June, Reimagined (74)

“I’ll just be in the shower,” Lennox said.

June listened to the water run. Lennox was alive. A floor above her, he breathed and moved, inhabiting tangible space. And yet June still couldn’t move. Even when the water stopped. Even when she heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Even when he stood in the doorway again, a pile of blankets and a pillow in his arms.

Lennox approached June, and she was finally able to pick her body up, like ripping roots from the soil. Lennox was too close. His wonderful smell made June weak. She didn’t deserve this bliss.

June crossed the room, putting space between them, her eyes fixed on the wall. Lennox needed to leave her. Never see her again. For his own good. The thought ripped at June’s heart, but she knew it was true.

“Damn it, Peanut,” Lennox said, frustration in his tone. “I’m sorry I bossed you around tonight, but it was for your own good. Don’t be mad at me.”

No, damn him and his kind heart. Didn’t he see what June had done to him tonight? She was poison. Unwell. So lost in her own grief and guilt, she’d risked another life for her own need. She couldn’t stop herself from crying. The more Lennox talked, the harder she fought the softening inside her. His voice was a tonic, a balm, but he was an obsession she had to break.

Lennox took another step toward June, but she backed away, choking on a sob. “Don’t.”

The room was still again. June felt frozen. All she wanted was to be near him, but she had earned this punishment.

“Fine,” Lennox said. “If that’s what you want.”

June turned on him, fury in her sadness. “Like it matters what I want. You’ve made your choice.”

“What in bloody hell are you talking about?”

June knew it was wrong to bring up Isobel, to expose her jealousy, her broken heart, after everything Lennox had done for her tonight. “Never mind. I’ll leave.” She moved toward the door, though she had no idea where she would go.

Lennox caught her arm and growled, “You’re not going anywhere, Peanut.”

June yanked her arm out of his grasp, hating and loving the nearness of him. “Why do you care where I go?” she barked through her sorrow. “You don’t want me.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

June didn’t want to rehash everything. She attempted to leave again, but Lennox blocked her way, boiling June’s blood. She tried to jostle around him, but he was too quick. She pushed, but he wouldn’t move. God, she hated how steady he was. How strong. How protective and brave and kind. How someone else got to have him, and she didn’t. She shoved him again, hard, in the chest.

Lennox didn’t falter. “I won’t let you leave until you tell me!” he yelled.

“Fine!” she shouted, all her strength gone. “I know about Isobel!”

Lennox stepped back. “How the hell do you know about Isobel?”

June hung her head. She was so, so tired. “I overheard you and Angus talking about her. I know you’re with her. I know you need her.”

“You heard that?” Lennox asked, his question burrowing into her skin.

“Am I wrong?”

Lennox sat on the couch, as if the fight had left him, too. “No. You’re not wrong.”

That was all June needed to muster the last strength she had to leave. She took a step, but Lennox placed a gentle hand on her hip. The softness, the intimacy of the gesture, startled her still.

“Are you going to let me explain?” he asked quietly.

“You can spare me the details of your love story. I know enough.”

Lennox stood. “And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“You and that skinny Leonardo DiCaprio look-alike. He had his fucking hands all over you. God, I could break him in half with one hand. Don’t tell me there isn’t something there.”

“Matt is my best friend,” June countered. “And he showed up, without my permission, to take me home, but I stayed. I stayed. Not that it mattered. I hope you and Isobel have a great life together. You wanted to erase us, consider it done.”

Lennox grabbed June around her waist, pulling her close.

“Let me go.” June tried to wiggle out of his grasp.

“I won’t,” Lennox said. “Not until you hear me out.”

“I don’t want to hear you out! I want to leave!”

“Would you just stop fighting me, Peanut, and let me talk?”

“I’m sick of talking!”

“Fine! Then you’re going to bed!”

Lennox threw June over his shoulder and stomped upstairs. She dangled like a fish and protested, but he carried her all the way to his bed, cast her down, and stood catching his breath, his hands on his hips. Gray bags hung under his eyes. His hands were raw and red. What was she doing fighting with him, after the night he’d had?

“Please,” June said, guilt choking her again. “I can’t sleep here.”

“I’m not putting you back on the couch.”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what the hell is it, Peanut? Is it Isobel? Because—”

June raised her hand to stop him. She couldn’t take the sound of Isobel’s name coming out of his mouth. But as much as June wished she could blame the woman, June herself was the problem. She was selfish and irrevocably broken, and she didn’t deserve any sort of kindness from Lennox.