Because, shit, I’m babbling.
I’m really fucking babbling.
Lennon nods. “It’s really nice.”
“It's smaller than our place back in L.A. but it’s state-of-the-art and suits our needs. I mean, sometimes we might need to travel back to record, but for now, it works.”Goddamn. I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Lennon.”
“Yes?”
“Can you tell me why you’re here, because I’m sounding like a fucking idiot here.”
She smiles, and yeah, she can’t do that.
She can’t do that and expect me to function like a normal human being.
“That’s fair. I guess every time we’ve seen each other hasn’t exactly been…amicable.”
“I don’t mind your claws, kitten.”
The acoustics in here are amazing and I easily catch her soft gasp as well as the flare of heat in her eyes before she lowers her lashes and turns away from me.
“Can I take off my coat?” she asks.
“Whatever you want.”
She unbuttons the dark red pea coat, then slides it off her shoulders. And I clench my jaw, trapping the demand to put the damn thing back on. But as she reveals her perfect body in a black sweater and high waist jeans that conform to her tits, hips and thick thighs like a paint-by-numbers drawing, my cock hardens and throbs behind my own jeans. It takes every bit of self-control I possess not to fist myself, bend her over that sound board, rip those jeans down her ass and pry into that three-sizes-too-small and utterly perfect pussy.
Spinning around, I retrieve my bottle of water off the floor near the couch. I don’t turn around as I down ever last drop and order my cock to stand down, that it’s not having her today. Yeah, he’s not having it. And honestly, I’m having a damn difficult time accepting it, too.
“King?”
“Yeah.” I toss the empty bottle in the trash can and, taking a deep breath, face her again. And pray she doesn’t look down. “It’s been a week, Lennon. And no offense, but you are the last person I expected to see at my house. I can’t imagine this is a visit for shits ’n’ giggles.”
“No,” she murmurs. “No…shits ’n’ giggles.” She pauses, her gaze seeming to search my face but for what, I don’t know. “You have a gate out front. Did you have the access road secured, too?”
“I made the call as soon as we came down off the hill.” Frustration churns inside me, and I rub a hand over the back of my neck. “Don’t tell me that’s what you came here to discuss—my security measures.”
“I’m struggling, King. You’ll have to give me a minute.” She glances away from me. “The whole drive here I practiced what I’d say to you. I had it all planned out. But now, I’m drawing a blank. This isn’t easy for me.”
“Just say it.”
My voice doesn’t sound like everything in me ground to a halt. Or that unease has my chest in a merciless vise grip.
Wiping her palms on her thighs, she walks over to the armchair Gideon vacated and lowers herself into it. She rubs hands together and studies them. After several seconds, she tilts her head back and meets my gaze.
“When you first came back to town, I said I hated you. That’s not true. I don’t know if it’s ever been true, because what I feel toward you isn’t as simple as hate. Sometimes I wish it were. The way things ended with us, I never had closure. One day we were in love and the very next, you were gone. No reason and I had nothing but a letter that left me just as confused as your silence. I felt powerless because you took my choice, my voice. And I was so angry with you for that. Not just angry but deceived and betrayed. Because you, of all people, understood what it felt like to be abandoned by someone you loved and depended on. You knew how much it hurt and still did that to me.”
“Len”
She holds up a hand, palm out, halting my apology. Because I’ll give her as many “I’m sorry”s as she needs.Whatevershe needs.
“No, I don’t need you to tell me you’re sorry. Sorry can’t unbreak what you’ve broken and it falls a little empty when you’re still lying to me. Because you are still lying, King. And again, you’re doing it, knowing how I feel about it. Dad lied to Mom by cheating on her when she was dying from stage four breast cancer, and I had to be the keeper of that secret. And both of them kept the truth about how sick she actually was from me until she only had weeks left, stealing time I could’ve spent with her from me. It’s the thing I can’t abide, and you’re hiding something from me. Even if we could get past the violation of trust, this…” she shakes her head, her eyes solemn, “this we can’t.”
She isn’t saying anything that I haven’t said to myself. Yet, hearing it from her? It hits different. Like a fucking sledgehammer.
There’s shit I can say. Iamlying. Knowingly. Deliberately. My reasons don’t matter. Intentions paving the way to hell and all that. And that’s where I am. Hell.
“So you’re here to tell me that you don’t hate me but you can’t do this…” I wave a hand back and forth between us. “Whatever the hell we’re doing.”