“Come on. Shane will be so disappointed if you bail. He said he’s making his specialty.”
A pause. The silence means she’s thinking about it. Means she’ll stay.
My jaw locked so tight it hurt.
I didn’t want to go up there. Not really. Not when I’d barely figured out how to be human around her again. Not after everything she saw. The way I broke in Colorado, the way I lost control. Not after what I did to her the night we got back. The hunger I let loose, the way I tore at her in Shane and Sabrina’s guest bedroom, like if I devoured her mouth maybe I could erase the hell from both our bones.
She let me in. Gave herself up for a second, wild and desperate. I was drunk on her then. But when it was over, when she looked at me with those too-wide eyes, she’d seemed so fragile. So terrified of what I’d done to her, or maybe terrified of herself for wanting it.
I hadn’t touched her since. Because I didn’t want to break her again. Because I was afraid of myself, of what I’d do if I let myself have her.
Except I wanted to. Every fucked up, mangled bit of me wanted to. I fantasized about it. About putting my hands around her throat and kissing her until she couldn’t breathe, about pinning her to the wall and swallowing her cries. About what it would be like if she didn’t push me away.
I could have stayed down here, I told myself. I could have stayed safe, in the dark, unmoving. I didn’t need the heat of her, the way her voice stung every nerve. But that was a fucking lie. I was weak. I was an addict, and she was the poison.
The stairs creaked under my feet. My hands shook as I opened the basement door.
Light burned my eyes, too sudden, too bright. I blinked, caught the blurred shapes.
Shane at the stove, Sabrina plating something up, and Amelia standing there, twisting her hands. Her hair was down. She lookedlike she was ready to bolt, her body turned toward the exit even as she nodded along with Sabrina’s chatter.
I hovered at the edge of the kitchen like a ghost. She didn’t see me at first.
“You made it,” Shane said, a forced brightness in his voice.
I grunted. My eyes caught on Amelia. I didn’t want to look at her, but I couldn’t stop.
She didn’t look at me at all.
I wondered if she was replaying that night, the same as I did.
Maybe I was wrong. Maybe she didn’t even think about it. Maybe I was the only one haunted.
But the ache in my chest said she did. Said she burned for it just as much as I did, and hated herself for it.
I stood at the edge of the room, not moving, not breathing, waiting to see if she’d meet my eye. She didn’t.
She always did that when she felt exposed.
God, I craved her. Even when I hated her, I wanted her. Especially then. That was the curse. Hatred and desire, always tangled together, always pulling me back to her.
My hands curled into fists. I forced my voice steady. “What’s for dinner?”
Sabrina looked over, startled to see me out of my hole. “Oh! Pasta. Shane’s recipe.”
Amelia gave a small shudder, so slight I almost missed it.
She hadn’t expected to see me. That was good. It would keep her on edge. Maybe if she was on edge, she’d stop haunting me.
But even now, with the whole room between us, she took up too much space. I could feel her. Smell her. Want her.
I would keep my distance, I promised myself. Act like I didn’t care. Like I hadn’t memorized every inch of her skin, every sound she made when she broke.
But I was a liar. I’d always been a liar.
I followed the others into the dining room, every muscle tense, feeling like a wolf among sheep. If I so much as touched her, I knew I’d never stop.
So I wouldn’t.
