Among the Echoes (Wrecked and Ruined #2.5)(39)

"I can’t be with you. You don’t understand." She tries to walk away, but I refuse to release her.

"Then explain it to me!" I yell beyond all frustration. I’m only inches away from her face, and she immediately shuts down. "I’m sorry," I begin to apologize when she explodes.

"Don’t you dare yell at me! I want to be with you, but I can’t. It’s just not possible, and it’s not f*cking fair for you to try to make something happen. Walk away. Leave me alone, and stop sending me gifts so I can go one damn week without having you consume my every thought." She throws her arms up, batting my hands away.

"Damn it. Stop," I say just as she cracks open the door. "I’ll make it possible, Riley. Just give it a chance. I will make you safe."

"I’m not some damsel in distress you can just swoop off her feet and save, Prince Charming. I’m lost in a world so dark you wouldn’t be able to find the light of day again. But make no mistake, you’re the poisonous apple in this fairytale, Slate."

"Fuck your fairytale. I just want you. I’ll make my own God damn happily ever after. But you’re the one who is mistaken. You’ll be at the end of that story, beautiful. You either come willingly or you force me into the dark after you. It doesn’t matter to me, because either way, I’ll find you." I turn to walk away, and as I near my door, I decide to take a risk. It’s a gamble that could leave me looking like an arrogant prick, but I’ve been called worse. "Get your head together, because this is happening. My door’s open. I’ll be waiting for you."

She doesn’t try to stop me, but I don’t need her to. One thing has been constant since I met Riley. She’s always knocking at my door. Even unconsciously, since the very first time I laid eyes on her, she hasn’t been able to stay away from me either.

I cross my arms over my chest and stand inside my apartment, watching the door and willing her to bust through it. But as the minutes pass, that wish goes unanswered. Finally, I drag a chair over to face the door. She’ll come. I know she will. But when the clock hits the one-hour mark, I begin to lose my confidence. I lean forward, placing my elbows to my knees, and cup my hands over my mouth.

"Fuck. Come on, Riley. You want this. I know you do," I say to myself.

Finally, over an hour and a half later, I hear the slam of her door and the thumps of feet running toward my apartment. I jump up and ready myself for something so big that I don’t even know where to start preparations. Once she walks back into this apartment, she’s mine. I let her go once. I won’t make that mistake again. I’m ready for her—ready for us.

Suddenly, my door swings open and her eyes are red rimmed but blue as the Caribbean ocean. Her chest is heaving with anxiety, and the mix of longing and insecurity mingles in her face.

"You ready?" I ask calmly.

"I’m really f*cking scared. I don’t know how this will ever work."

"That’s not your job to figure out. I’ll take care of you, Riley. Just tell me you trust me."

She might have shown up, but I can tell that she isn’t here. She’s nervous and jittery. However, just the fact that she came at all proves that she’s trying to get there. Fuck it. I’ll make her ready.

I stand my ground, careful not to move any closer, completely unsure which version of Riley is standing in front of me. The timid and broken girl I first met or the bold and beautiful woman from the hallway.

With a gentle yet stern voice, I tell her, "I want to touch you, but I’m not going to want to stop. So tell me you trust me, beautiful."

"I don’t even really know you," she breathes, clearly doubting her decisions.

"You know enough, or you wouldn’t be here at all."

"I think this is going to be really f*cking bad."

"Probably. Now tell me you trust me."

"I trust you."

"Then come here." I curl my finger at her, but she just blinks at me for entirely too long. "Riley…" I growl.

"Don’t call me that. Just call me beautiful. Please."

"Anything, beautiful," I purr.

Before I have a chance to say anything else, she rushes forward. I’m only a few feet away, but she runs at a full sprint, diving into my arms. Her unrestrained mouth crushes against mine.





I can’t fight this with Slate anymore. It’s messed up and I have no idea how anything good could ever come of us being together, but I absolutely can’t stay away from him any longer. It was one thing when he was hundreds of miles away, but knowing that he is right next door and feeling the spark that still burns between us has me throwing every single one of my fears into the wind and praying he can make good on his promise to keep me safe.

I push a hand into his hair, desperate to be closer. It’s been too long without him. Way too many months without the blaze that only he can cause within me.

"I want you naked. Can you handle that?" he asks, pulling his shirt over his head and discarding it on the floor. I can’t even bring myself to stress that this is about to happen. I just want to feel him.

"Door shut. Lights off," I demand between kisses.

I move my hand to trace the muscles of his stomach. Fuck. Slate Andrews is an amazing specimen of a man. I’ve never had self-esteem issues before, and I’m not about to start now, but what the hell this man wants with me is mind-boggling. Yet his hand slides over my breasts with the same intensity that I touch him with.