LUKE

 

With the curtain drawn shut in the bedroom, when I awake, I can’t discern what time it is. It’s almost pitch black and it’s taking a while for my eyes to adjust, so I spin my feet over the side of the bed and search for my clothes with the sense of touch using my feet. I manage to find my underwear and shirt but can’t find my jeans, but that’ll do for now.

Inch by inch, I slowly make my way to the door so as to not awake her. I’m using my best ninja skills, and they seem to do the trick until I pull the door open and it creaks. I freeze in place and glance over at Ella, visible now by the light coming through the cracked door. She looks so damn peaceful and innocent while she sleeps, and unlike the night before, she’s not snoring. My eyes linger on her for a minute longer until the guilt is almost too much to bear.

I make a quick getaway out of the bedroom and push the door gently shut behind me. The sun is high in the afternoon sky and burning bright and hot against my retinas. I wince, trying to adjust to the light after having awoken in a pitch-black room. I’m disoriented from sleeping all morning. It’s been years since I’ve been able to do that, but I’m working on being well past the point of exhaustion. This line of work can really make someone tired, and I’m not immune to that.

I climb into my underwear and tug my shirt over my head before stepping into the kitchen to grab a cup of freshly brewed coffee. No cream and no sugar. I like my coffee black. It matches my soul.

You’re not a bad guy, I have to tell myself. But as the too-hot coffee scolds the edge of my lips, I can’t help but to feel like that’s a dose of Karma slapping me in the face. I’ve never felt guilty before after bedding a woman, but something feels different about this time. I contemplate my actions as I drop down into the comfortable chair opposite the couch and gaze out at the window, watching the world outside. From up here on the thirty-seventh floor, it feels like I’m living in another world, like I’m detached from the reality below.

Hell, that’s probably just the tiredness talking. I wish I could chalk the guilt I’m feeling up to that same tiredness, but I couldn’t get that lucky. I take a sip of the black coffee before placing it down onto a coaster atop the coffee table.

“Man, I’m a real asshole,” I scold myself out loud and shake my head.

“Why are you an asshole?” Ella questions from the doorway, leaning against the frame. It’s enough to take me off guard so much so that I almost kick over the cup of coffee sitting in front of me as I jerk in place to face her. She bites into her lip and chuckles playfully. “And why are you talking to yourself?”

“It’s nothing,” I promise her between flat lips and scratch nervously at my nose. “And I’m a crazy person,” I joke. “I’m always talking to myself.”

She’s wearing nothing but an oversized tee shirt as she begins to step towards me and then behind me. I try to follow her with my eyes, but that’s an impossible feat unless I possessed the uncanny power to twist my head on its axis. Instead, my eyes trail to the glass windows to watch her reflection as she approaches my rear and throws both arms around my neck. Her hands drape against my chest, caressing me as she breaths heavily against my ear.

I push myself forward, away from her touch, and climb to my feet. I can see a confused look pass across her face in the reflection ahead of me. It only makes the guilt that much worse.

“Is there something wrong?” she questions lowly, almost weakly. She’s so far removed from the woman I first met. It’s like all her strength has left her body. Maybe that’s because she’s slowly been pulling back the curtains, or maybe it’s because she feels used. “Did I…I mean…did I do something wrong?”

“Of course not.” I sigh and twist to face her, running my fingers across my dry lips. “It’s not you. It’s me.”

“Jesus,” she scowls, crosses her arms over each other to stand in a defensive position. “Could this get any more cliché?”

“It’s the truth.”

“You know you can’t break up with me, right?” She makes her away around the chair to pace towards me. “Because we’re not even together.”

“No.” I shake my head. “That’s not what this is.”

“Then why don’t you tell me what it is, then?” She’s right in front of me now, her head cocked upwards so that she can get a good look at me. She presses one palm against my chest, softly at first and then closer and firmer. It’s like she’s holding me into place while she demands answers. “Because right now, I’m confused as hell, and I hate feeling that way.”

“It’s not that simple,” I growl. I drop a hand to grab her by the wrist. “But if you absolutely have to know, then the problem I’m having is that I feel like a real asshole right now.”

She’s physically taken aback, jerking in place while she tries to understand what I’m saying. The very fact that she seems to be confused should be enough to make me second-guess my own doubts, but it’s not.

“I feel guilty because I feel like I took advantage of you.”

“What?” she scoffs incredulously and rolls her eyes so hard that I’m terrified they’re going to disappear into the back of her head. She has such beautiful, soul-piercing eyes and I’d hate for them to go to waste. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I?” I cock a brow. “Because it’s what I feel.”

“Well, stop feeling that way because you’re wrong.”

“How am I supposed to feel?” I throw my hands up in the air in defeat then twist on my feet to stare out the floor-to-ceiling windows. It’s easier to look at the world outside than it is to look at her right now. “You ripped open the closet door that housed all the skeletons of your past. You showed real, actual human emotions, and the second you did, I took advantage of you.”

She laughs from behind me, shaking her head in absurd delight. “Okay, you need to stop right now.”

I meet her gaze in the glass windowpane.

She continues, “You have nothing to feel guilty about. I assure you that this was something I wanted.” She reaches for my arm, but I swat her away. She’s intent though and reaches again, this time grabbing me by the wrist and forcing me to turn around. “I’m telling you what you need to hear, and it doesn’t seem to be enough.”

I avert my gaze so that I’m looking right past her instead of looking at her. “You’re telling me what you think I want to hear, when in all reality, the only thing I want to hear is the truth.”

Her palm falls upon my cheek before she’s turning my head so that she can look at me. Her eyes glimmer underneath me, evoking a real and total sense of honesty. “This is the truth. The whole truth and nothing but the truth—”

I crack a smile and interrupt her, “So help you God?”

“So help me God.” She wets her lips and continues, “I opened up to you not because you forced me to, but because I realized that I couldn’t outrun my past forever. And I realized that if I was going to open up to anyone in this world then that person should be you.”

“Why?” I shake my head. “Of all the people in the world, then why me?”

“Because,” she forces a smile that’s torn between pain and ecstasy, “you’re the only person in this world who has the power to make me feel safe.” She pets my cheek with one finger. “And you can take that to mean whatever you want it to mean, but in my world, that means that I think I’m falling for you.”

I swallow nervously. The last time I fell for a woman, it didn’t exactly go well. I only have myself to blame. I was younger back then, naïve and stupid. There was this girl who lived next door and she was everything I ever wanted in a woman, and I was apparently everything she ever wanted in a man. It was after my first tour in Iraq and I was still scarred from the battles I fought overseas. It’s not an excuse, but as soon as she wanted to take the next step and move in together, I cheated.

“Please don’t say that,” I say lowly and push past her. I’m being a little boy, but that’s who I always become when I’m faced with things that terrify me. There’s not a lot in this world that terrifies me—snakes and spiders are just about the beginning and the end of that list—but she absolutely terrifies me. “Let’s just forget that this night happened,” I suggest and pivot back on my feet to face her. “Let’s just go back to me protecting you.”

She chuckles under her breath. “We can’t go back, Luke. And more importantly, I don’t want to.” She begins to close the distance between us again, and I’m very seriously considering running. “But maybe, I’m wrong.” She stops dead in her tracks, a realization passing over her face. “Maybe I’m wrong about you, about us. Maybe you were using me.”

“That’s not it,” I grind out, my teeth chomping into my bottom lip. “I wasn’t, not intentionally.” I twist around and level my palms against the surface of the marble counter. “From the moment I met you, I’ve wanted nothing more than to protect you.” I spin back to her throwing my arms out wide. “And that’s what I’m trying to do right now. If we get involved with each other, then I don’t know if I’m going to be able to separate you as a client from something else—and that could get the both of us killed.”

“We’re already involved.” She shakes her head furiously and closes the gap between us. I’m cornered between her and the marble counter, and I’m not sure at this point which surface is harder. “Maybe we’re not irrevocably linked forever, but can you honestly stand there and tell me you don’t feel something for me?”

I’m quiet for a moment, trying to sort out my thoughts. “I feel something.”

“There.” She shrugs and takes a measured step back. “That’s all you had to say.”

“There’s more,” I spit out before I decide to change my mind, before I decide to retreat back into my shell. “There’s something about me you should know. And I’m just going to say it before I lose my desire to do so.”

“What is it?”

I drop my head and purse my lips, exhaling a breath of hot air. “I have attachment issues.”

She snickers under her breath and moves her hand to cover her mouth. She clears her throat and affixes her gaze on me. “It’s not like I’m trying to marry you or anything.” She rolls her lips together, her cheeks turning a blush shade of red. When she can’t hold it in any longer, she erupts into a childlike fit of laughter. “It’s kind of funny, right?”

“Yeah,” I snort. “Hilarious.”

It’s not though. While it might be something me and the guys joke about to ourselves, it’s different when it’s a girl I’m falling hard for that’s making the same jokes.

She lunges forward and hooks both arms behind my head, stands on the tip of her toes, and kisses me simply on the lips. It’s enough to elicit a cheeky grin from my own lips before my hands drop to the curves of her ass. I lift her with two strong hands and rotate her to sit her down on the ledge of the counter. Standing between her legs, I have to hook my eyes upwards to get a quick glance at her, and when I do, I find an amazing view of her eyes burning bright and hot and boring down onto me.

“Let me take you on a date,” I say, cocking my head while I eagerly await her reply.

Her fingers dance along the back of my neck, her teeth sinking against her lips. “Like a real date?”

“I don’t know if it’s the kind of date you’re used to.” I shrug. “But yeah, why don’t we get out of the house?”