Page 14 of Beast of Misty Mountain

But I can’t.

I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anyone. But she doesn’t know what she’s really asking for. She only has a finite amount of time to give me.

“I’m sorry,” I say. My voice is raw. “It’s not you. I—can we slow down?”

She nods, but confusion and pain fill her eyes. Fuck. I don’t know how to convince her that she’s perfect, and it’s me who’s broken. She’s so fucking beautiful and amazing, and I’m…not. The voice in my head that says she’s too good for me is one I can’t stop hearing.

Her green eyes search mine. Her lips part, then close again.

I want to tell her that this has never happened before. That she’s the only person I’ve ever let this close. That she’s under my skin in a way that terrifies me. That I’m not rejecting her—I’m afraid I don’t deserve her.

But the words get stuck.

I look away.

She steps back and hesitates. Finally, she says, “I’m sorry. I misread the situation,” wrapping her arms around her. “It won’t happen again.”

She picks up her tank top and holds it over her chest, then grabs some clothing and walks out of the bedroom, silent. She doesn’t give me time to say anything. I don’t even know what Icouldsay.

I stand there, half-naked. Dark and profound self-loathing claws at me, laughing at me for thinking a woman like Marilee could be a part of my life.

I’ve fucked things up.

She didn’t slamthe door when she left, but I heard her car leave. The silence of her departure was worse than if she had been screaming and throwing things. Her silence felt more…final. And the idea I had one shot and blew it, no chance for a do-over or try to talk to her? I feel like the shittiest motherfucker to walk the face of the earth.

I close my eyes and try to slow everything down, but the moment replays in sharper detail. Her flushed cheeks. Her kiss-swollen lips. The warmth of her hands as she peeled my shirt open, fingers brushing scars she hadn’t seen yet. And then—her face when I stepped back. The confusion. The pain.

My mouth had opened. No words came out.

Now it’s too late. I’m such a damn idiot.

I should have gone after her. Should’ve said something. Anything. But I didn’t—couldn’t—move.

Instead, I walk to the kitchen and grab the half-empty bottle of bourbon. I twist the cap off and don’t bother with a glass. My bare feet carry me through the cabin and out to the hammock. I step out the back door into the night air, letting it hit me full in the face.

I cross the yard to the hammock and ease into it with a long, exhausted breath. The bourbon burns as it goes down. It doesn’t help, but I drink anyway.

She was supposed to be a temporary roommate. Not ideal, but I’d told Hank he could rent the place. When I arrived, my anger was from surprise and having had a long, tiring journey home. I don’t know any man who’d be mad at finding a sexy woman like Marilee in their bed.

I remember thinking that the first night I found her in the cabin, standing there with wide eyes and fire in her voice. I wanted her gone. Wanted my space back, my routine, my quiet.

And then she fought to stay. It shouldn’t have been difficult—and it wasn’t. I got used to her being here faster than I ever would have imagined possible.

She made it feel like a home.

I take another long drink and close my eyes, letting the ache roll through me. It’s not just the sexual frustration. It’s not just her body that I want.

Regret twists raw in my chest, not letting me forget I might’ve lost the best thing that’s happened to me in years.

But when it got real, I panicked. I couldn’t follow her into that space. Not without risking everything. Not without showing her all the broken, wrecked parts of me that I’ve kept hidden.

The fear of being seen as irredeemably damaged has ruled me for years. Tonight, it made me pull away – even after Marilee wasn’t scared when she saw the scars.

I stare up through the tree branches, watching the stars blur at the edges. I drink again, hoping the heat will smooth out the sharp edges in my chest.

I keep telling myself I did the right thing. One week from now, she’ll pack her bags and drive down the mountain, like she was always meant to do. Back to her life.

Letting it go too far would’ve only made it worse. Right?

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