Page 63 of Ashes and Lilies
Miles, in the meantime, had been struck dumb. Maria crossed her arms.
Damen ignored them and took another step. I couldn’t breathe. The instinct to flee was overwhelming now. I dodged his hand, rushing to make this better.
I would never do this again. “I’ll get changed.”
Damen stood before me, and his eyes shone with determination. “Hey—”
But I didn’t hear what he had to say. I was already gone.
I slammed Damen’s bedroom door shut behind me and slumped to the floor, hugging my knees to my chest. I was one hundred percent, completely and irredeemably, an idiot.
It wasn’t evena full minute later before there was a knock on the door.
“Bianca,” Damen said, voice determined. “Please open the door.”
“Go away,” I responded, touching my shaking hand to my mouth. “I told you I’ll get changed. Just wait a second.” I had to preserve the little dignity I had left.
“Baby, open the door,” he said. “I need to talk to you.”
“No.”
His voice was softer now. “Please?”
When the plea reached me, I lifted my head. It felt wrong. He didn’t seem like the type to beg.
It was stupid, but I pulled myself up and opened the door—just a crack.
Damen was there, of course, and as soon as the door had given an inch, he pressed into the room. Before I could move or even hide, my hands were grasped in his. He gazed down at me, his face sad.
“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean it like that at all.”
“Why did you call me ‘baby’?” I asked, my mind clinging to anything other than my humiliation.
Damen’s brow furrowed. “What?”
“You call me ‘baby girl.’ You’ve only called me ‘baby’ once,and then you stopped. Are you using it when you’re upset or worried? I don’t understand.”
“What in the world are you talking about?” He seemed bewildered and shook his head. “They’re the same.”
“No, they’re not,” I protested. “One takes more effort to say.”
Something flickered in his gaze, understanding and—for some reason—amusement. It was almost offensive. He tugged me to him. “You’re so confusing. They’re the same.”
Confusing? I pressed against him, easily escaping his hold, and crossed my arms.
“And stop changing the subject. Don’t run away.” Damen sighed, tugging at my hands and keeping them warm in his grasp. “Why does it feel like you’re always running away?”
I opened my mouth but wasn’t sure if this was a rhetorical question. In any case, I thought the answer was clear.
It was the one thing I was semi-good at.
Regardless, why was he always flirting with me, especially if they thought I was hideous? We were supposed to be friends. There were rules. Why was he making this so difficult?
My thoughts were jumbled as I allowed Damen to guide me toward the mirror. He wrapped his forearms over my chest, and his eyes held mine in the mirror’s reflection.
“What are you thinking about?” Damen rested his chin on my head. “I know that you’re coming up with a billion theories, and I’d love to know what they are. But I can’t help unless you tell me. I need to know how badly I’ve screwed up.”
Even though his confident eyes held mine, there was an underlying tread of trepidation in his tone.
