I’d ended things, he still cared about me, as I did him.
Putting him out of his misery, I finally said, “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. Seriously, Stone.” He didn’t look convinced, however. He reached for my hand, but before his fingers touched mine I pulled away, scooting toward the far corner of the couch.
“Why?” he asked, his shoulders slumping forward in defeat. And heartbreak. He tried to put up a good front for those around him—hell, he even had me fooled sometimes—but I knew I hurt him. What I wasn’t going to reveal was that I was just as upset, even more so because I thought I was falling in love with the temperamental ass.
It was one of the rare occasions I even allowed myself to think such a thing.
Not having to ask him what his question meant, I responded with, “You know why. I’ve already told you.”
Sliding closer, he managed to capture my hand, threading his fingers with mine and squeezing. The pressure was light but enough to draw me out of my own head. I didn’t know how else to explain my feelings, other than what I’d already revealed. The part about me falling in love with him was going to remain locked up tight. If he ever got wind of that, he would be relentless in his pursuit to start things up again.
“I call bullshit,” he tempted. “Yeah, I have a temper and while I try to control it sometimes, it’s like something inside me snaps and I’m powerless to stop it.” Trying to wrench my hand free was futile. “But I would never hurt you, Addy,” he promised, moving daringly close to me. “You believe me, don’t you?”
His intoxicating scent floated around me and, for a brief moment, I envisioned myself wrapped up in his strong, secure hold. Closing my eyes, I allowed myself to feel the pull. To experience this weird connection between the two of us. But I couldn’t remain in that world for too long. My heart could only take so much.
“I believe you would never hurt me physically, yes,” I assured him. “But I’m not so sure about emotionally.” I’d told him the truth. Now it was up to him to let it register in that thick head of his.
“What’s the worst thing that’s gonna happen? Huh? You tell me. That someone might get beat up because I don’t like the way they’re lookin’ or talkin to you? That’s not so bad,” he retorted, trying his best to convince me.
My heart broke a little more because he just didn’t get it. Foolishly, I was hoping for him to acknowledge he had a problem and at least offer to get help for his issue. Maybe go to anger management classes, a thought that made me laugh internally. I couldn’t even imagine a big, tough, bearded, tattooed biker walking into such a meeting. Before I externalized my humor, I withdrew my hand from his.
“You need to leave,” I urged, praying he would get up and walk out the front door. I feared weakening and giving in to him if he stayed too long, realizing I would be putty in his hands if he managed to touch me again.
“Not until we talk this through.” He sat back and braced himself for a fight. I saw it in his body language, but I was tired of arguing. I didn’t have the strength for it anymore, having had something else on my mind. And depending on the results, I would need to save all my energy for that fight instead.
“There’s nothing more to say,” I declared, rising to my feet and trying to walk from the room, but he halted me with a quick grab of my arm. Standing himself, he pressed his chest to my back. He quickly released me only to wrap his arm around my waist and tuck me further in to him, his power and essence wrapping around me like a security blanket.
My dream suddenly rushed over me, as well as his declaration. I can’t protect you anymore, Addy. It was true I felt like I was flailing out there in the world without the reassurance of Stone having my back if I needed him at the drop of a hat. But it had been my decision to set him free, so I needed to deal
Putting him out of his misery, I finally said, “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. Seriously, Stone.” He didn’t look convinced, however. He reached for my hand, but before his fingers touched mine I pulled away, scooting toward the far corner of the couch.
“Why?” he asked, his shoulders slumping forward in defeat. And heartbreak. He tried to put up a good front for those around him—hell, he even had me fooled sometimes—but I knew I hurt him. What I wasn’t going to reveal was that I was just as upset, even more so because I thought I was falling in love with the temperamental ass.
It was one of the rare occasions I even allowed myself to think such a thing.
Not having to ask him what his question meant, I responded with, “You know why. I’ve already told you.”
Sliding closer, he managed to capture my hand, threading his fingers with mine and squeezing. The pressure was light but enough to draw me out of my own head. I didn’t know how else to explain my feelings, other than what I’d already revealed. The part about me falling in love with him was going to remain locked up tight. If he ever got wind of that, he would be relentless in his pursuit to start things up again.
“I call bullshit,” he tempted. “Yeah, I have a temper and while I try to control it sometimes, it’s like something inside me snaps and I’m powerless to stop it.” Trying to wrench my hand free was futile. “But I would never hurt you, Addy,” he promised, moving daringly close to me. “You believe me, don’t you?”
His intoxicating scent floated around me and, for a brief moment, I envisioned myself wrapped up in his strong, secure hold. Closing my eyes, I allowed myself to feel the pull. To experience this weird connection between the two of us. But I couldn’t remain in that world for too long. My heart could only take so much.
“I believe you would never hurt me physically, yes,” I assured him. “But I’m not so sure about emotionally.” I’d told him the truth. Now it was up to him to let it register in that thick head of his.
“What’s the worst thing that’s gonna happen? Huh? You tell me. That someone might get beat up because I don’t like the way they’re lookin’ or talkin to you? That’s not so bad,” he retorted, trying his best to convince me.
My heart broke a little more because he just didn’t get it. Foolishly, I was hoping for him to acknowledge he had a problem and at least offer to get help for his issue. Maybe go to anger management classes, a thought that made me laugh internally. I couldn’t even imagine a big, tough, bearded, tattooed biker walking into such a meeting. Before I externalized my humor, I withdrew my hand from his.
“You need to leave,” I urged, praying he would get up and walk out the front door. I feared weakening and giving in to him if he stayed too long, realizing I would be putty in his hands if he managed to touch me again.
“Not until we talk this through.” He sat back and braced himself for a fight. I saw it in his body language, but I was tired of arguing. I didn’t have the strength for it anymore, having had something else on my mind. And depending on the results, I would need to save all my energy for that fight instead.
“There’s nothing more to say,” I declared, rising to my feet and trying to walk from the room, but he halted me with a quick grab of my arm. Standing himself, he pressed his chest to my back. He quickly released me only to wrap his arm around my waist and tuck me further in to him, his power and essence wrapping around me like a security blanket.
My dream suddenly rushed over me, as well as his declaration. I can’t protect you anymore, Addy. It was true I felt like I was flailing out there in the world without the reassurance of Stone having my back if I needed him at the drop of a hat. But it had been my decision to set him free, so I needed to deal
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