Crazy Girl(90)

“Long story,” I grumbled. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry to show up unannounced like this,” she said, her voice slightly hoarse. Her dark gaze drifted over my face, almost as if she were familiarizing herself with me again. “You look…good,” she noted timidly.

Yeah, what looked best? My black eye? My exhaustion? Or my apparent lack of patience? I didn’t want to be a dick, but I didn’t want to be nice to her, either. We’d done this before. She’d gotten to me; she’d somehow seeped her way inside me, and made me feel and want things I hadn’t in a long time, and then she’d shut me out because she was incapable of dealing with her insecurities and feelings. Now she was here, showing up out of nowhere, making small talk? This was bullshit. They weren’t things I could simply brush under the rug. I’d made myself clear the last time she did this. We were done. I’d thrown her in a river. What else could I do to get the message through to her?

“Hannah,” I growled her name through clenched teeth. Who did she think she was? Or better yet, who did she think I was? Some pushover that would go weak because she was giving me sad eyes?

Her gaze flashed with panic at the impatience in my voice. Holding her hands up as if she were going to rest them on my chest to calm me, she stopped short. “I know.” She shook her head, dropping her hands to her side. “I know I have no right to just show up this way, again, but…”

“But what?” I snapped. She had to stop doing this to me. Just when I was getting over her, she’d show up and fuck it all up.

A clear stream slid down her delicate cheek as her lip trembled. “I just had one of the worst days of my life. The kind of day that breaks you and tries to take you to your knees, and the only reason I got through it was because of you. Because you were in my head telling me to be strong.” She paused a moment, her gaze on mine, her chest rising and falling as she breathed choppy gulps. “I need…I need you, Wren. Please.”

Looking away, fixing my gaze on the river, I gripped my bag and cooler tightly. My hands itched. I wanted to hold her and push her away all at once. My pride was choking me. I wasn’t the kind of man to talk about feelings and being hurt. But that was what she’d done. She’d pulverized me. I had to turn her away. I couldn’t do this again; especially when she was so emotional. She’d get what she needed and leave me hanging like a chump. What if this was just a moment of weakness for her; a moment when she needed someone to comfort her, and I was the only option? She had friends. She needed to go find them. I opened my mouth to tell her to leave, but before I could she slammed her body against mine, wrapping her arms around me, clinging to me, resting her head against my chest. My body tensed as I held my arms out, still holding my bag and cooler.

“I’ll leave,” she whimpered. “I can tell that’s what you want, but I just needed to feel you for a second; hug you, even if you don’t hug me back.”

Something tightened in my chest when she fisted the back of my shirt as she cried. Fuck. What was going on with her? I’d seen her emotional before, but this seemed deeper; rawer. Something really bad must have happened. My stomach knotted. Was she okay? Really okay?

When I didn’t attempt to hug her back, she pushed herself away from me and wiped at her face. Her gaze was on her car tire when she spoke again. She wouldn’t look at me. “I’m sorry,” she rasped before clearing her throat.

“Hannah.” Her name came out gruffly. She still wouldn’t look at me.

“Look at me,” I ordered her. Bringing her gaze up, she met my stare. “I need a shower.” Walking past her, I had just stepped inside the garage when I looked over my shoulder. She hadn’t moved. Apparently, I hadn’t been clear. “I need a shower,” I said again. “I think a hot shower would do you good, too.”

Her features relaxed as her eyes glossed over again.

“Come on,” I told her as I jerked my head indicating for her to follow me. Once inside, I dropped my stuff at the base of the stairs and sat, unlacing my boots. When I’d slid them off, I stood and waited for her to go up before me. She was timid; unsure. Always so unsure. She barely moved unless I gave her some gesture to do so, as if she wasn’t sure if I was really inviting her in again. Slipping her sandals off first, she ascended the stairs, and I followed behind her. At the door of my bedroom, she halted, but my hands found her hips and I moved her forward toward the master bathroom. I knew what she was doing. I knew her well. She was scanning the room, looking for evidence that someone else had been here—another woman. I couldn’t blame her; if it had been me entering her bedroom this way, I’d have done the same, but I wasn’t going to give her time to play forensic detective because it would be a waste of time—there hadn’t been another woman since her.

She’d provided enough crazy to last me a while. In the bathroom, I tugged my shirt over my head and tossed it aside, then undid my belt and pants. Hannah watched me, her arms crossed, almost as if she were hugging herself. Dropping my pants and boxers, I kicked them aside and opened the glass door to the shower, turning it on. When I turned back, she was still frozen, watching me. Whatever was going on inside her head was bad. Seeing me naked was usually a good thing. Moving before her, I pulled her arms apart and lifted her shirt over her head. I undressed her completely, and she let me. Her stomach was flatter, her legs smaller. She had been tiny to begin with. And it wasn’t that she looked bad, but I didn’t like it. When I bent, pulling her pants and panties down, helping her step out of them, my forehead pressed against her belly. Her fingers gently threaded in my hair and I stilled for a moment. For all the uncertainty and anger I was feeling, something else hit me hard. Peace. This woman was the opposite of what I wanted in so many ways. She represented chaos, and when her insecurities and anxiety flared, I wasn’t sure I could handle it, but damn if in that moment I didn’t feel a calm I hadn’t felt since I’d last had her with me, near me. When I stood, her hand dropped. Moving it behind her, she hid it. I pulled her hair from the knot on her head, letting her dark hair cascade down her back. I motioned for her to give me one of her hands. Taking her hand, I led her inside the shower, positioning us so the water hit both of us. Ducking, I let the water shower over my head for a moment then, after wiping my face, I turned us so the water was to Hannah’s back. Taking her head in my hands, I tilted it back to wet her hair. Her eyes fluttered closed as I held her there, my body against hers, the warm water shooting between us. When she raised her head, she gazed at me, a rawness in her eyes that shot through me, a need I had only seen a glimmer of because she’d worked so hard to hide it from me before. Right there I wanted to flee from her; pretend I didn’t see what I saw. I didn’t want to set myself up for round two of hurt by Hannah. But I couldn’t. And since I couldn’t, I did the other thing I badly wanted to do. The only thing I could do.