Page 32 of Delirium

A killer headache was one thing. But if I left him alone, and he threw up, passed out, and asphyxiated, would that make me a killer?

This was why I avoided the ethical side of science. Once I started down the rabbit hole, it was hard to pull myself out. Spending time around Scarlett, and thinking about the ethics she brought into her research, complicated things.

James made the decision for me, gesturing to the seat across from him. “Go ahead and sit. I can read you as clear as day. You’d think you’d have a better poker face for all the lying you’ve done.”

I rolled my eyes, stalking over to the table and slamming my plate down. “I never lied to anyone. I’ve been very upfront about exactly why I’m here, and why I ended up on the boat. I have no reason to hide anything.”

“Sure. And being on this boat is the best goddamn thing that ever happened to me.” James laughed, a bitter sound that reminded me more of broken glass. I wanted to hear Scarlett’s laugh again, not his. I didn’t need this shit tonight, not when I’d been in such a good mood before.

Maybe being a good person wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

“What the hell is your problem tonight?” I snapped, grabbing my plate again and getting ready to stand. “I know your natural setting isasshole, but you don’t invite someone to sit with you just to insult them.”

“God, you’re touchy.” James sneered and took another sip. “I promise not to insult you anymore. Now quit being such a pussy and eat your sandwich.”

I huffed and sat back down. I hated people. I hated them so much. This was why I enjoyed my work with the environment more than I’d ever enjoyed my work with other people.

Humans weren’t good. They were just degenerates doing their best to hide their rotting souls by putting the blame on someone else. James wasn’t the exception, and if I hadn’t known Scarlett would look at me with disappointment in her eyes if I left and something happened to James, I’d be long gone. Fuck people, man…

“I heard you.”

I paused, my sandwich midway to my mouth, trying to focus on what James said and not my inner thoughts screaming at me. “What?”

“I heard you.” James met my gaze then, his eyes searing a hole through me. “You and Scarlett. I heard you. I heard her…”

“Oh.” For all my bravado, discomfort radiated through my chest at the ache that was so clear in James’ eyes. Two seconds ago I’d been hating the fact we were a part of the same goddamn species, and now here I was feeling guilty? No. Something was wrong with me. Give someone a single orgasm and apparently he was a changed man.

He took another hard sip, eyes glassy. Who knew how long he’d been down here drinking before I saw him. I had a feeling it was longer than I realized. “I heard her come. I heard…I heard you make her come.”

Fuck’s sake. I knew the walls were thin in the boat, but that thin? I didn’t really care, and a part of me was kind of proud he heard exactly how good I made Scarlett feel. I wanted to shrug and say he deserved to hear. But something in his eyes wasn’t sitting right with me.Jealousy? I was silent, putting my sandwich back down on the plate, unsure what to say.

James opened his mouth, and closed it again. He eyes fell closed and he took a deep breath before opening his mouth again. “Did you use your fingers? Your tongue? Your cock?”

I wasn’t a shy man. But it felt wrong to discuss Scarlett like this when she wasn’t here. I wasn’t the kind to kiss and tell. Besides, I kind of felt protective of our time together. “I…I don’t think that’s my story to tell,” I muttered.

When James opened his eyes again, the emotion spilled out. “Please. I would never ask, but I…” He trailed off, finishing the last of his drink and meeting my gaze once more. “I need to know what she tastes like. What she feels like. I need to know what she looks like when she comes or I’m going to go mad. She hates me. I know that. I’ve accepted that. But not knowing this, and knowing I’ll never know…”

“James, I…” I didn’t even know what words to say. How did you discuss a situation like this? I couldn’t believe I didn’t recognize his unease as jealousy before, because my own jealousy bubbling beneath my skin could never be mistaken for anything else.

“Please,” he begged again. “I know I’m no better than lowlife scum right now, and I can’t believe I’m begging. Me.” He scoffed. “We don’t beg in my family. We turned down beggars, and told them to learn their lesson in the next life. And here I am, fucking drunk over a woman I’ll never have a chance with. I just can’t stop thinking about her, Camp. I couldn’t sleep. All I could see is what she would look like if she was underneathme, the way she should be. The way my name would sound on her lips.”

I held up my hand and shook my head, feeling only the slightest bit sorry about how he would feel in the morning—if he even remembered. Maybe his drunkenness would be his saving grace. “James. No. I’m not going to tell you anything. If you want to know, you’ll have to ask Scarlett yourself. I’m sorry you heard us.” I got to my feet, all of my simmering jealousy suddenly rushing to the surface. I shook my head as I grabbed my food and headed for the door. “Actually, you know what? No. I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry you heard us. Maybe it’ll be good for you to learn some humility. Your name isn’t going to get you everything in this life. Maybe you’ve never begged before. But it’s never too late to start. You’ll never get me to talk about what happened between me and Scarlett, because that’smine.”

James was silent, watching me with an unreadable expression on his face. Maybe I couldn’t overpower him physically. But words? Words I could do.

The sad, rich man sat alone at the table. I scoffed. “Those moments are mine, James. Not yours. And they’re not something you can buy, either.”

The kitchen door slammed closed behind me after I left, but I didn’t care who I woke up. Someone else could deal with James, because he wasn’t going to take anything from me.

Shewas mine.

Now I just needed to get her to admit it, too.

Chapter

Twelve

JAMES

---