A Single Glance (Irresistible Attraction #1)(50)

“I wrote it down; don’t have it with me.” I give her a bullshit answer and ask again, but harder this time, “What happened?”

Lifting up her head to look me in the eyes, her lips pull down and she tells me in a tight voice, “I wasn’t sleeping… not at all since Jenny…” She leaves the remainder unspoken. “So I took those pills you had.” She crosses her arms, looking down at the coffee pot and licking her lower lip before telling me, “I’m sorry. It was shitty of me and I don’t know why I’m doing so many shitty things, to be honest.”

Her arms unfold and she rests her elbows on the counter, like she’s talking to the coffee pot instead of me. Her fingers graze her hairline as she keeps going. “That drug doesn’t work; I’ll tell you that.” As she speaks her voice is dampened, although she tries to keep it even. “I had the most awful dream, but it felt so real.” I take a tentative step forward, getting closer to her, but am careful to keep far enough back so she won’t feel threatened.

She reminds me of a caged animal backed into a corner. One who’s given up and given in, but still frightened and not ashamed to admit it. One who would still try to hurt you, and you’d be the one to blame, because it warned you so.

“It was so real, Jase,” she whispers and before I can ask what her dream was, she tells me. “Jenny was there, ripping the cover off the book.” She turns around to face what little of the living room she can see from this angle. Her hand falls to her side as she peeks up at me.

A deep well of emotions burns in her gaze, enrapturing me and refusing to let me go. “She said I didn’t belong there and she wouldn’t come back with me.” She has to whisper her words, her voice is so fragile. Like she really believed it happened.

“I’m sorry I stole from you, and I’m sorry I even took it. I don’t know what’s happening to me.” Bringing the heels of her hands up to her cheeks she wipes at the stray tears and that’s when I hold her, rocking her in my arms and shushing her.

“I hate crying… why am I crying?” Her frustration shows as she holds on to the pain, still not having learned to let it go.

The coffee pot stops, and I can’t hear anything. She’s stiff in my arms, not crying, but not getting better either.

She’s stuck in that moment. The monster in her dreams, following in her shadows.

“You want to go upstairs?”

She doesn’t answer right away and I add, “You need to sleep.”

It takes a moment, it always does with her, ever defiant, but she nods eventually. She pushes off from the counter, leaving the black coffee to steam in the mug where it sits, knowing it’ll go untouched and turn cold.

Her arms stay wrapped around her as she walks up the old stairs, and I follow behind her, listening to the wooden steps creak with every few steps.

I keep a hand splayed on her back and when we make it to the bedroom, she stops outside of the door. “You don’t have to babysit me,” she tells me, craning her neck to look up at me in the dimly lit hall.

“Maybe I want to lie in bed with you, ever think of that?” I ask her softly, letting the back of my fingers brush her cheek.

She takes my hand in both of hers and opens the door to her bedroom. It’s smaller than mine, but nice. Her dresser looks older, maybe an antique like the vanity she has in the corner of her room.

Everything is neatly in place, not a single piece of clothing is out, nothing is askew. Nothing except for the bed. It looks like she just got out of it. The top sheet’s a tangled mess and the down comforter is still wrapped up like a cocoon.

“When did you get up?” I ask her.

She shrugs and pulls back the blankets, fixing them as she answers, “I think around three… I don’t remember.”

“It was almost midnight when you said you were going to bed.”

“Yes,” is all she answers me.

“Come here.” I rip her away from straightening the sheets to hold her, and she clings to me. “It wasn’t real,” I whisper in her hair.

“I wish…” she pauses, then swallows thickly before confessing, “I wish it was in some way, because at least I got to see her.”

Her shoulders shudder in my arms. I don’t have words to answer her, so I lay her in bed, helping her with the blankets and climbing in next to her.

The kisses start with the intent to soothe her pain. Letting my lips kiss her jaw, where the tearstains are. Up her neck, to make her feel more.

And she does, she breathes out heavily, keeping her eyes closed and letting her hands linger down my body.

Slowly it turns to more. She deepens the kisses. She holds me closer and demands more.

“You’re still in trouble,” I whisper against her lips, reminding her that she needs to be punished. Her response is merely a moan as she continues to devour me with her touch.

“Not tonight, but it’s coming.”

Her eyes open slowly, staring into mine and she whispers, “I know.”

“Tell me what you want.” I give her the one demand, wanting her to control this. Giving her something I haven’t before.

“Don’t make this harder on me. Please,” she begs me and I nearly turn her onto her belly, to fuck her into the mattress like I’ve wanted to do since the day I first laid eyes on her, but then she says, “I don’t want to beg you for something like… like…”