The Fall(62)

But we hadn’t been just f*cking.

Nope.

Fuck knows what the hell I’d been thinking, but my last few interactions with Sofia had been far too close. And the sex—that just sealed the deal and put me into a sea of what-the-hell-was-I-doing that spelled a world of trouble.

Edging her off me, I moved off that bed so f*cking fast, the indent of my body was still left on the mattress. I needed away from it, away from her, as my throat constricted and I felt like I was going to be physically sick.

The same hands that had been minutes ago palming her tits, slammed the bathroom door and locked it as my vision started to go. My chest expanded and contracted like it was supposed to, but the amount of air I was getting not enough to keep me conscious. What the f*ck was going on? My f*cking body swayed like a big ass tree about to go over until my hands hit the wall to stop it.

Not good.

My legs couldn’t be trusted to keep me upright so my ass hit the toilet just in case. Splitting my head open on the sink because I’d fainted like a * wasn’t happening. It was bad enough I felt like I was having a heart attack, I didn’t need a concussion as well.

“Michael, are you okay?” She knocked at the door, her voice faint against the wood.

I had no idea if she was whispering or something had f*cked up my hearing, but none of it was registering.

“Go back to bed, Sofia.” My head fell against my open palms as the useless airbags in my chest did the best they could to keep me breathing. “Just . . . go to sleep or something.”

“If you’re sick, I can help you.” She stayed at the door, not listening to a word I’d said about leaving me the hell alone.

“I don’t need help, go back to bed,” I shot out, hoping that this time she’d take the hint and go back to sleep. It was bad enough this shit was going down in the first place, I didn’t need an audience.

“O-kay,” she agreed reluctantly. Either that or she was saying whatever she thought I wanted to hear and was camping outside the door. Now that I thought about it, the second option was probably the most accurate one.

What the hell was I doing? And why the hell did I care so much? My head had gotten so f*cking messed up lately, I was forgetting that guys like me didn’t get to be with women like her. Not because she was too good for me, because I didn’t subscribe to that bullshit stereotype. But because guys like me had no f*cking future. Not one we could offer anyone.

And not that it f*cking mattered because in a day or two, she was going to be history and then what was I going to do? Cry into my f*cking Wheaties like a f*cking five-year-old? Please.

“You’re breathing too fast, you’re going to hyperventilate.” Her voice came from beyond the door.

See, option number two. I knew she hadn’t left.

“I’m fine, Sofia.” I gritted out through my clenched teeth.

“No, you aren’t. You are having a panic attack,” she responded, like she was the all-seeing oracle and knew what the hell she was talking about.

“I don’t get panic attacks, so stop trying to WebMD me.”

Panic attack? If anything I was having a heart attack, which was completely inconvenient and needed to rectify itself pronto.

“Open the door, Michael,” She called out, not willing to let me die in f*cking peace.

“Jesus Christ, woman. Can’t you just let it go?” My hands fumbled with the lock and tossed open the door. It was either that or listen to her bitch through wood, and I knew she wasn’t giving up.

“You don’t believe in Jesus Christ.” She folded her arms across her chest. The chest that had previously been naked was now wearing one of my Tshirts. “Now put your head between your knees and slow down your breathing.” She took a step forward, crossing the threshold into the bathroom while keeping her eyes pinned on me.

“No offense, but I’m not in the mood to attempt to give myself a blowjob.” I nodded toward my dick. I hadn’t bothered with pants, being too caught up with getting the hell off the bed and into the bathroom to worry whether my cock was covered.

“Then concentrate on your breathing. In for three, then out for three.” She demonstrated, puffing out her chest as she took a mouthful of air and then slowly blew it out.

My breaths started to mimic hers, keeping time with the long ins and outs, and what do you know? The pain in my chest started to ease, with my heartbeat slowing down as well.

“It wasn’t a panic attack.” Three in . . . three out. “I must have inhaled too much smoke or something before I came to bed.”

“Right, because smoke inhalation takes hours to show up.” She rolled her eyes, not buying what I was selling.

“Fine.” The word fired out of my mouth. “I woke up with you all up on me and I didn’t like it. Whatever is happening between us can’t happen.”

“It’s too late for that,” she hissed, not backing down.

And f*ck me, she was right. Damage had already been done. Exhibit A was that I was in the f*cking bathroom having the conversation in the first place with exhibit B being I’d not only agreed to spare her life—going against everything I’d ever done—but was helping her do the right thing.

“Tomorrow I’m delivering the bones to your father. What happens after that I have no f*cking idea, but I know that you can’t be part of that equation.” She lifted her hand as if to protest but I cut her off. “Don’t get defensive; the only way I can do this is alone. I know you don’t understand that, but it’s not because I don’t care, Sofia. You were right, it’s too late. But I know that if you are with me, you are constantly going to be looking over your shoulder. Only one of us died tonight, don’t toss away your free pass to be with me.”