Page 86 of Rivals
“We can consider it part of the private collection,” he smirks. I roll my eyes.Private collection, my ass.I’ll just paint over it when he’s not looking. “Are you hungry, little bird?”
“Yeah, I could eat.”
“Good. I have a plate of eggs and bacon with your name on it.” He goes back to the kitchen. His sinewy muscles flow under his shirt like water as he goes back and forth between the oven and the counter, and I’m suddenly parched. I glance back at the painting of me, and my eyes are closed with bliss painted across my face. My chest expands. I like that he remembers any moment between us, but something about that one gets to me. I fight off the burn in my nose and amble over to the kitchen.
Lachlan sets our plates at the bar and then pours each of us a cup of coffee and a glass of OJ. He rounds the counter and helps my weak body into my seat. I wait while he slides into his own and looks at me. “Is it ok? Do you want me to make you something else?” I shake my head and reach for his chin, rubbing my thumb below his lip.
“Thank you,” I rasp. He smiles, and I can see it in his eyes.
“You’re welcome, baby. Now, I expect you to eat that whole plate.” I turn back to my food and grab my fork.
“I’m about to clean it,” I mutter before shoving a fork full of eggs into my mouth.
***
It’s been four days sober, and I’ve had a lot of ups and downs. I push the door to our apartment to find Lachlan lounging on the couch, watching the TV that is hardly ever on. He turns to look at me, and his eyes do that hot flare thing every time he sees me. “Hey, baby. How was work?”
I shrug and kick my shoes off trudging straight to the bathroom to shower. I would like to not smell like fried chicken anymore. I hear his footsteps behind me and peek over my shoulder. His shirt is already gone, and his hands are on the button on his jeans.
“Can I join you?” he asks. I try to hide my amusement and tip a shoulder up.
“I don’t know, can you?” I taunt. He comes up behind me and slides his hands up the outside of my thighs, stopping at my hips.
“Arms,” he says into my ear. I lift them, and he pulls my uniform over my body, tossing it to the side. He tucks his nose into my neck and breathes me in while his hands skim the edges of my underwear. “You smell like gravy,” he says.
I chuckle. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
I reach in to turn the water on and wait for it to warm up. Goosebumps rise in the wake of his gentle touch as I put my hands over his, pushing them over my hips to finish undressing. He kisses my neck, and we walk into the shower together.
I turn so the spray hits my back, and I get my hair wet while he watches me. His hands clasp my face, he kisses my nose and cheeks, then lands on my mouth. His tongue drags past my lips, asking for permission. I easily grant it because I want to taste him just as much. His tongue slides past mine, and I stand on my tiptoes, wrapping my arms around his neck. He hums and pulls away. “You didn’t answer my question,” he says.
“Not great,” I whisper back. “But I know what would have made it easier.”
He frowns and scans my expression. “Did you?” he asks. I don’t have to ask for clarification; I know what he’s asking me. I shake my head in his hold, and he smashes his lips against mine. It lifts that weight from me briefly, and I bathe in it. I want to wrap it around myself and never let go. I’m happy to get high off of this.
He hugs me tight, puts his nose in my neck, and whispers, “I’m proud of you, baby. I’m so proud of you.”
Chapter 53
Revna
Sixdayssober.Ihate to admit it, but I do feel better. Aside from that, I’m still waiting for something to set me off. I’m afraid of what I won’t be able to deal with, and then that’ll break my brief sobriety. It’s inevitable, I know it. It’s only a matter of time. At least everything will just go away. Today felt like one of those days. I know I’ve been teetering on the edge and feel like I’m about to break.
Work was a lot. People were so demanding, we were super busy, and I wanted to text my dealer badly. I wanted to give in, but I didn’t. I’m proud of myself for it, but it doesn’t negate that feeling on my chest that’s gotten worse. It feels like someone took an eight ball and is pushing it into my chest with every bit of strength they have. It’s to the point it’s about to go right through me, leaving a bloody, gaping hole.
OBA would make the ball disappear.
A sense of deja vu comes over me as I open the door to our apartment. Lachlan isn’t sitting on the couch this time. I kick off my shoes, my feet throbbing, and I wish I had a tub to submerge myself in.
I unbutton my dress and head for the bathroom. Lachlan isn’t in bed or the kitchen. Maybe he’s not here. I drop my dress and shuffle into the bathroom, only to find Lachlan already there. His head is tilted back, and his eyes are closed as he washes his hair. Suds drip down his body as the water splashes over it. My heart thuds, and he wipes his hands over his face, then they open to look right at me. It feels like he is staring right through me. “Hey, muse,” he says, rubbing his hands over his abs. I watch his hands and tug my eyes back to his face, where a confident smirk sits. What was I worried about? “Are you going to join me? I’m beginning to like our shower routine.”
I shake my head, and his smile drops. He flips off the water and steps out and I hand him a towel. “Are you ok? Did you have a good shift?” he asks while tucking the towel around his hips.
I shake my head again. He steps up closer to me and rubs my arms. “What’s wrong? Talk to me, baby.”
A tingle starts behind my nose. I don’t want to admit that I want to fade into oblivion because the splintering in my lungs and stabbing in my chest won’t stop. I need it to stop. I can’t keep living like this. Something has to give, and if it’s not the drugs, then it might have to be me.
“It hurts, Lachlan. It hurts to live, let alone breathe,” my voice cracks. He sighs and kisses my forehead.
