at her wine, then back at me. Her plump lips are a dark shade of red that complements her warm umber skin.
It hurts to watch her, knowing she’s conflicted and that she’s hiding from me. She doesn’t know I know. I can see how much it kills her. Every time she slips beside me, letting her gentle soul be seen, she pulls back, stares at her wine and the sadness overwhelms her.
It’s not fair to her that it happened this way.
“I was afraid to trust him at first …” I trail off, remembering the instincts pulling me in all directions. She’s got to be going through the same. I can be there for her, though.
An older man rises beside us, making his way to the back probably to relieve himself. With him gone, there’s no one surrounding us. The place is only half-full and most of the people are at the other end of the bar where the flat screens are playing football.
“I know … I know he kissed you.” I let the confession slip out without looking back at her. Even though I can feel her gaze pierce into me, begging me to look back at her, I continue, wanting to get it all out so we can start over. So we can start fresh now with no secrets or lies between us. “I know he traded … he plays games …” I suspected something was up when I started to receive fewer texts from him, but the ones from two days ago when she never texted and her father was found dead spelled out everything.
He was with her, protecting her and he didn’t want me to worry.
It’s like stepping into an ice bath remembering the message he sent. If I hadn’t been stopped at that red light, I swear to God I would have crashed.
“That’s why you backed away from me?” I ask her, finally taking a peek down at Delilah and finding those big brown eyes staring up at me. They’re bathed in insecurity and begging for forgiveness.
Her lips are parted and her breathing is staggered.
“It’s because he stepped in, not because of something I did?” Even as I speak the last part, I know that’s not all true. It’s because he told her first. I should have told her. The moment I wanted her in my bed every night. The moment he came into my place and scared her. I should have told her everything.
“Cody,” she whispers, emotion drenching my name.
“I can deal with that. As long as you still want me,” I admit to her and feel the ache of needing her, truly and deeply needing her to forgive me and care for me again. I waited so long to make a move and it’s because of my brother. The way he spoke about her … I thought he wanted her and if I kissed her …
I thought he’d moved on and I thought wrong.
“Cody. I did more than kiss him,” she says. Her confession is spoken in a tight voice and the nervous exhale that follows adds to her uneasy posture. She won’t even look at me, staring across the bar at an empty seat instead.
He did more than kiss her? The betrayal and jealousy are felt instantly, deep and primal. Licking my bottom lip, I stare straight ahead and attempt to take another swig of beer, but I can’t. I’d rather throw it at the back wall. Every muscle coils inside of me.
If he thinks I’ll let him use her like he used me, he’s dead fucking wrong. Brother or not, I’ll kill him for bringing her into this. He said he was protecting her. That doesn’t mean fucking her.
After a moment, I swallow thickly, take a drink and tell her, although I still stare at the back wall as I do, “If I had told you … you wouldn’t have.”
“You don’t know that and this isn’t your fault. I made that decision.”
She doesn’t know who she’s dealing with. She doesn’t know the lengths that Marcus is willing to go to. Every warning screams at the back of my throat, yet there’s only ringing in my ears when I peer down at her.
“If you want me to go, I won’t. I’m not going to just let you go either,” I finally tell her and her reaction at my admission is everything. From the soft inhale and slight lean forward, to the way her hands seem to inch across her lap to get closer