Page 12 of Indiscretion: Reckless Sin
“What about this is funny?” My nose scrunches up and I can feel my eyebrows caving into each other. Puzzlement must color my features because he looks even more amused than before.
“Are you running from the guys? Or Rebel perhaps?”
“And if I am?”
“Then it’s funny. In fact, I’d say it’s downright hilarious that you think you can run away from us again.Especially Rebel,” he emphasizes Reb’s name and fixes me with an all knowing mock glare. He knows how I left things. He blames me for breaking his best friend's heart and then disappearing. And the thing is, he’s not wrong. I did all those things and more. Rebel isn’t the only one I left behind.
“You do realize how crazy you all sound, right?” I whimper, knowing I sound whiny and annoying. But seriously. This is crazy. Exhausting too.
“Nope,” he replies, popping his “p” while pulling me up off the ground, right into his firm chest.
“I haven’t seen you all in years and now you show up and do… What you just did and expect me to fall in line with your commands. I don’t want or need any of you back in my life and even less so do I want to be a part of the music we used to make together.”
“Who are you trying to convince, Ains?” He gives me an indecipherable look. “Tell me, do your lies taste as foul as they sound rolling off your tongue?”
I stare at him for a long moment, studying his hardened features. He’s never been one to bullshit but he’s never been an outright asshole to me either. His shaggy blond hair is the same as I remember, curling just enough to give off the perfect surfer vibe. There’s a short stubbly beard now covering what I know is the cutest chin dimple of all time. His green and brown eyes have been mesmerizing for as long as I can remember. They make me shift from foot to foot in discomfort as they currently study me intently, like he’s perfectly comfortable waiting for my lies to eat me up inside and then spill out of my mouth. Not going to happen. Elsa ain’t got nothing on me.Conceal, don’t feel, put on a show… It didn’t work for her, sure, but I’ve got too much at stake and I’m not hiding magic—just my every emotion or feeling that runs through me. Easy.
“What happened here?” I ask, reaching out to touch the scar on his cheekbone.
Deflect. Deflect. Deflect.
Lifting his hand to cover mine, he rubs his thumb softly across the back of my hand, his features softening as he quietly responds, pain clearly apparent so briefly I’d have missed it if I blinked. “We were in an accident about a year ago. A drunk driver ran us off the road on our way to getting…” His voice trails off and then he shuts down completely.
“Getting what?” I ask impatiently. What happened to them?
“Doesn’t matter.” He responds stubbornly.
“It matters to me.”
“Look, it’s not my story to tell. The only thing that truly matters now is that we all survived that day. We got our heads on straight and then came to find you.”
Got their heads on straight? What have they been up to since I left? And if it’s not his story to tell, then whose is it?
“I’m not the same girl I once was and the sooner you all realize that the better.” I huff in frustration that he’s not telling me everything. It’s probably best to keep avoiding the way his words cut into me anyway. Not to mention the curiosity that’s burning through me now.
“How about we get you home and maybe we can talk a little more rationally. You know that none of us have ever had much of a filter around you and our impulse control lacks heavily when you’re concerned. Always has and you won’t hear an apology for it, but I can see you home safely and do my best to ease your concerns.”
I can feel the tears involuntarily track down my cheeks, the ones that won’t seem to go away these days, offering a small nod in response because I know that trying to talk him out of it right now won’t do me any good and I’m so exhausted I’m not sure I have any fight left in me. So instead, I let him take my hand in his and together we walk back to my apartment in silence. Me stewing in the confusion and heartache brought on by the last day or two, and him offering his quiet comfort.
***
We get back to my home, and I start fiddling with my keys, hoping my stalling makes him realize I don’t want him to come into the apartment. It’s bad enough he walked me into the building and all the way up to my door. I’ll need to make a mental note to check in with my doorman and request no one be allowed up without express consent.
Will that stop these guys though?
I already know that if Cyan takes one step inside my apartment, I’ll be a goner. I’ll fall prey to his charm and the ease with which he carries everywhere, calming everyone around him. He’s always had that effect. It’s likely why he was the one to walk me home in the first place.
“I’m coming in.” The quiet command in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed as he watches me anxiously fidget and stall for time. Apparently he’s also a mind reader now.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea Cy.” I don’t meet his gaze because he’ll suck me in and I’ll cave. I’ll do whatever he wants.
“I didn’t ask, Ains. You need someone in your corner. I can see the weight you’re carrying. Let me, no, letustake some of the burden. It’s all we’ve ever wanted—to be yours in every way.”
“It’s too much,” I cry. “I’m not enough for all of you. Look at the damage I caused, the heartache and misery, simply because my life was uprooted without my consent. I didn’t even mean to hurt you all and yet it was unavoidable, like it was written in the stars or something. We were meant to be apart. The universe showed us that to be true.”
“Then how did we find you, huh? If we weren’t meant to be? If we weren’t inevitable then you’d still be lost to us, but this right here is your sign that fate doesn’t control anything if it’s important enough to fight for. And if not love what else is there worth fighting for?”
He takes my keys and unlocks the door, ushering me inside and doesn’t even bother looking around before he sits me on the couch. Grabbing the throw blanket off of the back, he places it over my lap, and goes into the kitchen.
