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The body painter
  • Текст добавлен: 14 ноября 2025, 22:30

Текст книги "The body painter"


Автор книги: Pepper winters



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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 28 страниц)

I hadn’t wanted that either, but not a day went by that I didn’t beg him to tell someone, reveal what sort of hellhole he lived in, so he was no longer used as a punching bag.

Grabbing a box, I sighed heavily. Gil wouldn’t have managed most days at school without relying on popping a few pills. No matter his injuries, he’d only ever let me tend to him—no matter if they were far above my basic skills.

I had a terrible case of déjà vu.

Spinning to leave, I frowned as a whiff of synthetic strawberry shot up my nose. The sweet scent didn’t match the masculine bareness of the bathroom with its grey linoleum and white tile walls.

Glancing into the shower, I scanned the bottles on the glass shelf. Nothing—just a block of cream-coloured soap.

No sign of strawberry anything.

Sniffing the air again, nothing sweet teased me.

Not wanting to snoop, I returned to the lounge and found Gil sitting upright with his phone in his hands. The back of his neck strained. The muscles of his back visible beneath his grey T-shirt.

With a heart-wrenching groan, he raked a hand through his hair, threw his phone to the floor, and rocked over the injuries in his stomach. He trembled as if he wanted to tear apart every piece of furniture all while he almost crumpled to his knees.

My heart tripped all over again—falling over an invisible obstacle, derailing my future all because I was still in love with a man who seemed totally destroyed.

With the lightest footsteps, I padded closer and sat beside him. My hand landed gently on his thigh.

He reared back, his head soaring up, his eyes flipping open. For a second, I worried he’d strike me. I braced myself for something horrible.

But he leashed himself, his eyes bleeding pain. His voice cracked with rage and confusion. “I’m running out of strength, O.” His head bowed. His heavy palm landed over mine and squeezed.

As quickly as he’d touched me, he plucked my hand from his thigh and placed it onto mine with a firm rebuff. He shuddered, inching away from me with a faint, agony-filled hiss. “You can’t be here.”

I didn’t ask why. I didn’t offer to be his strength. That wasn’t how our friendship worked. I merely offered a place of sanctuary. No questions. No demands. Because I’d learned as a young girl that Gil didn’t need someone to tell him what to do. He just needed someone who cared.

Sniffing back years’ worth of emotion, I said, “No matter what’s happened, I care about you. I’m staying until you’re not so in pain.”

He groaned with torment, too exhausted to answer back.

Cracking open the painkillers, I popped three for him and two for me. My head hurt from being used as a weapon against that madman. “Here.”

His gaze tracked to my upturned palm. “We’re not kids anymore. I don’t need you to play nursemaid.”

I didn’t reply, reaching for the glass I’d filled for him and stealing a mouthful to swallow my own pain relief.

Comprehension darkened his face. “Did that fucking bastard hurt you?”

“I’m okay.”

His large hands landed on my shoulders, spinning me to face him. “Olin.”

His eyes trapped mine and he could no longer hide the truth. His amazing, incredible heart that held galaxies worth of love, despite his upbringing. His kindness, his concern, his—

Shutters slammed down, blocking me from seeing anymore. His fingers spasmed on my shoulders before tearing away as if I was made of flame and I’d just scorched him to his very core. “Goddammit.”

Pretending my lips weren’t on fire to kiss him and doing my best to hide my sudden trembles, I held out the pills for him again. “Take these.”

He stared at them as if he didn’t know what they were and he was no longer human. His thoughts trapped within whatever prison he’d wrapped himself in.

I waited. I stayed.

Finally, he reached out and flinched as our skin kissed, his fingers on my palm, taking the offered painkillers. With a tight jaw and tighter muscles, he tossed them into his mouth and reached for the glass.

His throat worked fast, gulping back the liquid before slamming the glass down and standing. “Thank you. I’ll walk you out.”

I stood too, feeling far too small and weak on the couch with him towering over me. I sucked in a breath, ready to fight for what I wanted. “I won’t ask what happened out there, not again. But I am going to ask if you’re in trouble.”

His eyes narrowed. “The only trouble I’m in is because you refuse to obey me.”

“Is it because he thinks we’re together?”

He flinched. “No.”

That was a yes.

“Are you with someone else? Does he think he can beat you up because you’re betraying—”

“No.” He raked a hand through his hair. “This has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me.” His head bowed. “I just need you to go. I need you to go and never come back.”

“Come with me. We’ll go to my apartment and I’ll—”

“Olin.” His snap glued my lips together, embarrassed heat glowed in my heart. “Our past means nothing, okay? Walk away.”

“How can I when I know something isn’t right?”

“Because I don’t want you here.”

Rejection prickled along my spine and over my scalp. “You never used to enjoy hurting me, Gil. Now, you’re an expert at it.”

The blackest shadow swallowed his features, as if he’d been sucked into another dimension where only horrors lived, seeing things I couldn’t, surviving things I feared.

He balled his hands, fury unfurling. “Maybe you’re having trouble remembering our past correctly. Fine, I’ll help with your memory, seeing as you think I’ve lost my manners.”

Winter well and truly welcomed him back, his voice pure frost. “I was a master at hurting you. I hurt you all the goddamn time. I made you fall in love with me, only to dump you in that classroom. I made you believe we had a future, only to walk away without a goodbye.”

The frost melted, his voice sounding strange, strangled. With a remorseful glare, he forced relentless malice into the tone. “I didn’t want you then, and I don’t want you now. You’re embarrassing yourself, Olin. Chasing after a man who has no intention of ever being with you again.”

A tear escaped my control, rolling over my eyelash and gliding down my cheek. “Thank you for reminding me, Gil, of your perfect indifference toward me.” I arched my chin, hugging myself. “But allow me to do the same. For years, I told myself the same thing. I went over and over what happened between us because there were no signs that you hated me until that day. No hints that I annoyed you. No instincts that you were only toying with my heart. You’re right though, I am embarrassing myself. I’m doing exactly what I promised I’d never do if we ever saw each other again. I’m making a fool out of myself trying to make you remember just how perfect we were for each other.”

Swiping at another lonely tear, I shivered with anger as well as grief. “But it wasn’t me who ruined it this time, Gil. I would’ve stayed away after you’d painted me, resigned to losing you seven years ago and strong enough to move on with my life, seeing as you made it abundantly clear you’d moved on with yours. But, here’s the thing...” I moved toward him, standing on my tiptoes so we were almost eye-to-eye. “Then you went and kissed me and the lies fell apart.”

He sucked in a haggard breath. “That kiss meant nothing.”

“That kiss meant everything.

“Get away from me.”

Electricity crackled. Chemistry hissed.

“Why did you pay me triple the amount you normally pay canvases?”

“What?” He bared his teeth. “I don’t know what—”

“You kissed me and paid me far too much money.” My gaze locked onto his mouth. “Why?”

“You’re driving me insane.”

“Answer me.”

His eyes flashed emerald. “Leave.” His nose brushed mine as he bent, forcing the command into my lungs.

I snapped.

My arms swooped up, wrapping like vines around his neck. I yanked him into me, uncaring of his injuries.

He grunted as my lips slammed onto his.

I kissed him as hotly and as fiercely as he’d kissed me. I let him taste the difference between desire and lies. I let him sample my heart all over again.

He broke his tightly reined leash.

His fingers dove into my hair, tangling and knotting, jerking my head back to plunge his tongue past my teeth.

My legs buckled, but it didn’t matter. He scooped me into his arms, squeezing me against him, plastering us together as if he could never bear to be apart.

A savage snarl echoed in his mouth as he kissed me so, so hard.

I forgot about my headache, about this afternoon, about him leaving, vanishing, our jilted love story.

I kissed him with apologies and promises. I opened wide and gave him everything.

And he took.

Ruthlessly and with no finesse, he kissed me as if we were teenagers again, possessed by hormones, in love with the idea of forever.

His head tilted, kissing my mouth, my jaw, back to my mouth. His tongue was a spear, conquering inside me—forcing me to yield to his complicated desire.

I gave in. I wanted him to—

“Fuck!” He roared like a beast, ripping himself away.

I tripped at the sudden emptiness of my arms, wincing at the licking lust that’d turned into a snake inside my belly, devouring every butterfly, sinking venomous fangs into every hope.

He stumbled away as if he had to put distance between us in case he did something unforgivable.

Touching burning lips, I was breathless around tattered heartbeats. “Gil.”

He didn’t reply, tripping his way into the kitchen and gripping the countertop with both hands. White knuckles and braced legs, his head hung between his shoulders as if bowing at the feet of whatever demon who’d trapped him.

I wanted to go to him.

I wanted to hug him, help him, heal him, but...that kiss had ripped out my insides. I was seconds away from bursting into tears. I was lost and hurting, and if I touched him now, I didn’t know what would happen.

Didn’t know if we’d find our way back together or if I’d break everything.

I didn’t want to take that chance.

I wasn’t brave enough to take that chance.

With tears blinding me, I bolted from his lounge, through his office, and into the warehouse. With jerky steps, I fast-tracked to my handbag, grabbed my phone and winced as the envelope of cash cut my finger.

He’d looked horrified that I’d figured out he’d paid me too much. Guilty for paying me for a kiss.

Well, I’d stolen a kiss this time.

We were even.

Placing the envelope on the painting table where his air compressor and paint vials lived, I looked over my shoulder.

Part of me begged him to chase after me. To have vindication that this blinding connection was real. But as my heartbeats grew wilder instead of calm, and my body shook from everything that’d happened, Gil didn’t appear.

He didn’t chase.

He let me run.

He wanted me to leave.

I’ll come back.

I nodded to my promise.

I’ll come back...when I’m strong enough.

When I had the power to break Gil into admitting the truth.

When I had the courage to ask him to keep me.

I had nothing.

I had no dance. No family. No friends.

Once upon a time, I’d had Gil.

And I would fight with everything I had to have him again.

Keep him safe.

With shallow breaths, I slung my handbag onto my shoulder and unlocked my phone.

Keep that bastard away from him.

Dialling the police, I hadn’t gotten two steps before the line connected with a brusque female, “What’s your emergency?”

Protect him.

“Hi, um, I’d like to report an attempted kidnapping?”

The operator tapped something in the background. “Time the incident occurred?”

“About an hour ago. Outside Total Trickery—a warehouse down in the industrial area in Birmingham. He...he attempted to drag me into a van.”

Help him.

“Okay, we’re sending officers right away.”

“Oh, no need. He’s gone. I was able to escape.”

“Do you have a description? A license plate number?”

Heal him.

“Yes.” Opening the pedestrian door to leave, I recited. “I got his plate. It’s XT8—”

Something slammed me into the metal roller.

My phone tumbled from my hand.

I slipped quick and deep into darkness.

OceanofPDF.com

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter Twelve

______________________________

Gil

-The Past-

“YOU DON’T HAVE to walk me home every day, you know.” Olin flicked me a smile.

A smile that held a few months of history. A smile that said we were friends based on time and not just want.

“I know.” I hoisted her bag higher along with mine, carrying both like a gentleman should. I wasn’t a gentleman. But I went out of my way so she never figured that out.

“It’s on the opposite side of town where you live.”

I stilled. “How do you know where I live?” Ever since the incident with the blood a few months ago, I’d been careful to keep everything about my home life a mystery. I liked Olin too much to let her know I wasn’t a straightforward kid like the others in our class. I liked that she liked me for me. I liked that there was no pity in her eyes. No sorrow. No charity.

“I don’t.” She sighed, used to me withdrawing on topics of my health and home. “But I’m not blind and I’m not stupid, Gil.” Coming toward me, she slipped her hand into mine.

Just like the first time she’d done that, I jumped and sucked in a breath, not used to such kindness from touch. Not prepared for the feral need to demand more.

Having Olin touch me soothed something broken inside me, but it also condemned me to more pain imaginable.

Schooling the churning confusion in my belly, I squeezed her fingers with propriety.

We walked for a time, strolling through quaint neighbourhoods and beneath manicured trees before she murmured, “I know you don’t have it easy, Gil. I wasn’t going to ask but...” She tugged me to a stop on the curb of some pretty white house with its pretty white fence. “I’m worried about you. Who hurts you? Your dad? Your mum? You know you don’t have to put up with it, right? We can tell someone. Get you help.”

I yanked my hand from hers, stalking forward with two bags banging against my rigid frame. “It’s late. Your parents will be wondering where you are.”

She laughed sadly, trotting to keep up with me. “You know they don’t wonder. They’re in Italy again this week.”

I kept my gaze locked on the horizon. In the few months I’d been walking Olin home from school, I hadn’t once met her parents.

She hadn’t been lying about living alone.

“Just leave it, Olin.”

We didn’t speak again until I opened the small iron gate and marched up the path to her front door. Her home would’ve been the postcard for any perfect family if it hadn’t been as tainted as my hovel on the other side of town. Mine gave no illusions about being destitute in both love and kindness, but Olin’s lied with its silver sashes and white render.

It said a daughter lived here with parents who made her healthy dinners and helped her with her homework. It convinced its neighbours that the rooms were full of laughter not loneliness.

My heart hardened, hating her parents more each day as Olin danced to my side and slipped her key into the lock. Slipping her bag off my shoulder, I held it out to her. “See you at school tomorrow.”

She turned in the foyer, ignoring the side table with its fake orchids and the plush cream carpet on the staircase leading to bedrooms above. She only had eyes for me as she took her bag, threw it against the coat rack, then grabbed my wrist and yanked me inside.

She knew the rules.

I walked her home.

I left her the moment she was safe.

I hadn’t stepped foot into her house.

I didn’t belong there.

“Olin, stop.”

“Come in, Gil. It’s not going to kill you.” Fighting against my reluctance, she leaned into her invitation, dragging me forcibly into the living room complete with sectional couches, a large flat screen, and white sparkly kitchen.

It couldn’t be more different to the place I lived in if it tried.

My skin crawled to leave. To hide all the bad pieces of me that Olin didn’t know about. I wanted her to continue not knowing, despite wanting to tell her everything.

“I’m hungry.” She jerked me toward the kitchen, grabbed my dirty backpack and tossed it onto a barstool, then pressed my shoulders for me to sit in a matching one. “You’re going to sit there and entertain me while I cook us something. Okay?”

My jaw worked as I fought against her push, eyeing up the front door. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“You should. You are.” Her gaze softened. “Please, Gil. Stay...for me?”

I groaned, slouching on the stool. “That’s warfare.”

“War? You want a war between us?” Her fingers latched onto my shoulders.

“No. I said asking me to stay that way. It’s not fair.”

Playfulness entered her voice as she fluttered dark eyelashes. “Oh, have I finally found a weakness? If I say please, does that mean I get to command you for a change?” She laughed, her hands sliding from my shoulders to cup my cheeks.

“I don’t command you.” I gulped as the heat of her fingers made my heart pound.

“Oh, yes, you do.” She leaned in and brushed her nose with mine. “But I’m not complaining.”

Everything froze.

Our lips were so close.

Our hearts so fast.

All I wanted to do was drag her onto my lap and kiss her. I’d wanted so fucking long to kiss her.

And that was why I didn’t trust myself in her house.

Standing quickly, I shoved her back.

Hurt flashed in her gaze, but she recovered quickly. “I’m making pancakes, and you’re not going anywhere.” Her voice was confident, but it lacked bravery to force me to obey. I could walk out the door, and she would forgive me tomorrow.

But the thing was...I wouldn’t forgive me because how could I ever walk out on this girl? How could I ever tell her just how much I liked her, wanted her, craved her?

Sighing, I raked a hand over my face and begged my body to stop driving me crazy. Olin wasn’t just someone I wanted to sleep with. She was the future I would do anything to claim.

And that meant I couldn’t have her until I knew I had her heart.

Which was a terribly selfish thing to do because until I knew she was in love with me she would know nothing about me. Because once she knew...she wouldn’t want a future with me.

Who would?

I had no money, no security. I didn’t even have absentee parents. I had abuse and drug use and the mixed bloodlines of whores and thieves.

Olin had to love me for me...only then could I be free.

I sat back down.

As my thoughts raced, Olin danced around the kitchen. I would never grow tired of watching her move. Even when she reached for a pen in class or skirted around students in the hall, she danced.

She couldn’t stop it.

Dance was in every droplet of her blood. Every limb elegant, every motion flawless.

I’d sneaked into the ballet recital a few weeks ago to watch her perform. She didn’t know I’d been there, and I couldn’t tear my eyes off her. I’d always found Olin beautiful, inside and out, but seeing her on that stage? Witnessing how a girl could become light as a feather and perfect as swirling snowflakes, I lost the final barricades around my heart.

I was in love with her because she was pure grace.

She had a way of hypnotising me, calming my dismal thoughts, and anchoring me firmly in the moment. She was so fucking good for me. A medicine I needed to take for the rest of my life. She had no idea the power she held over me just by being her.

I feared the day when she learned how deep I’d fallen.

Would she fall with me...or would she pirouette into a future I wasn’t permitted to join?

Companionable silence fell as she pulled ingredients from the pantry. Her feet glided, her head swayed to an unheard beat, her wrists and fingers twitched and arched like delicate swans.

My heart pounded with affection, lust, and a terrifying amount of awe as she cracked eggs, beat batter, and spooned indulgent sized pancakes into a sizzling pan.

She put on a performance just for me.

The second the sweet scents of dessert met my nose, my mouth watered profusely.

It was embarrassing how my body reacted around food.

I was used to the gnawing emptiness in my belly, followed by the over fullness of stuffing my face once a day.

I’d eaten a few hours ago. I was used to not eating again until tomorrow, but what Olin created was fluffy maple syrup magic, and I swallowed thickly as she placed a plate with two round discs covered in icing sugar and dripping in syrup before me.

Her eyes lingered on me as she nudged a knife and fork in my direction.

I did my best not to snatch them like a rabid animal.

All I wanted to do was devour the food she’d cooked for me. The first meal anyone had ever cooked for me. But I forced myself to keep my hands locked on my lap, smile stiffly, and ignore the plate. I did my best to be like the other boys, nonchalant and lazy, as if being fed by the girl I wanted more than anyone wasn’t a big deal.

It’s a big fucking deal.

“You’re like a leaf.” I looked up, cursing the long hair catching on my eyelashes. “When you move, you look like a leaf caught in a breeze.”

She sucked in a gasp.

Our eyes snagged and held. Something endlessly painful sucker-punched me in the chest. An emotion that bypassed teenage flirting and went straight into forever claiming.

I scrambled to delete the sudden awkwardness. “I just meant, watching you cook was the highlight of my day. You’re so pretty.”

She beamed; the pretty blush that always appeared around me turned her cheeks rosy. “You like watching me?”

I laughed darkly. “You know I do.”

I’d told her that. Plus, she’d caught me gawking at her more than once. My fascination with her was obvious.

Her eyelashes fluttered. “Why do you like watching me?”

It was my turn to blush. “Eh, no reason.”

“No reason?” She pouted adorably. “Come on, there must be a reason.” Her lips turned up as her eyes sparkled. “How about I go first?”

My muscles seized. “Y-you watch me?”

Shit, what had she seen? How bad had I been?

She bit her bottom lip, nodding. “All the time. I can’t stop looking at you.”

Fear crawled down my spine. “If you’ve watched me, why are you still here? Why haven’t you run away screaming yet?”

Her face fell. “You act as if I won’t want to be your friend the more I get to know you.”

“You won’t.”

She sighed softly. “You’re wrong, you know. That can’t ever happen.”

I looked at my plate, unable to hold her stare. I daren’t indulge in the quick kick of hope in my heart. Could she feel a tenth of what I did? Could I keep her, regardless of who I was?

More batter sizzled in the pan as Olin murmured, “You can’t scare me away, you know. I see more than you think. I like watching you, Gilbert Clark, because everything you do is assessed, deliberated, and completed with utmost dedication. You don’t waste energy on things that aren’t important. You’re precise and concentrate harder than anyone I know. And if I’m honest, you’re kind of scary with how focused you are when you put your mind to it.”

“I scare you?” My heart no longer nursed hope but hurt.

“Not anymore. Not now I know you.” She looked at me pointedly. “The more I get to know you, the more I like you, so you might as well get used to having me around.”

“I love having you around.” I froze.

Shit.

She smiled. “I’m glad.”

Our eyes locked again, and goosebumps shot beneath my clothes. I wanted to go to her. To ask if she liked me enough to kiss me. But I lived with whores. Kisses weren’t given willingly most of the time. And I would never, ever take something from Olin that she didn’t want me to have.

Olin looked away first, her voice wobbling a little. “Anyway, tuck in.” She flipped the pancake, expertly landing it in the centre of the pan. A skill that said she’d cooked far more than other kids, from necessity not because of hobbies. “Eat while it’s hot.”

“I’ll wait for you.”

“Don’t.” Her gaze met mine again, this time not with naked vulnerability but concern and far too much knowing. She knew what food meant to me. She knew more about me than I’d told her because that was who she was, empathetic and intelligent, putting pieces together to make a whole.

I shifted uncomfortably on the stool, wishing I was better for her.

“Please, Gil...eat. I know...I know you don’t get many meals.”

The sugary smell suddenly made me feel sick. “I’m not hungry.” I didn’t know why pride raised its ugly head. Why it made me so short-tempered.

It made me all too aware of how little I had to offer her. Maybe her friendship was charity, after all? She’d do that. She’d be nice enough to hang out with me if she thought I was lonely.

Bullshit. She likes you, Clark. You just have to man up and accept that, instead of looking for ways to sabotage it.

Flipping the pancake one last time, she turned the element off, then selected a plate for herself. Her motions were smooth and dancing-sensual, but her face shadowed with worry.

Bringing her own snack to sit beside me at the breakfast bar, she cut into the fluffy circle and placed a small bit on her tongue.

She chewed for a moment before turning to face me.

I wanted to run. I wanted to tell her she didn’t know me when she obviously did. I needed the pity in her eyes to go away.

Icing sugar dusted her bottom lip as she hesitantly reached across and placed her hand on my thigh.

I stiffened.

My blood heated.

My body hardened.

I squeezed my eyes and fought back a tattered groan.

She didn’t speak for the longest moment. A moment where I struggled not to grab her. A moment where I lived in a fantasy of carrying her upstairs, finding the closest bed, and learning how sweet her tongue was after eating delicious pancakes.

“I know you might hate me for saying this...but I know, Gil.”

I kept my eyes closed, unable to meet her stare.

Her fingers dug deeper into my thigh. “I know you’re beaten at home. I know you don’t eat much. I know you don’t like leaving school. I know—”

My hand landed over hers, squeezing the delicate bones of her fingers. “Stop.”

“I can’t,” she whispered. “I can’t because if I do, I don’t know if you’ll come back. And I really, really want you to come back.” She didn’t complain as my hand crushed hers. She just continued in her melodic, perfect voice. “You said the first day we talked in the corridor that telling a secret makes us friends. I told you mine, and you’ve become so important to me these past few months. Do you....perhaps...want to share another one with me?”

I struggled to open my eyes and look at her. My heart flew like a wounded bird, crashing against my ribs, breaking a wing, desperate for help but terrified of it at the same time.

I diverted her attention away from my secrets. “Why...why am I important to you?”

She smiled shyly. “Many reasons.”

“Because I walk you home from school?”

“One of them.”

“What are the others?”

With her voice soft, she answered, “You’re important because you look after me even when you don’t think you are. You carry my bag, you sharpen my pencil, you give me cookies from the canteen, you make up silly nicknames for me.”

I scowled. “The nicknames are a stupid idea.”

“Don’t you dare stop, they’re the best!” Her eyes glittered. “You make my days better just knowing you’re waiting for me to start class together.”

I forced myself not to react, even though she’d just given me every gift I ever wanted. “That’s why you like me? Because you don’t feel so alone? Any boy could do that.”

She slipped off her barstool and pressed herself against me. “Any boy isn’t you.” Her head fell on my shoulder. “I have friends. I have company. But...none of them fills up the holes inside me like you do. It’s like...I only need you. And that’s terrifying because I know you hide so much, and I don’t know if you’ll decide that one day—”

“Stop.”

“But you’d tell me, right? If I pried too much or annoyed you enough to push you—”

“Olin.” My voice was fierce. “Enough.”

“I like you, Gilbert, not because of what you do for me, but because of the secrets you refuse to share. You think they’ll change how I care about you.” She pressed a fleeting kiss on my cheek. “You couldn’t be more wrong.”

I clenched every muscle I possessed so I didn’t clutch her close and kiss her back. Kiss her mouth this time. Kiss her until I couldn’t stop.

With my eyes closed, I asked quietly. “You like me?”

“So much.”

“How do you like me?” I opened my eyes, forcing a smile and repeating what she said to me that first day we talked. “Do you like me like me or just—”

“I like you like you.” Her gaze fell to my lips. “I want to like you forever.”

I froze, even as my heart went wild. “Forever is a long time.”

“It’s not long enough.”

I fell deeper into her gaze, feeling the tug to spill everything. Drowning beneath the need to have her know me. Truly, truly know me. To accept me. To no longer fear she’d leave me when she found out everything. To take away her fear that I would ever leave her in return.

Because that would never happen.

Ever.

I would slit my own wrists if I ever thought of abandoning her.

Then you’d leave her in death, you moron.

Okay, I would just have to find a way to be immortal, so Olin would forever be mine.

My hand shook as I reached out and cupped her cheek. She gasped as I ran my thumb over her cheekbone. “Friends isn’t enough anymore.”

Her tongue licked at the icing sugar on her bottom lip. “What does that mean?”

Twisting on the stool, I dropped my hands to her hips and positioned her between my legs. The softness of her blue pinstripe dress that was the school’s summer uniform warmed beneath my touch. I checked my self-control was in full affect, hoping she didn’t look down because I couldn’t hide my reaction to her. Couldn’t pretend I escorted her home because I was a gentleman who kept her safe.

I was the boy who wanted to tear off her clothes and have her beg my name.

I was my father’s son and my father liked his women subservient, submissive, with only money forming a foundation between them.

I was afraid that that was me. That I would fight to deserve Olin only to do something unforgivable.

That was a secret I would never be able to tell her, but it helped make my other one not so dangerous. So what I came from a bad beginning? It didn’t define me. I had no intention of making Olin live such a life.

“It means that I want you to know who I am, so you can decide if you want me.” I sucked in a thin breath. “I live in a whore house. My father is an alcoholic and a pimp. I don’t know which of his whores is my mother. She’s probably dead from overdosing. My room is next to a whore’s whose clients make it impossible to sleep. There’s never any food in the house. My father hates me and loves to prove it.”


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