Page 72 of A False Start
“Of what?” He’s still staring beyond me, like there’s something out there, one thick arm wrapping around my waist and pressing into the small of my back, pulling me into the protection of his house while he steps out past me. My breasts brush against his bare chest as he switches spots with me, like he can just waltz out there and slay my inner dragons while I curl up in the safety of his home.
I wish it were that simple.
“Nadia.” He turns, gripping my shoulders and crouching down just far enough to look me in the eye. “Did you hear something out there? See something?”
I blink, trying to find my nerve again.
“Fuck.” He runs a hand through his hair, turning out to face the dark yard again. “I knew I shouldn’t have listened to you about staying out there by yourself. You don’t have to be so fucking tough all the time.”
He reaches for the rifle hanging by the back door, and my fingers find his bicep, stopping him in his tracks. My pink nails are a perfect contrast against the black ink there.
It’s true. I had been absurdly stubborn about staying in the tent rather than in his house. I felt like I needed the space.
“No,” I breathe. “I’m scared of this.” I can’t even look at him. I keep my eyes trained on his chest, searching madly for the words that this beautiful man deserves from me.
“This.” I wave a finger between us. “I’m scared of this. Us. You.” I turn my face up at the ceiling, tracing the lines of the doorjamb as I shove my fingers through my hair. “I’m scared of myself.”
I wait for him to say something, and I don’t know why. Griffin is a man of few words. I should have seen this coming. I should have known I wouldn’t be what he needs. He’s a man who knows what he wants out of life, and I’m the girl who’s flitted from guy to guy like she’s pollinating fucking flowers. “You know what, never mind. Forget I said that.” I laugh, but it’s a dark laugh. “I should have realized you’d be after something else.”
I move to shove past him. Fleeing.A-fucking-gain.Am I being childish? Maybe. But he’s got my head all jumbled. I’m not making a lot of sense, and I know it.
But his forearm wraps around my waist, and he yanks me into his body, my back pressing against the warmth of his chest as his heavily corded arms wrap around me like a vise. “Don’t tell me what I’m after, Wildflower.” His voice holds an edge of danger now, like I’ve said something that pisses him off. “Any man not after you is a fucking idiot.”
My heart thunders so loudly I can barely hear his deep, growly voice over its beat.
“Then why do you keep pushing me away? Or letting me push you away?” I sound small and sad and a little bit broken. My eyes flutter shut, as though that can block out the embarrassment of giving voice to that question. Why hasn’t he burned the world down to have me?
His beard rasps against the side of my neck as he cranes to catch my eye. “Why the fuck do you think?”
“Because I’m your best friend’s little sister who’s been out with half the guys in town? Because you got what you wanted from me now?” That’s a gross exaggeration and a sad attempt at sarcasm. It’s also possible that I’m being angry and combative—it’s my default mode.
His arms clamp down on my body even harder, one hand gripping my chin and turning me back to him. Pure fury dances in his eyes, but not the kind of fury I’ve seen before. This is different. He’s incensed. “Who told you the only thing you have to offer is what’s between your legs?”
My shitty dad and every shitty guy I’ve met since.
He rakes his fingers through his hair in agitation. “I could honestly tear apart every man who has ever made you doubt your value.”
I scoff and try to look away, jerking my head sharply and failing. His fingers bite into my jaw. “Fucking look at me when I tell you this, Nadia.” I blink rapidly but hold his wild gaze. “I don’t give a flying fuck who you’ve been with. You could have ridden every dick in the entire city of Vancouver, and I’d still want you. I’m happy to wait for you. Do you know why?”
“No,” I grit out. I genuinely cannot fathom why he wouldn’t care about that.
A feral smile touches his lips as he glares down at me. “Because my dick is the last one you’re ever going to ride.”
Shock courses through my veins, along with a disbelieving laugh. “You can be one cocky motherfucker, Sinclaire.”
His lips twitch, but he’s still perfectly intense when he says, “It’s true.” His thumb strokes my jawline as he stares down at me like I’m the night sky, full of complicated constellations, dark spots and bright flashes of pure light. “I push you away because I’m fourteen years older than you. I’ve lived a lot of life that you haven’t yet. There are days I feel so fucking washed up that I hardly think I’m worthy of your attention. I’ve got baggage inside my baggage. But I care less and less about that all the time. I’m trying so damn hard to be good, Nadia. I want to be good for you.”
His arms soften around me, and I turn in the cage of his embrace, feeling every point of contact as I do.
“I don’t care what other people think of me. I’m long past that, and I’m not asking your brother’s permission to take the one thing that has breathed life back into me since everything fell to pieces. I’m trying to be mature. I’m trying to give you space to figure yourself out. God knows, I’ve got some shit I need to figure out. And it’s the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever done. But I care what you think of me. I want to be worthy of you. I’m afraid I’m not there yet. IknowI’m not there yet.”
His hands cup my skull like I’m the most delicate piece of glass, his thumbs rubbing across tears I hadn’t even realized I’d spilled.
“I’m scared, too.” His breath whispers across my wet cheeks, and his forehead rests against mine as our eyes fall closed in unison. “I’m scared because I want to give you the world, and I know I can’t. Not yet.”
My hands go from fists to sliding across him, exploring the hard lines of his abdomen. “Just give me right now. Give me one day at a time. With you, they’re always better, and I just want more of the better days.”
He swallows loudly, and neither of us moves. My words hang in the air, suspended like they’re about to shatter on the floor between us if he doesn’t reach out and take them.Thenthis interaction will be what I feared, never mind my angry outburst before. If he turns me away now, I might never recov—
