Page 127 of Into These Eyes
“The man I hate,” he says softly, bringing me out of my reverie. “What made you say that?”
I gaze into his gentle, curious eyes, so at odds with the man from minutes ago. “You’d gone somewhere dark, somewhere I couldn’t reach you. That look … like you were made of stone. It reminded me of who I imagined you were when I thought you were guilty.”
“The inspiration for your little hate-poem?”
I nod, ashamed of that teenage girl. “I thought a little reminder of who youaren’tmight bring you back before you did something to land you in back prison.”
“Yeah,” he mumbles, placing a hand over mine. “You’re right, I almost fucked up. Hearing you say you hate me was like a bucket of ice-water to the face. Thank you. For bringing me back.”
“I was just protecting that guarantee you gave me this morning, that’s all.”
His lips twitch for a moment before his expression grows serious again. “I’m so sorry, J. My behaviour was totally out of line. It’s no excuse, but when I saw him touching you,hurtingyou, I just lost it.” His thumb brushes over my fingers, genuine remorse shining in his eyes.
“You scared me,” I admit.
“Yeah, I really wish you hadn’t seen that side of me.”
“No, that’s not what I meant. I want to know every side of you, no matter how imperfect. What I was scared of, was losing you.”
He lets out a long exhale, his eyes a little shinier than they were a moment ago. “Christ, Jamie. You know how to make a guy feel on top of the world and humbled all at once.”
I give his arm a reassuring squeeze.
“Anyway,” he mumbles, “I’m sorry. That wasn’t much of a date.”
“Who says?”
Beneath the lamplight, his eyes bore into mine. “I kind of blew it at the end there. Not to mention the fact I couldn’t look at you the way I wanted to.”
Like the way he’s looking at me now, reminding my entire body how good he made me feel at that table. “Yet, it still had its moments.”
His eyes burn into mine. “You’re right. There were moments. Certain moments that prove you weren’t lying last time we were standing at a kerb waiting for a ride.”
I frown before it dawns on me. “The time I don’t remember?”
“Yeah.” He’s grinning now, a spark of mischief in his eyes.
“But that can’t be right. You said you’d told me everything.”
“Memory can be fickle.”
I poke him playfully in the ribs. He doesn’t even flinch. “And what was it you thought I was lying about?”
“You might not want to know,” he teases.
I poke him again, but I may as well be poking a rock.
“Last time, you told me I was turning you on.”
“I didnot,” I gasp. “There’s no way—”
“Oh, yeah, you did. Then you tried to climb me like a tree.”
“Nowthat, I know, is bullshit.”
His body hitches against my side as he chuckles. “Alright, I might’ve exaggerated that part, but you were very hands-on.”
Even though I don’t remember, I’m sure he’s right. I don’t have to tell him he’s turned me on tonight. He’s felt it for himself.Tastedit.
