hair and cascades down the side of my temple. Turning on the ignition, I slam my foot on the gas pedal, cursing myself for letting her walk away.
Cursing myself becauseI’mthe reason she left.
I round the circular driveway, flicking on the wipers to clear the droplets of rain pelting the windshield from the low cloud cover. Accelerating down the driveway with the solar lights on both sides, I enter the orchard, slamming the pedal harder as if I could smash it into the floor. Luckily this car is a hell of a lotfaster than my truck. A red glow appears through the rain and fog in the distance, the sight of her truck dangerously escalating the cadence of my heart hammering violently.
Please slow down when you see me.
I’ve always loved chasing her. But right now?
Fuck that.
I want her in my bed. I want to say the words I know she wants to hear. I want my hands tangled in her silky, dark hair and her body trapped below mine because that’s where she belongs. With me.With us.
Nearing her vehicle, I flash the brights, but she doesn’t slow.
I slam the steering wheel with my fist. “Please slow down!”
But nothing happens.
We race through the orchard. A storm may be raging around us, but my focus is on calming the chaos I have unleashed.
Gaining on her, I flash them again, holding my breath.
Red brake lights illuminate the wet gravel, but the moment I realize where she is—where we are in the orchard—time slows.
The water droplets gliding down the slope of the windshield.
The boom of my pulse echoing in my ears.
