I can’t blame the booze.
I can’t blame my overprotective brothers.
I can’t even blame that I somehow lost my mind the night before and ended up lip-locked with Jace like some out-of-control teenager on anyone or anything.
My stomach rolls as I pull my knees tighter against my chest and sigh. I’ve been sitting on my bathroom floor for hours now. A bad dream pulled me from a restless sleep early this morning. My regrets are many, and I’m not sure if I’m angrier at Jace or myself.
I certainly can’t blame him. He’s a hot-blooded guy with needs. He didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, he did everything right. Too right. And that’s the problem.
God, what I am going to do? I’ll never be able to face him again. I’ll never be able to treat him like he’s only Jack’s brother. I am such an incredible fool. What the hell did I expect would happen? No man has ever made me drop my guard like Jace has. No man has ever made me want to say the hell with the past. No man has ever, ever been able to touch me like that. Sweet, gentle sweeps of fingers. Savage, firm grasps of hands. Jace’s touch alone has the ability to unravel me completely.
Did I really do all that? Grind on him and give him the impression that I was more than willing? Uh, yeah, I did. And then some. What we did right there in Marco’s kitchen with my entire family mere feet away is something most people choose to do behind closed doors. Not me, apparently. Somewhere between some innocent hand-holding and me almost lifting my skirt and inviting him to dive beneath, we traveled down a rocky road I’ve never allowed myself to go; one of desperation. What Damian and I had … sure, there was sex. As infrequent as it was, it still required me to be alone with a man I barely knew. And to be naked on top of it.
Yet even after all the weirdness between me and him, I never once felt like my skin was set on fire. I never once felt my entire body melt under the weight of a look. I never once wanted to say to hell with all my concerns, my fears. My response to Jace scares me. I’m not wired to want. Not like that. And once the lightheadedness wore off last night, I was left with the stark truth that I allowed him in and have no intention of taking it any further.
I want to. I really want to. There is so very much right with us. And so very, very much wrong too. I could never burden him with what I know, with what I am. I could never look at him and watch the disappointment fill his eyes. I could never stand to see him repulsed once he hears the truth.
That will happen. I know it will. And it might not be now, but the longer I allow him to believe we have any sort of future together, the greater the chances are that I’ll leave him disillusioned. Or worse, I’ll hurt him.
Dropping my head down onto my raised knees, I groan. I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve to continue to pay for something that wasn’t my fault. Yet knowing that and believing it with all my heart are two halves of a whole I’ll never be able to put back together. I will never be somebody’s someone. It’s time I accepted that and move on.
My phone buzzes from its spot on the rug next to me and one glance at the screen has me wincing. Jace and I exchanged phone numbers before we said goodbye last night, so I’m not really surprised he’s trying to reach me. How do I handle this? Do I ignore the calls, hope he can take a hint and move on? That would be such a lame thing to do, but it’s the easiest solution by far. I could be honest, tell him I’m not ready to start seeing anyone. Hopefully he’ll believe me, but why would he? I practically pounced on him last night. He probably believes it will only take a date or two to get me in his bed. He’d probably be right.
Unwinding my stiff body, I get to my feet and wince at my reflection in the mirror. My hair is a tangled mess around my head, last night’s makeup smeared under my eyes. My face is pale from the unsettled night’s sleep, and even my eyes, no longer shimmer but a faded, tepid, pale blue, have taken on the stress of indecision. This is what having deep, dark, painful secrets looks like. They’re semi-hidden, buried, but clearly visible.
Padding into the bedroom, I set my phone on the nightstand, slide beneath the covers, and pull them over my shoulders. I just want to close my eyes and sleep away the choices I made yesterday. I want to wake up and suddenly be free of all the burdens of the past, but I know that will never happen. I have to own what I did with Jace, just exactly like I own the part I played in what happened to me years ago. I made snap decisions that ended up costing me. You’d think I’d have learned long ago not to do that.
The phone buzzes again and with a sigh, I swipe my finger across the screen and read the text Jace sent me:
You free for dinner tonight?
Squeezing my eyes shut, I toss the phone aside and tug the blankets up higher. I’d give anything to stay right here and hide like a child from all the monsters. It is so easy to avoid the truth when the only one demanding it is the reflection in the mirror. But how long can I expect to hide from him? He knows where I live for crying out loud. Any man worth his salt would at least try to knock on my door before giving up for good.
What the hell have I done?
Tears leak out and plop down onto the pillow case as the phone buzzes once again. I’ve gotten really, really good at using work as an excuse over the years to remain untouchable. Now, more than ever, I’ll have to rely on my profession to act as a wall between me and the man I believed for a hot minute might actually have been a part of my future.
I’m damn pathetic. Look at me. Crying like a baby over what? Big deal … we kissed and felt each other up. I need to get over myself and move on. Now. Jace is a good guy, but he’ll soon tire of all this hot and cold and find himself someone far more willing to go the distance. Sadly, that someone won’t ever be me.
I fall into a troubled sleep with the sound of my phone buzzing furiously and when I wake a few hours later there’s a loud pounding at my front door. A quick scroll through the phone tells me that Jace only tried to reach out that one time. All the subsequent texts and numerous calls were from Roman.
Grumbling to myself, I stomp down the hallway to the front door. After confirming that my obnoxious and very overprotective brother is standing on the other side, I throw the door open and retreat to the couch without saying a word.
He storms in and slams the door shut. “Why the hell haven’t you answered your phone?”
I shrug and click on the TV. “I was sleeping.”
He glances at his watch. “It’s three in the afternoon. Since when do you sleep all day?” I refrain from answering, offering another shrug instead. He mutters a curse under his breath and flops down next to me gathering my hand in his. “Are you all right?”
“Yep.” I can feel his eyes on me, hard and doubting, the unasked questions lingering over the two of us. Keeping my gaze locked onto whatever trash is splashed across the television, I pull my knees up against my chest and wrap my arms tightly around my legs.
There’s a long, tense moment of silence. Then he says softly, “I’m worried about you, Bella.”
“Don’t be.” I hate shutting people out, especially Roman, but I learned a long time ago that doing so was a necessary part of remaining sane in an otherwise unpredictable world. Trusting in myself has worked really well, right up until the moment that Jace pressed his lips against mine. Then everything I’d worked so hard to protect, everything I’d hidden from view for so long, was suddenly on display.
“Talk to me.”
Strangled laughter shoots from my mouth and I reply, “No.” Roman should know better than to pry. He learned long ago, or so I thought, that doing so would get him nowhere with me.
With a defeated sigh, he sets his arm around my shoulders and pulls me in close. He might not be able to fix me with words, but he always makes certain there are no doubts about his loyalty and his love for me. I’m grateful … so grateful that he sees past my unwillingness to confide. He may not ever know my reasons for doing so, but at least he accepts my commitment to keep my life to myself.
Snuggling down into his embrace, I close my eyes and immediately see Jace’s face as it was last night as we said goodbye. There was hope in his eyes—optimism I unknowingly put there just by allowing the two of us to get close physically. Continuing to lead him on is selfish and hurtful. Whatever this weird tie is that we have with one another, it needs to be severed. Quickly. As much as I despise myself for having to be the bad guy, I suppose in the end I’m doing him a favor. No man deserves to walk this path with me.
Good grief, the self-pity is at an all-time low today. I thought I’d worked past all that and found a nice, neutral place to exist. It does make me wonder, though, why didn’t I ever feel this way with Damian? He never shook me up or caused me to question myself or my life choices. I suppose it is partly due to the fact that while we dated off on and on for over a year, we were never particularly close. He did his thing, I did mine, and if we managed to meet in the middle so be it.
Now in retrospect, I have to ask myself what kind of man settles for a relationship like that? No one I know would put up with all the rules I laid down, the walls I refused to lower. I may only have my brothers to go by, but I sincerely doubt any of them would tolerate what Damian did. I’d feel bad about that too, if I wasn’t so aware our relationship worked exactly how he wanted it to. I might think of myself as closed off and reserved, but I’ve never met someone more locked up than my ex. I’ve even doubted a time or two that the man has feelings of any kind about anything at all.
Roman squeezes me tight and drops a kiss on my head. “I wish you’d talk to me.”
What do I say to something like that? I wish I could? I wish I had it in me to let go, let loose all that I’ve held in for so long. On any given day I might wish that a thousand times, and each and every time I remind myself how hurt my family would be if they knew the truth.