“It’s okay,” I said in a low, reassuring tone. I felt the sudden urge to comfort her and to make her understand that even though I was a mess, disturbed, and all mixed up, she could trust me. I used two fingers to tilt her chin up and force her to look into my eyes. The ocean in hers was tumultuous. She was confused. Instinctively, I kissed her lips, more chaste but no less intense than the ones I typically gave her. Her eyes slipped closed in abandon, as though I were now her entire world.
I smiled against her mouth before turning to look at Matt, who was staring at us like he’d caught us fucking raw rather than exchanging a fairly ordinary consoling gesture.
“You don’t love her,” he murmured wretchedly, probing the shadows behind my eyes. “You haven’t changed. I can see it. And I know you’re not going to change,” he went on, sounding agonized. I licked my lip, tasting his daughter’s sweetness again, and stared at him with a look of satisfaction as well as challenge.
“I don’t need to tell you shit,” I answered, neither confirming nor denying anything. “But one thing I do know for certain—there’s nothing youcan do to stop me,” I concluded with a hint of masculine pride that I knew a man like him would surely understand. Matt Anderson did, in fact, take the hit and staggered back miserably, staring at me in shock.
Selene continued to cling to me like I was the only thing anchoring her in place. She tracked her father’s movements as he walked with shoulders slumped out the door. He looked wrecked as he accepted the bitter truth that he had lost his daughter.
Possibly forever.
14
“He doesn’t need a woman, Selene,
he needs a goddamned psychiatrist.”
Selene
Agonized.
That was how I felt when Matt left the pool house, so disappointed to have caught me with Neil once again. He hadn’t seen what went on the night before, but I’m sure he got the idea.
I sighed and sipped my unsweetened coffee, which I never used to drink.
I’d been spending too much time with Mr. Disaster—I was picking up his habits.
I was alone in the kitchen after Neil had fled to the bathroom for another shower. His brief absence allowed me to think clearly for once and reflect on what had just happened.
I needed to have a conversation with Matt.
I tortured myself with mental images of him wallowing in misery in one of the sumptuous rooms of his mansion until my stomach cramped up. Abruptly, I gulped down my last bitter sip of coffee before leaving the mug on the kitchen island.
I got off my stool and walked to the hallway to let Neil know I was leaving.
I couldn’t hear the roar of the running water, so I figured he was out ofthe shower. But when I poked my head past the half-opened door, I froze in astonishment.
Neil stood there, facing the mirror, unmoving. He wore just a towel around his hips, and his wet hair dripped down the back of his neck. His body was stiff with tension. At first, I thought he was just looking at himself in the mirror the way anyone might, but when I looked closer, I saw his vacant stare.
His golden eyes were wide open but hazy, locked on his reflection. He didn’t so much as blink, lost in some unknowable world. He was experiencing a disconnect from reality; he was dissociating.
For the first time, I felt afraid.
It was a type of fear that I didn’t know how to manage: primordial, intense, and draining.
I was on high alert; fleeing or defending myself were the only options my lizard brain suggested.
The more seconds went by, the more palpably dangerous the situation became.
My anxiety became unbearable, and I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. That short but intense exhalation captured Neil’s attention, and he turned sharply in my direction.
Caught gawking at him, I stepped back a few paces and tried to flee. Neil was too quick, though, and he caught me by the wrist.
I whirled around to face him, and my back slammed up against the wall outside the bathroom door. I stared at the rise and fall of his chest as he panted.
His smell was so intense, and he held me with strength but without violence.
The distance between us was negligible.
