But he was out now, after some long, painful rehab. He strode out to Macca’s car, a few of his mates summoned by a series of angry phone calls. They’d passed him a beer as soon as he got in, trying to be all jovial and shit, but he’d shut that down pretty quick.
“I need a fucking car and a tank full of petrol. I’m going after that bitch.”
33
Sen left the bedroom first, which made sense, I guessed. My head jerked up as I heard the door open, and I saw that dark clad back leave before shutting it with a quiet little snick. Something started to ache inside me at his absence, at his second absence.
That one… my Tirian growled. It was shocking to hear uncertainty in her voice. Too closed off. Walls too high.
But why? That was a question it felt like my instinct ruled beast didn’t ask enough. I wriggled out from under my guys, but Noah reached for me sleepily, trying to tug me back down.
“I didn’t keep forcing you to come,” he mumbled.
“Something for later,” I promised with a kiss, then let him fall back to sleep.
I padded along the carpeted floor, grabbing my robe and putting it on when I saw the back door was open. The bright daylight stung my eyes, but my sense of smell told me where Sen was.
His eyes flicked to me when I walked out onto the patio to where he lounged on one of the outdoor chairs. He held a burning cigarette up and said, “Sorry. Appalling habit but…”
I just nodded, resting my hips against the table a distance away from him. Out of range of his smoke, but also him. I let my eyes catalogue him—the relaxed slouch, the faraway look as he stared out into the garden, the fingers clasping the cigarette. But then there was the tension in those muscular thighs, the way he avoided eye contact, the steadily growing silence.
I felt a sharp stab at that of…what? Rejection? How could I feel like that, with a bed full of blokes ready to go rounds one, two, and three inside? Why wasn’t I with them now, listening to the hush of their breath, feeling the heavy, comforting weight of their bodies against mine? Why was I here with the one who looked like he wanted to get away?
“Sen…” I fought to say the words.
Just spit it out.
Women didn’t do that, weren’t supposed to question the relationship dynamic. A million self-help books told me that what I was about to do was destined to drive him off. So be it, I thought. I’m done pussyfooting around.
“Is everything OK? You seem…”
He snorted at that, then took one last drag of the smoke before crushing it under his foot, picking it up, and placing it in the bin. He loomed above me, the bright light creating a halo behind him as he came back.
“I’m sorry I’m not falling at your feet.” I jerked, stung. The words were harsh, even if the tone was mild. “Not like that.” He shook his head with a rueful smile. “I’m not doing this well. Because that’s what you deserve, Flick. For us to fall down upon our knees and worship you. When I saw you there with Noah…” Those grey eyes flicked away again. “There’s a generosity in you, an openness, even after you’ve been through all that shit.” His gaze returned, and then I saw the terrible intensity there. “It’s fucking terrifying. How can you…? You… Fuck.”
I watched his hands clench along with his jaw and his head shake, as if that would help him to force the words out. I pushed myself away from the table, because I was done being scared. Maybe going to him now would scare him off, drive him away. Well, if that was the case, he was never the one to be with me.
I walked over, his eyes tracking me like I was some kind of approaching predator, but he didn’t run. He held himself tightly, only flinching a little when I reached out and placed a hand on his chest, resting my body against his. The other went around his waist, and I laid my head down on his sternum and just listened, to his breath and his heart.
Something in Sen made him want to run, I could feel it in the faint tremor in his body. But something equally wanted to stay, to unleash all of what he was so obviously keeping held back on me. I closed my eyes, focussing on the sound of the garden and him.
“Fuck…” he growled low in his chest. “You make this so hard.”
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His arm went around me, and he held me to him, tangling his fingers in my hair and then stroking it smooth.
“Come on,” I said, pulling away and walking back into the house with no idea whether or not he was following, going past my bedroom into the spare one. Noah’s paraphernalia littered one side of the bed along with his clothes, something Sen smiled at when he did enter the room. I got on the bed and tucked my limbs up against me, needing the comfort of a body pressing into mine and making do with my own. He went to join me, but I shook my head.
“Either lose some of the clothes, or I go and put a whole lot more on.”
I wanted that, a shell of fabric around me. He made me feel uncertain, where before, he had guided me with a sure hand. I felt its loss now, felt stung that it had obviously taken some effort on his part to be the one that shepherded us through this process.
An effort he couldn’t or wouldn’t be able to maintain.
But he got to his feet, tugging his t-shirt off and revealing that beautiful chest. His hands went to jeans, an eyebrow cocked in question. I nodded, and he stripped out of them too.
When he lay down on the bed, skirting the remains of Noah’s play, I saw that one thing remained true—he was still attracted to me. It was kinda pathetic, but seeing the hard lump of him in his underwear at least gave me some kind of solid ground to negotiate it. So not a sex thing.