Page 42 of Adrift

“Surprising. I’ve never been called that.” Darian’s lips lay flat, as if he’s already bored with where this is going.

Liam gives me a hard glance before nodding, and I give his arm an apologetic squeeze. “Let’s talk soon, Rani.”

I watch only for a second as he turns around, taking long strides to his car, before I shoulder-check Darian through the doorway.

Heat, a level one-thousand on a scale of ten, swirls inside my head when I turn around with my finger jabbed into his chest. “What is your problem? Did you learn no common decency and basic manners in life? Even kindergartners behave better than you!”

“Ah, that explains it . . . I skipped kindergarten.” He has the audacity to sound amused.

My finger presses deeper into his chest, and I remind myself not to think about what it feels like without the fabric in between. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare try to be evasive and lighten the mood. You can’t change the subject.”

“I can guarantee I’m not smart enough to do that. I barely know what ‘evasive’ means.”

“Darian.”

“Here you go again, using my name as a deterrent.” His warm hand finds mine, pulling it off his chest.

“Why?” I grit out.

“Why what?” He’s stalling. I can practically see the turbulence in his eyes. While he might look calm and collected, I know he’s anything but.

My chest rises and falls, my body trying to prepare for a conversation I know I won’t come back from. “Why did you come out there and stop him from kissing me?”

His stance stiffens while his eyes bore into me. “Were you going to kiss him back? Was I the only one standing in the middle of your big night?”

“You don’t get to ask me that. You don’t get to demand answers when you haven’t supplied any yourself,” I grind out.

His arms fly up. “What do you want to know, Rani? What do you want from me?”

“Honesty to start with, but I think you need to ask yourself what it is you want from me, Darian, because I’m pretty fucking clear about what I want.”

He leans forward slightly, invading my senses with his fucking pine and citrus scent. Invading the clarity of my thoughts. Invading my wherewithal and control. His voice is raspy, almost whispered. “Yeah? And what do you want?”

“For you to kiss me.” Blood rushes through my ears as I struggle to breathe, hearing my admission after the fact. I don’t know if it’s the bravest thing I’ve ever done or the most foolish.

Darian’s face pales, his words halting on his tongue. If he had any idea of what was going to come out of my mouth, I doubt he would have asked the question. His shoulders sag as my words ring out between us, hovering in the air like heavy smoke. “Rani–”

“No.” I throw my palm up, effectively stopping him. I saw everything in his face before he even knew how he was going to respond. The torture, the questions, the fucking pity. Tears that I didn’t even know I had well inside my lids, falling over my burning cheeks. What has gotten into me? What have I done? My sister. . .. “Please,” I whisper, my voice trembling raw. “Please don’t speak.”

I rush from the spot in the entryway toward the stairs, taking them two at a time as a dam bursts through my chest, erupting through my eyes.

I force my palm over my mouth to keep in my sob as I pass Arman’s room. I barely register the bouquet of orange lilies on my doorstep before quickly entering my room and pressing my back against the door.

Oh God, what have I done?

How could I have been so idiotic? How could I have made such a fool of myself and allowed myself to think that, even for a minute, even for a goddamn second, I could ask something so unseemly, so fucking inappropriate from a man who isn’t just broken and on the mend, but a man who also happens to have shared ten years of his life with my sister?

In her bed.

I’m disgusted with myself. Utterly and completely appalled and ashamed as I think about how the shock and reluctance registered slowly on his features. I quite literally stupefied him . . . and myself.

I don’t know how long I stand there, pressed against the door, reevaluating all my life choices and licking my wounds before I finally reopen the door and pull in the new vase of flowers–orange lilies with purple sweet pea blooms.

Wiping the dried tears off my face, I pull out the card, wondering if I should even read it, though I do so just the same.

I couldn’t avoid you if I tried. And you’re right, I’ve tried . . . but failed.

Chapter Fifteen

---