I chuckled. He wasn’t lying.
I only wanted one girl, though, and when she came down the steps, I heard her immediately. Her voice was like sex on a stick that I wanted to lap up. When I turned to look at her, the punch to my gut hit much harder than men in the military when we were scrapping. In ripped jeans and a black sweater that didn’t even do a mediocre job of hiding her curves, she looked more mature, like she’d grown up in only six months. Like I was missing moments with her. She went to hug my mom and let everyone fuss over her for a minute. She was the kid sister, and Izzy was out of juvie now but still hanging with the wrong crowd.
My mom immediately asked how school was going and if she’d made any good friends.
“School’s good. I’m sure you’ve heard that I’m going into nursing. And I’ve made friends. It’s been great.” She drifted off, and her eyes searched the room. When they landed on me, they froze. Hazel and gorgeous. They were rainbows of green and gold twisted up with fear and pain. Then, her cheeks blushed that familiar rosy pink and she continued, “It’s been busy, really busy.”
“I bet. I know college is full of booze and boys. You make sure you have some fun with both.” My mom nudged her and laughed. Delilah tore her stare from mine and giggled at my mother’s joke too.
She murmured that she was going to help with food and then floated out of the room just like she’d floated in, without a hello or a how are you. Without so much as an I miss you.
It didn’t take long for neighbors to stop by and for the Hardy Christmas to get into full swing. Alcohol was flowing, mistletoe was hung, and Mr. Hardy was at the piano trying his best to sing “Let it Snow” like he did every year. We ate ham and cheesy potatoes and probably a million different desserts, surrounded by family.
Izzy showed up with her crew. Mrs. Hardy rolled her eyes as they all beelined toward the punch bowl. “Izzy, don’t drink too much now. You know alcohol can be a gateway—”
“Mrs. Hardy.” I threw an arm over her shoulder and steered her away from Izzy, winking at her. “Let’s see if you and my mom can out-sing that husband of yours, huh?”
Mrs. Hardy laughed, and Izzy mouthed thank you like she couldn’t handle her family harping on her anymore.
I got it. She’d done her time in Juvie. She’d gotten clean. Except her family seemed to think she wasn’t really all that clean because of how she presented herself in front of them.
Still, my mother and Mrs. Hardy sang “White Christmas,” and they harmonized so well together, you would think they had been going door to door caroling their whole lives.
Joy flowed through us all.
But the rage in me grew and grew.
She wouldn’t look at me.
When she did, it was like a storm of misery passed over her features. She combed her hands through her hair when I held her gaze at the end of the night, right before Dom told me to get ready to go to Ray’s.
As she disappeared down the hall, I nodded to him. “Sure. Going to go to the bathroom and tell your mom thank you for the dinner. I’ll meet you guys there.”
He shrugged, not thinking anything of it, and filled his flask before Dex yelled at him to hurry up.
I was down the hall in half a second, following the girl of my dreams before anyone could see my real objective.
She turned and gasped when she saw me right behind her, but I didn’t give her time to object. I yanked her into the bathroom and shut the door.
When I turned the lock, her eyes bulged, and she poked me in the chest. “What are you doing? Someone might find us in here!”
“Your brothers just left, and our parents are entertaining the neighbors. We’re fine,” I said, then leaned against the door to ensure she didn’t try to make a run for it.
“Well, I…” She twisted her dark curls, and then her hands were wringing themselves together. Her gaze jumped everywhere in that bathroom but never landed for one second on me. “I have to get back to my room.”
“Lilah,” I murmured while trying to get her attention, but she kept looking down. “Lilah. Look at me.”
She took a breath, and this time it was shaky, like she was pulling in air she could barely hold. “I don’t want to.”
“Why?” I croaked out and hated that it sounded so full of my own anguish. “I wrote you. I know it wasn’t much, but I was gone. I was doing a job. What happened between us?”
“What happened?” she whispered. “Nothing. Nothing happened. We slept together a few times, Dante. And then we were better off not together.”
“Is that so?” I asked and saw her bite her lip. She was struggling with something, but I was struggling with losing her. My pain wanted revenge, and even though I knew I should have kept digging to figure out what the real problem was, I wanted her pain even more. “Better off how? Better off with me going to fuck some random woman in this town tonight because I can’t have the one I want?”
She gasped, and then her eyes met mine with a fire that was bold, full of an emotion other than pain. “You don’t mean that.”
Finally, I saw life when she looked at me. I saw a reaction rather than regret. I pushed the envelope further. “Mean that I’ll fuck someone else or mean that I still want you? I mean both of those things. The latter more than the former. I’ve always wanted you, and I probably always will. And it’s your fault, Lilah. You dragged me down into that fucking hole, and now I can’t climb out.”