‘I’m not interested in relationships.’
‘Nor am I.’
‘Stop doing that.’ I laugh, pressing my fist to his shoulder.
But he moves quickly, rolling me onto my back and trapping me beneath him, so I have no choice but to stare up into his eyes. My smile drops as other feelings take over. He is so much bigger and stronger than I am, so much of a man, and the weight of him feels so hot that I can hardly think, much less answer.
‘Did someone break your heart, Bailey?’
My lips part on a breath of surprise. ‘Why would you say that?’
His eyes roam my face, leaving me vulnerable and exposed. ‘Am I wrong?’
I roll my lips, trying to hold the words back. But it doesn’t matter. I don’t need to speak to agree with him. I move my head slowly, a single, simple nod. Only I don’t want to talk about Kirk,not with Beau. I don’t want to give Kirk the brain space, the room to move. Especially not here.
‘When?’
‘A while ago.’ I clear my throat. ‘Three years.’
He lets out a low whistle.
‘And you’re still hurting?’
I think about that carefully. ‘It’s more … I’m different after Kirk. He taught me lessons I’ll never forget.’
‘Such as?’
I pull my lips to the side. ‘Such as only trust men as far as you can throw them. Which in this case is not very far at all.’
‘You tarring me with the same brush as him?’
‘Don’t take it to heart. It’s my personal mantra and it applies equally to all men.’
‘Ah,’ he says, but there’s a look in his eyes that shows me he wants to argue with me. Or perhaps defend himself. ‘What if I’m nothing like him?’
I lift my shoulders. ‘I won’t be around long enough to find out. And I wouldn’t let myself care, even if I was sticking to your side like glue.’
He’s quiet for a beat; I can practically see the wheels turning. ‘He really did a number on you.’
‘Yeah.’ There’s no sense denying it.
‘I’m not going to hurt you.’
‘I know that.’ I lift my finger to his cheek, then drop my hand to his shoulder. ‘Because I’m not going to let you.’
‘Or anyone?’
‘Damn straight.’
‘Good girl.’ He surprises me then by smiling and kissing my forehead. ‘You gotta look after yourself.’
He says it like he feels that in the fibres of his DNA. Like he’s practising the same techniques to keep people at arm’s length. He says it like it’s a mantra of his as well.
‘Now, I don’t know about you, but I could eat a whole goddamn horse. Room service?’ He rolls off me, and it’s like the breaking of a spell, or the temporary lifting of it anyway. I can breathe again, I can think straight. Straight enough to realise that I’m hungry, and also relieved. Relieved that I don’t regret what’s happened between us. Relieved that I don’t feel bad, or guilty, or like I’ve done the wrong thing.
‘Starving,’ I agree. And though I don’t admit as much to Beau, my stomach had been in knots before his event, so I haven’t even thought of food. Until now. I watch as he strides to the hotel phone and lifts it, then glances back at me.
‘Anything you want? Don’t want?’
