I stare at the wall, and when exhaustion finally sets in and my eyes drift shut, I still wish he were here.
THE SCOTCH GOES DOWN smoothly, but it does little to take the edge off. Brie’s sleeping in my room, and I’m camped out on the couch like a husband in the doghouse. Which, I guess, I am. Not that we’re married—or anywhere close to it. But the sentiment remains the same. I fucked up, and because of it, I can’t hold her or comfort her right now when she needs me the most.
It’s killing me to be separated from her.
The most painful thing a man can experience is losing the woman he loves. The second most painful experience is almost having lost the woman he loves and then still be teetering on that edge. It could go either way, and I’m helpless to change the outcome.
Did I say love?
Scratch that.
Or not.
Who fucking knows? It’s been a fucked-up twenty-four hours. When I thought I’d lost her¸ my heart nearly stopped. If I examine that further, it’s because mine’s connected with hers. She’s buried so fucking deep in my heart that the thought of her dying?
Un-fucking-bearable.
So is that love?
Maybe. I was so close to telling her that earlier, but she stopped me before the word could leave my lips.
Hell, I don’t even know what I feel anymore. Whatever it is, it’s strong and lasting, and I refuse to give up.
I will give Brie her space. I will give Brie her time. I will give her whatever she needs. But there’s one thing I won’t give her.
My departure.
Even if it takes the rest of my life, I will find a way for her to be able to trust me again. There’s so much more than her or me riding on this. Whether she likes it or not, we’re a family, and that’s one thing I’ll never do. Abandon my family.
The longer I sit here, the more brooding I become. The confliction of how best to interact with her has compounded tenfold since we left the hospital. All I wanted was to feed her and get her into bed. She was practically ready to fall over from sheer exhaustion, and I was only trying to help.
That was my first mistake.
The way she finally blew up wasn’t all that surprising. I’d been expecting it. Hell, once she has a good night’s sleep, I’m expecting more of it. I make a mental note to be prepared.
Then, out of nowhere, her demeanor changed and she was flying at me, clawing at my clothes. The way she rubbed herself over my hard dick was enticing, tempting, and it took everything for me to stop her from mounting me right there in the hall.
Trying to turn her away?
That was my second mistake.
But when she wouldn’t look me in the eyes, I nearly lost it. Her refusal to meet my gaze cut me to the core, and I couldn’t stand the thought that my dick was inside her, she was moaning against my lips, and I couldn’t see her eyes. The idea that she didn’t want to see me as we came together was agonizing. Was she picturing someone else?
But the experience we had in the shower?
It was worth those few seconds of anguish.
Brie may be angry. She may be hurt. When she finally learns everything, she may curse and scream and damn my name, but I still have hope. Deep down, she still cares for me. That much is evident, and I will do whatever it takes to coax those feelings back to the surface. Even if it means fucking her senseless in the shower every day until she finally admits it.
The doorbell rings, tearing me from my thoughts. I take quick, long strides to the door, on edge as to who it could possibly be.
“Fuck,” I mutter when I look through the peephole. As quickly as I can, I undo the lock and make a mental note to install at least two more. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Agent Howard has a few manila folders in his arms. He holds one out to me, and I look down at the Post-it note on the cover.
Bugs?
I shake my head. “Swept as soon as Brie went to sleep,” I mouth.
He nods. His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he gestures inside. “How about you let me out of the hallway, Matthews?”
Raising an eyebrow, I open the door wide and he storms in, stopping just inside. After shutting