Page 115 of Goldsin

Color comes back into those blue eyes of his, and my lips curve into the ghost of a smile. Something shines in his eyes now. Like he’s done waiting. Like everything is going to be different.

It’s been ten years since the last time helookedat me.

He ignored me for years ... Now I’m all he sees.

I jolt awake, taking in the familiar surroundings of my bedroom.

A shudder ripples through me at the memory of histouch, how starved it felt; how he pulled me closer like he couldn’t get enough—like he’d waited years to do it.

Kicking the bedsheets away from my sweaty body, I turn to the side and squish my face into the cool pillow, hoping the smooth linen will smother the flush spreading across my cheeks. The smell of the clean pillowcase and my honey perfume invades my nostrils, drowning out the lingering scent of Julian from my dream. But it doesn’t last long. His scent is ingrained in me. I’d smell it anywhere if I just closed my eyes and focused on him.

I glance at the thick curtains. The sunrays are filtering in, and dust specks fly lazily around the room. It must be noon. Then I hear banging in the kitchen, and I know I’m correct. Valentine is deliberately making loud noises to wake me up, but I don’t want to get out of bed today. Not after last night.

I need a break from the Harrows. I need a break from life and my plan.

At the mention of him, the memory of his lips branding my skin resurfaces. The way his hand would ever so lightly squeeze my hips, or how he’d bite me whenever I moaned too loud, just to make me moan even louder.

It’s like I can see that night so vividly now. The veil of the alcohol has been lifted and every single detail is inked into the backs of my eyes.

The muscles of his arms going taut as he guided me up and down.

The veins in his neck when he clenched his jaw,tilting his head back, anytime I swayed my hips in a figure eight.

The way light reflected in his eyes when he looked at me—even though it was the middle of the night and there was no light shining on us.

How was I able to forget all of that?

I bury my face in my pillow, grunting all my frustration away, but the material grazes the soreness on my neck, eliciting a hiss out of me. I instinctively cover it with my hand, the fresh wound pulsing uncontrollably.

Lucian’s bite floods my mind, burying any memory of that night with Julian, and I feel like getting sucked in by the comfort of my bed for the rest of the day.

The exaggerated noises coming from the kitchen cease. I hear footsteps echoing next before the creaking of the door.

Valentine appears in the doorway, his tall frame filling the whole space as he scans my disheveled appearance, judgment etched in his features.

“You can’t avoid life forever,” he says in his signature gravelly voice.

Sitting up, I pull the covers around me, up to my neck, careful to hide Lucian’s bite. “Easy for you to say,” I mumble.

If I want to leave my bedroom, I’ll need to get washed and ready first, and to do that, I’ll need to go into the bathroom and come face-to-face with myself in the mirror—withhisteeth engraved on my skin, making me feel everything again.

Making me sick.

I think Valentine rolls his eyes at me. “Here.” He pullsout an onion from his back pocket, extending it to me. “I thought about bringing the knife, but considering your current state, I figured it was best not to.”

“Ha-ha, very funny.” I play a little with the onion, rolling it from one hand to the other as I try to contain the smile that curves my lips at the gesture. “I could always just peel it.”

“Don’t expect me to stay,” he huffs. “The years of me crying in front of anyone are long gone.”

His words pull a warm-hearted chuckle out of me, leaving me weightless enough to appreciate all those years of him taking care of me.

He gave me a father when I lost a mother. He gave me a home when I was never granted one.

He picked me up and hasn’t dropped me since.

“How’s your plan coming along?” He ambles around the perimeter of my bedroom, his hands locked behind his back as he waits for an answer. “Tell me about your progress.”

I’m so thankful he isn’t asking me about last night. There’s so much I want to ask him, but if I do, then he’ll ask questions back, and I don’t think I can stomach telling him about Lucian.

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