‘Do you think that’s a good idea? Tomorrow, the hospital will be teeming with people. It’s only a matter of time before someone makes a call and you get rumbled.’
‘I’ve got my trusty hat.’
‘The ball cap?’ I ask doubtfully. He’s as tall as Rory, as striking, and the way he carries himself just screams for attention. Plus, his exotic looks and confident demeanour are pure superstar.‘I hate to tell you, but it’s not much of a disguise.’ He’s too gorgeous, too striking... too many superlatives.
‘If you don’t want me to come, you only have to say.’
God, I could answer that question so many ways. I roll my lips inwards to avoid letting half of them escape.
‘Ivy.’ He elongates my name, dragging it over gravel, and then his hands reach out but drop before getting anywhere that counts. ‘I want to be good,’ he whispers, the words sounding pained.
‘What happens if I don’t want you to be?’ I murmur to my running shoes.
His answer is both agonisingly sweet and painful. He whispers that I’m lovely and that he doesn’t want to spoil things, and I don’t hear very much after that as tears seem to rob me of my vision as well as my sense.
‘Please, Ivy, this is so much bigger than just you and me now.’ He holds his arms out for me again, his eyes flicking over me quickly, but not so quick as to hide the heat there.
‘Just stop,’ I blubber, holding up my hand. ‘I get it—please, just, let’s pretend I didn’t say anything.’ Because being taken in his arms and consoled is rejection still, whichever way you look at it.
‘Hush, Edera. Hush, babe.’ Heedless to my hands, he crushes me against him. ‘I’m so sorry. And I really am trying to be good.’
‘I know,’ I say part laugh, part sob. ‘But I don’t have to like it, do I?’ I curl my hands in the front of his shirt as though it’ll stop him from pulling away, but as his fingers find my shoulders, our bodies separate anyway.
‘You’re so lovely. So strong and brave. I’m in awe of you—of how you’ve coped—but I want to be here for you now. I don’t want you to do this alone.’ More words of consolation I don’t want to hear from him. Sentiments I can’t appreciate right now, at any rate. ‘If, if that’s what you want.’
His tone offers no accusation, but I hear it anyway. I’ve locked him out of my life in so many ways—since the very beginning—and for what? For the sake of the opinions of others? Because I didn’t want to be that girl? A selfish daughter—the girl others talk about. So instead, I gave him up while I pretended to be someone else.
‘You’re absolutely right.’ I step back and wipe my eyes. ‘It must be the hormones.’Horny hormones. I don’t remember reading about this in that damned book.
I straighten my spine then look him straight in the eye as I lie to him.
One.
Last.
Time.
‘I need you in my life but not like this.’
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Dylan
‘Fuck. Fuck!’
At the bottom of the stairs and two locked doors, I rake my hands through my too-long hair.
As she’d stood on the threshold, her eyes pure and clear and her gaze full of longing, a jolt of realisation shot down my spine. I was closer to her than I’d been in such a long time. Closer to her than I might ever be again—this is what I wanted, maybe what I needed, too. And Iacheto be inside her, even for just one last time.
Christ, how I want her—I wanted to reach for her, and almost did, but for the flicker of fucking conscience. A flash of concern that I might be leading her into something she might regret.
I need to think about more than my own needs. I want to deserve her, to be worthy, but right now, standing at the bottom of the stairs, gallantry can fuck right off to hell because with every fibre of my being, I want her.
I want to knock down the door and storm up the stairs.
Take her in my arms.
Make her mine for always.
