Page 88 of Inside the Sun

Then I turn the mower back on, face away from him, and get back to work.

It takes everything I have. Mental strength, emotional control.

I know I hurt him, maybe even broke something in him. How many more times will I have to saygo awaywhen it’s the last thing I want?

But I shouldn’t be getting involved, ending up failing the people who are my own flesh and blood, my innocent brothers.

And Sun… he should understand that I’m a stranger to him. He’s not supposed to trust me. Hell, for all he knows, I could be part of one of Anzo’s twisted loyalty tests, because it works both ways.

Doesn’t he see that? Or is he really that set on self-destructing?

As I work on trimming the grass, my thoughts won’t stop.

The pace at which our connection, our chemistry, is developing is unnerving, some kind of instant-lust-crush or whatever you wanna call it. Not my usual thing.

I fail to understand why it’s getting harder and harder to ignore him. Something, like real magic, ispullingme toward him. Silly, immediate attraction thing.

I’m not someone who gets easily interested in other guys, anyway. I’ve always kept my sex life to the bare minimum, careful not to get distracted, focused on my job.

Some guys in the military fuck in storage rooms on the daily as a stress relief. But I was always picky about who I took there.

And one thing's for sure: I never went after someone just because I liked the way theylooked. That's just not me.

As the trimmer eats up acre after acre of grass, I reset myself firmly back to default settings.

I came here as a soldier on a mission. And instead of focusing on that, my head is full of pink bubbles and my dick keeps getting hard for someone who’s off limits.

And for what? I don’t do emotional attachments anyway. I don't get into relationships. I don't let people get close. For many reasons, but one sticks out the most.

I’m a monster.

Not like Anzo, but still a monster. Made of flesh and blood.

People should stay away from me.

Especially Sun.

SUN

There are two days left until the banquet, and I spend the time drifting between the room, the hallways, the patio, doing nothing, unsure what to do with myself. Another day has passed, and I haven’t seen Ragnar for half of it.

Yesterday at the pool… I admit I went crazy; it was an impulse. But for a second, seeing that hunger in his eyes, I thought,The hell with being careful! If he just let it take over, maybe for a moment I’d feel free.

I try to sort through everything calmly, to lay out my feelings and come up with a plan, but it’s all jumbled. Like a damn puzzle with a warped piece that won’t fit, no matter how I twist it. Nothing fixes it.

I thrash around on the bed, permanently stuck in the chaos of my own thoughts.

I don’t even feel like playing the harp. I don’t feel like doing anything. I just want to get the hell out of this fucking place.

Last night I had to fuck Anzo again. He said I was ‘half-assing it’, so afterward he shocked me with the collar and hung me from the hook. Bastard.

God, I just want sex to feel normal again. Not like some grotesque, forced act I have to perform on a person I despise.

I want to be held. Kissed. Touched. I need it, desperately.

It’s not even the physical part.

I just want to matter to someone. But not like I did to Martin, or Diego, or Misha, or Stephen… Not as a trophy boyfriend. I want to feel like someone actually gives a damn about me. Like they want me to be happy, not just use me.

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