“I’ve wanted to do that all day, and if I did it once we stepped inside this house, I don’t know if I could stop myself. I’m okay with not being a gentleman because that’s not who I am and not who you love. Asking permission to kiss you? Never going to fucking happen.”
I read into his actions, his intent as he steps away and collects his bags before pushing the door open. He’s trying. Trying to be respectful of the clear boundaries I’ve set, trying to take things at my pace, despite the impatient man he is.
Once inside, he keeps his gaze averted as if it pains him to look at me. “Go take a shower. I’ll walk Beau and warm up this soup for you.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
He pauses at the threshold of the living room, his shoulders tense, his back to me. “Just let me take care of you tonight. Tomorrow you can glare at me, yell at me, put me in my place, or whatever else you think you need to do to make yourself feel better about letting me in the door. However, you haven’t eaten, and you haven’t slept since I got here, and I don’t want it to start this way.” Without waiting for my response, he makes his way toward the kitchen, and I watch him retreat, shoulders heavy while tracing my swollen lips with my finger. Every part of me wants to go after him, seek his kiss again, feel his weight on top of me, to give in, but my mind wins, and I make my way toward the shower.
When I’m freshly dressed in my flannel pajamas, I walk into the kitchen to see the steaming bowl of soup and a note next to it.
Went for a run.
His absence brings me no relief. Never would I have thought it would be so hard to communicate with Tobias after all this time. At this point, no matter how well we once meshed, we feel like very intimate strangers. Everything about our dynamic has changed. For the first time ever, he’s not sneaking into my bedroom under Roman’s radar, and we have the ability to be open with each other, open publicly about our relationship without the repercussions that threatened us before. I take a seat at the table feeling oddly guilty at the space I’m putting between us because I can’t fathom how this is going to go, or worse, the feeling that it will end again…it’s just a matter of when and how.
Will he up and leave the first time the brotherhood faces a serious threat? Will this small town—a simpler life—bore him to the point he’ll feel coming here was a mistake? I hate that my fear stems from investing in him again, only to watch him leave. I hate that I’m so fucking afraid to embrace the idea of us permanently. But he’d forced me to let go of it. He forced me to imagine life without that possibility. But mostly, I hate that it’s all, once again, on his timeline. Numb, that’s what I decide I am for the moment. Numb. And it’s for my own protection.
After eating half the bowl of soup, I decide to retire early, irritated by the fact that I’m a little uncomfortable in my own house due to consideration of him and what he might be expecting from me. I only manage to gloss over a chapter of a new book before my errant thoughts start to dissipate, and exhausted sleep claims me.
Age Sixteen
“Get out!” Victoria screams as I towel off and glance out of the bathroom to see Dominic standing at the threshold of my bedroom, with an eyeful of my naked girlfriend. He plays deaf to her protests, a smirk lifting his lips. “Get out, you little pervert,” she shrieks, white-knuckling the sheet she pulled up to her neck.
“Out, Dominic,” I bark. As he lingers in the doorway, spiked blond hair appears over his shoulder. Sean is feasting on her as well.
“Get the hell out.” Securing the towel around my waist, I cross the room and push them back in one firm shove before slamming the door in their faces. I turn back to Victoria. “Sorry, they’re young, curious idiots.”
“Get a damned lock on your door,” she lashes out before dropping the sheet and pulling her bra from the floor.
“No need. I’m leaving in a week.”