Текст книги "The Girl Of Diamonds and Rust"

Автор книги: Susan Ward

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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

My gaze anxiously moves around the chapel. God, it’s tacky here. Maybe this is a mistake. Maybe I’m being lame and not spontaneous and romantic.

I lean into Neil and bring my lips close to his ear. “We don’t have rings.”

He shakes his head. He continues to write. “I don’t have a ring. You do.”

My eyes widen, and he smiles into my questioning gaze, hands the required papers and our licenses to the clerk and pays.

OK, why so secretive, Neil?

A registry of some kind is shoved under my face. The lady points at a line. “Sign here.”

After we finish signing, the clerk goes into the back for the justice of the peace.

“What do you mean I have a ring?” I ask.

Neil reaches into his pocket for his wallet. “You’re a size six ring finger, right?”

I nod, alertly watching as he rummages in his wallet for something.

“I’m glad I got it sized right. No chance to fix it now.”

I try to see what he’s grabbing and he makes little motions so I can’t. He starts lowering to a knee.

Tears sting behind my lids.

“I’ve been carrying this for six months,” he says. “If you don’t like it, we can get something else. It was my grandmother’s wedding band. My mom wanted me to have it for you.”

I don’t want to cry, but I can’t stop it.

“Christian Parker, will you marry me?”

~~~

A strange sound pulls me from sleep. There is a moment of confusion before my eyes lock on the tacky Vegas strip hotel room, and I wonder where Neil is, and why there is the sound of sloshing water near the bed.

Then I see Neil. There are candles all through the room, surrounding that ridiculous Jacuzzi tub that for some reason isn’t in the bathroom. He is sitting in the center, the champagne we didn’t drink at dinner and two glasses resting on the tile edge.

I laugh at the nonsensical picture he makes and rub the sleep from my eyes. “How long have you been up?”

He smiles at me, his eyes lustrous and mildly dissipated at once. I flush. That was a poor choice of words.

“We have an early plan tomorrow,” he says, filling the champagne glasses. “I thought we should probably use the tub before we’re out of here. We’ve never done it before in water.”

I watch him rise, comfortable in his long-limbed body. He’s a gorgeous guy. It’s like I’m seeing him for the first time, or maybe differently now that I know he really is mine. No wonder all the girls at CAL were crazy over him. He is fucking gorgeous.

He leans in, claiming my mouth with his. His tongue dances with my own, bringing my senses fully awake. He eases back. Against my lips, he says, “I love you, Mrs. Stanton.”

The look in his eyes. The way he says that. That he wants to say that overwhelms me.

He scoops me up from the bed and carries me to that obscene tub. It’s suddenly absolutely perfect. There is a beautiful view through the wall of glass. Lights twinkling at night can make any city look beautiful, even Vegas.

I watch him, bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, as he lowers me into the water and then against him. His long-boned fingers start to roam my flesh as his lips return to mine. His head dips toward me, his lips a teasing presence on my neck, his hands a knowing glide across my flesh. I watch him move across my body, kissing and touching and cherishing me. He lifts me up, bringing me down to glove his erection. His mouth is greedily working at my breast. His cock is hard in my body, moving with delicious intensity. Fully filling me. His fingers are stroking me wondrously.

I wrap my limbs tightly around him and melt into his touch. I can’t recall a time I’ve ever been this happy or felt this consumed by Neil.

~~~

We are dangerously close to missing our plane.

I stare at Neil’s long fingers holding mine as we run down the ramp toward the waiting plane. I’m struggling to keep pace with Neil.

“Hurry up, Chrissie. If we miss the plane we’ll miss Jack’s party. We should have left last night.”

“I didn’t want to leave last night. And I’m trying to hurry, but I have to take two steps for each one of yours. And you fucked all the energy out of my legs.”

He pulls me against him. “You want to start a family right away, that’s how you do it. Marathon fucking.”

I flush, hoping that no one near us heard that, and then crinkle my nose since marathon fucking isn’t the least bit romantic of a phrase.

Jeez, why are guys such jerks at times?

Before I can stop him, Neil has my black bag under an arm and is lifting me in the air to set me on his shoulder.

“Put me down, Neil. This is humiliating.”

“We’re not going to make it at your speed.”

He carries me at a jogging pace to the boarding gate. He is panting by the time we reach it. He helps me slide down to the floor, but his strong arm keeps me close against him. He is kissing my neck, my hair, and pushing me forward in line with the lower part of his body.

Yuck, we are being watched, even stared at. I try to pull away and Neil holds me in place.

“You have to excuse us. We just got married,” Neil says loudly, to no one in particular.

I flush, embarrassed, but suddenly people all around us are smiling. Somehow he manages to kiss my neck, hand the boarding passes to the attendant and continue the gentle massage of his lower body pushing me forward.

We run down the ramp, barely onto the plane before the door shuts, and drop into our seats.

Once we’re in the air, I curl into Neil, and put my cheek against his shoulder.

“I don’t want to tell my dad we got married during the party. I want to wait until tomorrow, OK?”

Neil gives me an exasperated look. “You should have called Jack before, like I told you to. It might have been picked up by the wire services. He might already know. We should tell him when get there.”

Crap, I hadn’t thought of that.

“Today, but after the party. Privately. Not surrounded by people.”

He gives me the look, the Chrissie is being confusing and a pain look, but he nods and sets back his head, closing his eyes.

“I don’t want to stay at the party very long,” I add. “And I definitely don’t want to stay at my dad’s house. Let’s get a room down by the beach.”

“Fine, Chrissie.”

I kiss him on the jaw and close my eyes.

Ninety minutes later, we’re in the Santa Barbara Airport terminal, grabbing our bags and rushing for the rental car counter.

Once we’re on the road, I grab my black bag and freshen up my makeup in the visor mirror. I shove my stuff back into the bag as we pass beneath the black metal arch of Hope Ranch.

I turn to face Neil. “Do I look OK?”

“You’re beautiful, Chrissie. You always look beautiful.”

We pull into my dad’s driveway and are stopped by a valet. Shit, there are a ton of cars here, valet parking and people everywhere. Jack went all out for the foundation fundraiser this year.

A guy in a red vest and black pants taps on our window. Neil rolls it down.

“You can’t park in the driveway,” he says.

I lean across Neil and stare at the valet. “Can you move that barrier so we can park in the garage? This is my house. I’m Christian Parker.”

The guy flushes, embarrassed, and pulls back the sawhorse blocking the driveway. We park and climb from our seat.

I take in a deep breath. “We made it. We’re here.”

Neil laughs, lying his arms on my shoulders. “God, you are crazy today. What’s up with that?”

“This is a really big thing for my dad. He doesn’t do parties. He does one party a year to raise money for the foundation. The inner city music programs were my mom’s work. I think it’s Jack’s way of making everyone remember my mother. It’s important to him. He was really upset I didn’t come last year.”

Neil’s face grows sweetly sympathetic. “Then I’m glad we made it in time for the party, too. And I won’t mention we got married, though I want to. And I won’t try to maneuver you into a bedroom during the party to make love to you today.” His eyes do a rakish once-over of me. He grins ruefully. “Nope, won’t do that either, even though you are wearing that little black dress that drives me insane.”

He takes my hand and I’m laughing as we rush to the front door.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

I sit on a white-cushioned rattan couch, part of one of the intimate groupings scattered all across the lawn. Everywhere there are people, a band on the stage, long buffet tables and bars, lawn lights lit, and fire pits near the seating to heat up the misty air of early evening rolling inland from the Pacific.

It’s a magnificent party. Jack went all out this year. He was so happy when he spotted us crossing the lawn, his magnificent blues twinkling. He cut out of the circle around him to immediately trot across the grass to give me a hug. It made me smile that he hugged Neil, too.

I take a sip of champagne from the flute dangling from my fingertips, and my gaze rests on Neil. He’s enjoying this party almost as much as Jack is. We’ve been sitting with the Delmos, laughing and talking for four hours.

It’s just been that kind of thing. A pleasant kind of industry party. These strange personalities pulled together for a cause, checkbooks open, everyone having a good time, laughing and talking and crowding the dance floor.

I love that Jack put it near the cliffs this year. My gaze fixes on my dad. Jeez, he’s dancing with Linda Rowan. It was a shock to arrive and find the Rowans here. I didn’t even know that they were friends with Jack. Maybe they are not friends. When Delmo arrived he stared at the gathering and called them the fat wallet club.

I don’t know. It’s strange that Jack has spent so much of the evening with Linda, and more strange that he’s dancing. And even stranger, the Rowans came without any of the others from the Blackpoll mob. They’re such a cliquish circle. Though I should be relieved none of the others are here. If I ever see Kenny Jones again it will be too soon.

Neil breaks in his conversation with Vincent, leans back into the cushion and looks at me. “What’s wrong? You’ve got the strangest look on your face.”

I shake my head to chase away that kind of irked and don’t know why feeling. I smile. “This is going to sound lame. But I’ve never seen my dad dance before.”

Neil looks in the direction of my stare. “So Jack’s dancing. What’s the big deal?”

“He doesn’t even know Linda Rowan and they’ve been dancing together most of the night.”

“Jack’s probably trying to be a good host. It doesn’t look like Len is interested in anything but that brunette practically sitting on his lap.”

I look across the lawn at the couch Len Rowan hasn’t moved from all evening, and make a face. Poor, poor Linda. I don’t know how she puts up with Len, his roving hand and his dedication to fuck everything that moves right in her face.

“Shit, don’t ever let us become like them, Chrissie. I don’t know why some people get married.”

“I don’t know why anyone gets married,” Nicole announces and then shudders.

I bite my lip and then Neil gives it a playful tug. My gaze moves back to the dance floor against my will. I don’t know why I’m bothered by this.

Neil notices my preoccupation again.

“I tell you one thing, if anyone ever danced with you the way Jack is with Linda, I’d punch them, Chrissie.”

Startled, I turn to stare at Neil. “What? What do you mean by that?”

He gives me a look. “The way they’re holding each other isn’t an I don’t really know you kind of thing.”

I make a face at him. “You’re crazy.”

“Fine. I’m crazy.” He brushes back the hair from my shoulder and leans in to kiss me lightly on the side of my neck. Into my ear, he whispers, “Can we leave now? I am really ready to leave.”

I blush and pull back. “How ready are you?”

He brushes my ear with his thumb and then with his teeth does a light nip on my lobe. “Very, very ready.”

“What’s up with you two?” Delmo asks suspiciously. “You’ve been acting weird all evening, like there is something going on that only the two of you know about.”

“Stop giving them a hard time, Vinny,” Nicole exclaims, stomping out her cigarette in an ashtray. “If they wanted us to know they’d tell us.”

Neil shrugs by way of answering them.

I climb from the couch. “Stay here. I won’t be long. And then we’re leaving.”

“Where are you going?”

“Maria hasn’t been at the party all night. I didn’t even get a chance to see her before we got caught up in this. I’m just going to go to her room and check on her. I won’t be long. I promise.”

I drop a kiss on Neil’s mouth and hurry away. I maneuver through the guests and then I’m past the low fence markers that keep the house and pool blocked off from the party.

I rush around the side of the pool house and run straight into a body. I look up and my insides drop to the floor.

No. No. No. What is Alan doing here?

“If you run, I will humiliate you,” he warns, his voice icy and clipped.

I take a hurried step back from him. It feels like I’ve just brushed up against fire and by the way he’s staring at me there isn’t a shred of doubt he’d humiliate me. Disjointed pictures of the party in New York flash in my head. Every muscle in my body stiffens at once.

He takes my hand in a grip that hurts and before my mind can catch up with what he’s doing, I’m locked in the pool house with him. He moves away from me and I lean back against the door, breathing heavily.

He stops on the far side of the room and turns to stare at me. He rakes a hand through his dark, wavy hair. He looks coiled with frustration and something else I can’t decipher.

It feels like hours instead of seconds passing with him saying nothing. Why the hell doesn’t he say something?

I swallow down the lump in my throat. “What are you doing here?”

He arches a brow, amused. “I was invited, Chrissie. I’m invited every year. I don’t come. I send a check. This year I came. You are a very difficult person to reach these days.”

“I’m not difficult at all. I don’t want to talk to you.”

He settles on the sofa beside the fireplace and takes his cigarettes from his pocket. He lights one. He shakes his head and his posture changes, a loss of intimidation and aggressiveness.

“You don’t have to stand there hovering against the door like you might need to run,” he says softly.

I lift my chin. “I’m not. I’m just trying to figure out why you’re here.”

Those potent black eyes lock on mine and I can see it. The way I’m behaving hurts him, and in spite of how he started this, it’s not Mean Alan sitting in here with me.

“Chrissie, you’re behaving ridiculously. Sit down. A few minutes of your time. That’s all. You’ll never hear from me again.”

Never hear from me again. My heart reacts unexpectedly severely to that and I fight to keep how that one hurts me from my expression. I slowly move from the door and settle in a chair across the coffee table from him.

“What do you want?”

He runs his hand through his hair and then holds the black waves in the clutch of his fingers. He lets out a long exhale of breath. “Christ, I wish you’d read my letter. I don’t know how to say the things I have to say to your face.”

My brows shoot up. I’ve never heard Alan sound so anxious and unsure before. I feel a crack in the wall around my heart and I don’t want to.

“Then don’t say them. Whatever you think you need to say to me, Alan, don’t. I’m happy. I don’t want to hear it.”

He looks amused again. Amused and sad. His expression confuses me and I lower my gaze to focus on my hands resting in my lap.

“I don’t doubt you don’t want this any more than I want to be the one to do it to you,” he says quietly.

Oh no, what does that mean? Do what?

“I care about you, Chrissie. No matter what’s happened between us, I will always care about you. I would never want to hurt you. And I would never lie to you. You believe that, don’t you?”

My thoughts are spinning and I nod. I don’t know why, It’s crazy and I don’t even know why he’s here after all this time, but I do believe Alan. When he talks to me this way I know in the center of my being it is the truth.

“I will regret not calling you back last year as long as I live,” he says in a rough, desperate sort of way. “I’ve hurt you in inexcusable ways. I was angry. I was hurt. I behaved horribly to you, but not one time did I ignore you because I’d stopped loving you.”

I don’t look at him, and I stare hard into a vacant space in the pool house because I can feel myself weakening. If I look at him, I will fall to pieces.

“You’re the only person in my life that matters to me,” he says. “It’s why I’m here, Chrissie.”

I take in a deep, shuddering breath to steady me. “Only I’m not in your life, Alan. Not anymore. You shouldn’t have come here. It would have been better for us both if you hadn’t.”

“Better for me, yes. Better for you, no, love.”

I feel on the verge of tears and I don’t trust my voice to ask him what that one means.

“There is not a thing that happens in your life, a thing you do, that I don’t know about,” he says.

Everything starts to run frantic and loose inside me.

“I never meant for my anger to hurt you,” he continues. “If I had known before I would have stopped you.”

Oh no. Is that why he’s here? He knows about last April? How does he know?

I can’t breathe. I can’t feel my legs, I can’t feel my arms, but somehow my body rises from the chair and moves toward the door.

“It doesn’t matter, Alan. If you had called me I wouldn’t have changed my decision,” I whisper with more injury in my voice than I want to show. “I don’t want to talk about this with you. Not now. It’s too late.”

I’m almost to the door when he stops me. He whirls me around to face him. Those potent black eyes lock on mine directly and the lockbox breaks open. It all tumbles out. My hurt. My regrets. My love for him. In leveling waves, real and present and consuming me.

He takes my face in the palms of his hands. “Please, stop hurting yourself because you hate me. I can’t bear knowing that all this has happened because you hate me.”

I say it before I can stop myself. “I don’t hate you, Alan. I love you.”

“Then don’t marry Neil. It’s in all the trades. It’s why I came here today. Don’t marry Neil because you hate me. Don’t hurt yourself again because you hate me. I couldn’t live with that. I swallowed my pride to come here. I couldn’t let you hurt you again.”

He pulls me against him, surrounding me with his flesh, and he is trembling with his emotions, as frantic and despondent and in pain as I am.

I don’t know why I do it. Maybe it’s because this is goodbye. Maybe it’s because I want to stop this. Maybe it’s because Alan is crying.

I lean into him and join my mouth with his. His mouth moves on mine tentatively at first, only gentle contact. Then it deepens on its own, and I can feel it changing, that we are both changing what this is.

I pour all my hurt and heartbreak of the last year into our kiss, and it happens as it always did—the second I touch him, I am lost in him and we are lost in each other.

I shouldn’t do this… And then the words in my head are silenced as Alan puts me on the bed.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

We lie together, not touching or kissing. Disconnected and yet really connected in that way we share and haven’t shared for too long for the both of us, I think. It is us. Connected in the disconnect. Sexually spent, emotionally messy and raging internally.

I turn in Alan’s arms so I can see him. His eyes are midnight black and guarded, and he is unnerved by what we just did, too. I can tell he didn’t intend this. This was not why he came to the party to see me.

My confusion and distress kicks up. No longer able to meet his gaze, I roll away and my eyes lock on my ring. My simple gold band on my left hand.

“I’ve got to go,” I whisper, barely able to push the words past the lump in my throat.

I pull from his arms, climb from the bed and gather my clothes. My shaking hands make feeble attempts at securing my clothing back into place. Why did I do this? How could I be unfaithful to Neil? What power does Alan have over me that I could forget everything good in my life just to screw him in the pool house? That in a flash, everything inside me is turned upside down. That the strongest impulse I can feel raging through my veins is to trash my marriage and go back to Alan?

Alan sits up and settles on the edge of the bed. There is something on his face that makes me anxious and afraid. The room fills with heavy silence.

“Stop dressing, Chrissie,” he whispers, his raspy voice with an edge again.

More heavy silence. I continue to move, dressing like I’m numb. The lump in my throat is strangling and I can’t look at him because if I do I won’t ever be able to say and do what I have to.

“I have to go, Alan.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” he whispers, his voice raw. He crosses the room, stopping my hands, stopping me. “You are not walking out that door until I’ve said everything I came here to say to you. Not this time, Chrissie. It is too important.”

“I love you,” I whisper, almost unable to push the words out of me. “I always will. But whatever you have to say to me doesn’t matter. Not anymore. Let it go, Alan.”

I lock gazes with his intense black stare. His face changes in a flash from passion-kissed to alarmed. “Doesn’t matter? What the fuck are you trying to tell me, Chrissie?”

I struggle not to drop my gaze. I step back from him and continue tidying my clothing.

He grabs my arms again. “What are you saying, Chrissie? Answer me.”

I twist out of his hold. I quickly step back. If I stay too close to him, I will crumble. I have to get out of this room and away from Alan. Soon…or I will crumble…

Alan scrambles from the bed. “You are not leaving, Chrissie. I have not said everything I need to say to you. Baby, don’t go.”

I move to the door. My fingers tighten around the doorknob. “You’re too late, Alan. I’m married.”

The look on his face—what am I seeing in his eyes?—is not the reaction I expect to see and the way those black eyes stare at me catapults my world into a shaky, shadowy mess.

Quickly, before Alan can say anything else, I slip through the door.

There is no one on the patio and, while I’d rather run into the house and hide there, I hurry back to the party, desperate to get Neil away from here.

I spot Neil still sitting on the white couches where I left him. I cross the yard to him, unable to look up even though people occasionally speak to me as I pass.

I don’t wait for a break in conversation. “I want to go, Neil. I’d really appreciate it if we could leave now.”

He sets his drink down, and when he looks at me his eyes fill with alarm. “What’s wrong? Are you OK, Chrissie? What’s happened?”

The worry in his voice makes shame flood my veins and I can feel that I’m starting to shake. Damn, I just want to hold it together until I’m out of here. Then figure out somehow how to explain to Neil what I’ve done. Beg him for forgiveness. I don’t know. My thoughts are spinning out of control, and all I can think of is to get away from here.

My shaking intensifies and I can feel heavy stares on me and I know I must look more of a mess than I thought.

“Stay right here,” Neil says in an urgent and anxious way. “I’m going to tell Jack we’re leaving. Don’t move, Chrissie. Wait here.”

I stand there numb for a few minutes, but it feels like an eternity. Finally I see Neil cutting through the party guests back toward me.

He places a hand on the small of my back and starts guiding me across the lawn.

“What happened?” he asks. “Can you tell me that?”

I’m so ashamed.

“Not now, Neil. I promise I’ll tell you everything. Just not here. Not now.”

He shakes his head in aggravation. “Fuck, Chrissie, what is going on? You’re scaring me.”

I ignore him. I can’t talk. Not now. I’m going to break down if I do and I don’t want to do it surrounded by people. That would be even crueler than what I just did to Neil and our marriage.

We’re almost to the patio when Alan exits the pool house. The two men lock eyes, and Neil’s body goes rigid beside me.

I look up at him and I know with sinking dread that Neil has put the pieces together. He knows I was alone in the pool house with Alan and what happened is why I’m dragging him from the party now.

Panic overwhelms my senses and I feel him start to move away from me. Frantically, I lock my hands onto his arm to try to hold him back.

“What the fuck did you say to her?” Neil shouts, enraged.

Alan calmly arches a brow and locks simmering black eyes on green. “We didn’t get a chance to talk, if that’s what you’re worried about, Neil,” he snaps in a pointed and dismissive way.

The earth falls from beneath my feet. There is absolutely no way to misinterpret that statement. Not from Alan. Not with how he says it.

I try to keep hold of Neil, but my fingers lose their clutch on him. Before my anxious eyes, I see him shoot across the yard toward Alan.

“You asshole,” Neil hisses. “Do you have to fuck up every life around you? You stay away from her.”

My heart stills in my chest. I have never seen Neil look like this. Not in his most angry moments. Oh no, not like this. If there was a speck of doubt in me before today that Neil fucked up Andy as severely as the rumors claim, it died with what I see on his face. If he lets loose a punch it won’t end with one punch. He’s going to screw up his life again, only this time it will be my fault.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.

I move quickly, trying to get to them before Neil hits Alan, and then, out of nowhere, Len Rowan appears between them, his hands planted on Neil’s chest. Even through my panic-dulled senses, I can tell by the motion around me and the stir in the air that everyone at the party is fully aware of this hideous confrontation.

“Settle down,” Len says, struggling for air as he quickly maneuvers to hold Neil back. “You don’t want to do this. Not here. Not now. You’ll fuck up your life. One punch. Everything you’ve worked for gone, over. Get it?”

Neil shoves him back, but it looks like some measure of control has returned to him. He is shaking with rage, raking a hand through his hair over and over again, but he’s not charging at Alan anymore.

“Would you please go?” I whisper anxiously, my eyes imploring Alan.

He looks at me and something in his gaze turns me ice cold. He starts walking away.

“I’m sorry, Chrissie,” he whispers as he passes me.

Neil erupts again, moving his body between me and Alan. “You don’t fucking speak to her. Not now. Not ever.”

Alan stops walking. Oh shit. Neil, why didn’t you let him go? I try to move between them again, but Neil won’t let me.

“How could you marry her?” Alan exclaims, his timbre carrying to the four corners of the yard without effort. “How the fuck do you live with yourself?”

Numb with disbelief, I frantically try to make sense of what I’m seeing in Alan’s eyes and hearing in his words, but before I can do either he turns to leave.

Then everything happens all at once, so quickly my mind can’t keep up: Neil grabbing Alan by the shoulder; whirling him around; the sound of his fist landing in Alan’s jaw; the explosion of flashes as the press runs toward us, cameras snapping pictures with each step; the shouted questions from every direction.

“You fucking stay away from her,” Neil growls, standing above Alan. “You don’t talk to her. You don’t try to see her. You stay the fuck away from my wife and from me.”

Stunned, I can’t find my words.

For some reason my gaze desperately moves to Alan and not Neil. Our eyes lock. Alan says nothing. He stares at me and my heart jumps into my throat. Why are those great black eyes so full of pity and anguish as they look at me?

Before I can make reason of it, Neil is dragging me to the house, shouting no comment with every step. Inside he pulls me with him to a bedroom, slams the door and locks it. I stare at him, afraid and unsure how to manage this.

His fingers drop away from my wrist and he moves to the bathroom. Oh crap, he’s bleeding. What have I done?

“We should go to the hospital, Neil. You might have broken something.”

His jaw clenches and unclenches as he holds his hand under running water. After a few minutes he shuts the tap off and wraps his hand in a towel.

In the bathroom doorway, he stops, staring at me with eyes wild with pain and something else I’ve never before seen. The knot in my throat becomes strangling.

“I don’t ever want to talk about this,” he says with a quiet voice that makes me jump. “I don’t want to know what you did in there with him. Not ever.”

I nod, even though I’m not sure where he’s going with this.

Those green eyes lock on mine. “Do you want our marriage, Chrissie? Or do you want him?”

Neil waits for my answer, and the expression on his face turns my mind blank. I speak without even attempting thought. “I want you, Neil. I want you.”