Page 46 of Wildflower
There’s a vulnerability in her voice now. The thought of someone taking advantage of her trust pisses me off. I clench my jaw. Fuck, why do I care so much? This is even further from my plan.
Bloody hell, I’m so confused, and this darkness is suffocating.
I shift my grip to hold her hand instead, suddenly feeling the need for more space.
“Hm,” is all I muster.
She squeezes my hand in response.
“You’re a bit of a puzzle, Mr Hood,” she says.
“What do you mean?”
“I get the impression you’re a man who’s usually in charge, the way you demand instead of ask. But yet, sometimes you seem like you’re fighting yourself.”
“Oh?”
“Earlier, you were holding me close, and then pulled back. And you did it now as well.”
“Did I?”
“I’m guessing you felt as if we were getting too intimate? And you texted me for a whole day and then not for a week. Am I … I don’t know… am I not what you’re looking for? I’m not sure what I’m asking.” She blows out a breath and stops walking.
I wish I could see her face now. To hold it in my hands and kiss her happy.
“You are decidedly not,” I say and realise immediately it came out wrong.
“Oh,” she sounds disappointed, trying to let go of my hand, but I won’t let her.
“What I mean is, I wasn’t looking for anything. Being with someone is not something I was working towards. It’s never been on my schedule.”
Way to go. I said the word schedule. Very sexy.
“You never had love in your life?” she asks, and makes it sound so much sadder than it is. I stroke her arm with my other hand and pull her closer.
“I did once, sort of, but I didn’t make time for it,” I say into her hair.
“What happened?”
“I couldn’t give her the attention she deserved.”
She shifts away from me, letting cold air in between us, and pulls me along to keep walking. I trace my hand along the velvet rope, grateful she can’t see my face after that conversation. She’d be looking for remorse, some kind of sadness. But I don’t regret not fighting for Jody. I don’t regret not trying to keep an ‘okay’ relationship on the side of building my businesses.
“Has anything changed since then?” she asks. “Why are you here with me?”
“I’ve asked myself that a few times,” I mutter and regret how it sounded.
She huffs, and I pull her flush to my side, trying to focus on her little sounds and what they might mean as well as walking blindly through this space.
“Look—” I start, but am not sure what I’m supposed to say. “I wanted to meet you today to confirm that what you stirred up in me last weekend was justphysical. Which would be something I can understand.”
As if I can sense an obstacle, I reach out and find what feels like the side of a leather booth or couch.
The robotic voice calls out again that we’re at our final destination and to find our seats. A server will be out shortly to take our orders.
“And what did you decide?” Alice asks, ignoring the tinny voice from above.
I find her face and cup it in my hands, stroking my thumbs over her cheeks. Her bottom lip.
