“I asked you a question before, answer that before you go off, Little Minx.”
He asked me a question?
“Fuck you, Julian,” I seethe. “I’ve always known I was yours.”
There’s no pride or a look of malice on his face when I admit that. He doesn’t look happy or like a guy who just got what he wanted. Instead he stares at me, then. “Why did you do it?”
I can feel my chest cracking. A strangled gasp leaves me and then, “Because I wanted to hurt you.”
Immediately, he lets me go like I just burnt him. Stepping away, he looks at me like…he hates me.
“I was so confused, so hurt, so out of it that for a moment, I…” I trail off unable to finish. “I opened my mouth because you broke me.”
“I broke you?” He chuckles but there’s nothing funny. “You broke me, damn you! We kissed. You came alive in my arms and so did I. We were kids but fuck Mia, I didn’t count on you to break my family as a punishment for feeling.”
“Julian—,” I start but he cuts me off.
“And yes,” he says his voice low, void of emotion that’s threatening to take me over. “I still hate you just as much you hate me.”
“I don’t hate you.” I deny, stepping forward.
“Yes. You do.” He steps back with each word. “When you toss and turn in your bed, with an ache between your legs you know I’m the only one who can take it away, your lips tingling and my DNA a curse, you hate me.”
We hold each other’s gaze, not looking away. I know what he’s saying is true. But for him, I think the hate’s a bit different.
“You hate it, but you still come crawling into my bed, hungry for me,” he grits out. “And you hate that.”
We stare at each other for a beat, then I ask.
“Does it still hurt?”
His gaze feels like it’s penetrating deep into my soul as I wait nervously for his answer that I can clearly see in his eyes.
“Yes. Every time I look at you.”
He admits it so easily, his face now an impassive expression.
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry won’t fix what happened.”
And it certainly won’t bring him back from the dead or make up for tense lost time.
“I know, but I am sorry. I didn’t—” I have so much to say but he cuts me off with a wave of his hand like he’s swatting a damn fly that’s bothering him.
“Just shut up and go get your royal sleep, little minx.”
With the bitter, heaviness of the truth hanging in the air, he turns and leaves.
30
JULIAN
Time moves differently when there’s a silent ticking bomb in your house, about to explode.
I’m that fucking bomb.
Every time Mia enters the room, every time she so much as moves in my line of sight, I think I’m going to explode. I’ve had blue boys since the day we trashed her car and now, I feel like a glutton for punishment for staying when I should go; for giving her all my attention, when I should ignore the fuck out of her.
When she enters a room, I feel so strung up that just the sway of her hips makes me want to grab her and pin her up against the wall.
I won’t lie, I’ve fucked her and have had my way a million times in my head, and I swear when she holds my stare at times, I can see that she’s done the same thing too.
The other day we stood so close to each other out on the beach when we both knew there was enough space around us, we could occupy separately. Everything now is a matter of time.
Liam watches us with a smirk on his face every day now because he fucking knows I’m fucked. I’m burning up and it’s making me hellish.
“Where’s Mom’s new house?” I question Liam and he shakes his head.
“Shit, I forgot to ask her.”
“So, you’re hosting a party tonight and you don’t even know where the house is?” Mia scoffs, grabbing a water from the fridge. Today she’s dressed in some skimpy shorts and a bikini top, her hair in a messy bun, barefoot. She’s a lazy, troubled mess, I want her right now.
“What?” Liam shrugs. “It’s not like Courtney Mason-Fitzgerald would ever buy a shitty house. She’s too sophisticated for that.”
“Yeah, sophisticated enough to destroy people, I got that memo.” Mia murmurs, ger voice thick with emotion.