Page 29

“You okay?” Robbie asks, voice cutting through the silence.

I snap the locket closed and stare out of the passenger window, continuing to ignore him.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sure you are,” I snark.

“You have to admit that was fucking stupid.”

I turn my head to glare at him, but his eyes are fixed on the road. His hands flex as he turns the steering wheel, and my gaze flicks down to them. His thick veins and tendons protrude with every movement. I manage to look away just as his house comes into view.

“Do you want to watch a film tonight?” Robbie asks as we walk through his front door.

“Depends what film.”

“It’s a surprise.” He grins, and I’m immediately sceptical. If he’s happy about it, then I’m sure it’ll be awful.

I leave him to set up the film and go upstairs to search through my suitcase for something more comfortable to wear. It’s a struggle to find something just right. The house is warm—too warm for my fluffy pyjama bottoms.

I strip out of my clothes, glancing over at Robbie’s side of the bed. A T-shirt sits there, crumpled. I stare at it. He fell asleep wearing it yesterday. He had one arm pressed firmly against mine, but never tried to hold on to me. I let him stay there. Skin on skin.

Glancing behind me, I listen to make sure he’s still downstairs, then I pick up the T-shirt and bring it to my nose. Immediately I’m hit with Robbie’s smoky leather cologne, mixed with sweat. My stomach tenses, and my brain lights up like a fucking Christmas tree. I imagine his large, rough hands groping my thighs and arse as he throws me over his shoulder. I recall the little moan he tried to stifle as I scratched his back in retaliation.

“God. Stop it,” I huff.

If I’m going to torture myself, I may as well torture him too.

I pull the T-shirt over my head, then stand in front of the mirror, lifting my arms a little. The shirt rides up, revealing my tight purple boxers and the outline of my soft cock.

Perfect.

I look up and freeze. I don’t recognise the man grinning back at me in the mirror. He looks too happy. The grin fades as quickly as it came. I grab the locket at my chest, my heartbeat thumping against my ribs. I picture the mirror shattering into a thousand pieces and me right alongside it.

I want.

God, I want Robbie to want me.

My stomach churns, and I have to sit on the bed to stop the room spinning. My sex life has been limited to the violence and greed of men for years. They hurt until I’m numb. They take until nothing is left behind. And I can sleep peacefully knowing there’s not a fucking thought left in my broken mind.

I can’t get that from Robbie. My heart whispers he’s safe, but my head screams to run.

I’m so exhausted from this shit. I just want a couple of hours to pretend I’m normal. Even though it’s too hot, I throw on the pink pyjama bottoms and head downstairs.

Robbie’s sitting on the sofa, remote in hand, flicking through movie suggestions. “Hey, do you want anything to e—” His eyes blow wide as he turns to look at me. “Is that my T-shirt?” he rasps.

“I’m not hungry yet.” I shrug, answering the question he never managed to finish. I flop down next to him on the sofa, far enough away that I can stretch my legs out, my bare feet mere inches from his thigh. I lift an arm behind my head to use as a cushion.

Robbie’s easy smile and soft eyes are long gone. His stare is intense, jaw clenched so tight I can see it throbbing.

“So, what are we watching?” I ask casually, trying to ignore how the heat coming from his leg is too hot against my foot.

Be normal.

He clears his throat and shifts his body in the direction of the TV, hitting play on the remote. The sound of classical piano fills the silence between us, and a deep red sunset glows as a man rows a boat across a lake. The title comes up on the screen, and I sit up abruptly, scowling at Robbie. I’ve heard of the film, but I’ve never watched it. Pretty sure I would never choose to watch it either. I have no interest in sad romances.

“Really?” I ask, voice thick with judgement.

“What?” he asks innocently.