The Best of Winter Renshaw - An 8 Book Collection - Winter Renshaw Page 0,55

cheek.

Demi retracts her palm, taking a step away from me. Judging by the way her mouth hangs, she’s just as shocked by the slap as I am.

I rub the tender spot for a quick second and let it go.

She doesn’t apologize, and I’m not angry with her for the slap. It’s a minor inconvenience in the grand scheme of things.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do that.” Her words are low and steady. “You deserved it, Royal. For so many reasons. Reasons I don’t have time to get into right now, because I’m running late.”

The clock on the wall catches her eye, and she pushes past me to grab a coat from the closet in the foyer.

“We’re not finished.” I mean it in every sense of the word.

“We are.” Demi slips the coat over her delicate shoulders, disappearing into a wrap of blackness.

“So this is it?”

Her tongue slicks across the seam of her lips and she shrugs.

“For now.”

“Then what was the other day? At my place? What did that mean?”

“I wish I knew.” Demi shrugs. “On second thought, maybe I know, and maybe you’re just not ready to hear the answer.”

“Oh, we’re going to play that game now?” I huff. “You going to hold me hostage until I tell you what you want to hear?”

“It really, really blows, doesn’t it, Royal? To need an answer to something so badly that it damn near kills you, and to know that the one person who could heal that pain refuses to give it to you?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“You said that before, and I still disagree with you.”

I step into her space, resting my hands on the curve of her hips and guiding her closer to me. Inhaling her sweet scent, I lock eyes with her.

“Don’t push me away, Demi.” I lower my lips to hers, but I don’t kiss her. Not yet. Our mouths graze, and she breathes me in, harboring the air and refusing to release it. My right hand cups the base of her neck, slinking up to her jaw and feeling the wild palpitations of her heart. “I still love you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone. And I’m not giving up on us. We deserve that happiness that was stolen from us seven years ago.”

She glances away, but I guide her back, meeting her glassy gaze.

“Because it was stolen,” I say. “No matter what anyone says, I didn’t do it, Demi. I didn’t do it.”

I’m overcome with a choke in my voice, so I kiss her before she senses I’m two seconds from falling apart. Men don’t fall apart. Men don’t cry. Men don’t get sad or weak. They brush it off and move on and pretend the parts that hurt don’t exist. If something becomes too painful, we fucking amputate that shit and don’t give it a second thought.

But I never could. Not with her.

Her lips warm mine, our tongues seeking one another’s. Demi’s skin is soft as silk beneath my fingertips, and I’m tempted to yank her hair out of that perfect little bun just so I can run my hands through it again.

My eyes burn, but I force it away.

I need to go before she asks more questions. I’ll tell her. I’ll tell her everything, because I know she has one foot out the door already, and if this is my only chance to come clean, I’ll do what I have to do.

But I want her undivided attention, because this isn’t the kind of thing you tell someone in passing. I don’t want her dressed to the nines, on her way out the door to some charity benefit for Brooks fucking Abbott.

“Call me when you get home tonight,” I say, cupping her face and taking my lips off hers.

“Royal . . .” She steps away, her words stuck for a moment. And then her shoulders slump. “I really need to get going.”

She steps into heels and motions toward the door. And with that, we go our separate ways.

Twenty-Eight

Demi

* * *

I follow Brenda like a shadow for the first hour, listening to her repeat the same things over and over again.

It’s really minor brain damage . . .

The doctors are very impressed with his progress already . . .

He’ll have a few months of physical therapy . . .

Yes, he’s talking . . .

His short-term memory seems to have been affected, but there’s a chance it’s only temporary . . .

“How are you holding up, kid?”

I turn to see my brother holding a