“I’m not going anywhere. You’re so mad I have a feeling you’ll leave forever if I get out of this bed right now. I’m not risking that.”
“What does it matter if I leave forever? I’m nothing to you but a wing-woman. We barely know each other.”
He’s quiet for a long time. When he answers his voice is gruff. “It would matter to me. It would matter a lot.”
Oh, please, don’t lay it too thick. “I can’t do this right now.”
“Listen to me.” He grabs my chin and forces my face inches from his. Our eyes connect. I stare into them, relishing the emotion burning in them like oil set on fire. The nothingness is gone. “I’m sorry I put you through that last night. I’m sorry you had to see me like that again. I’m sorry you had to take care of me, and I’m sorry I can’t say the right things or do the right things. I’m sorry, I promise I am. I’m sorry for hooking up with you in the bathroom, and I’m sorry you think I didn’t want more. But most of all I’m sorry I scared you. How many different ways do I have to say it to you?”
I stare, trapped in his fiery gaze, as his words leave their mark on me. I try to look away but he grips my face harder, preventing me from separating the connection. I need a break, because that buzzing is back, and Kent Nicholson is lying half naked in my bed and I missed his eyes so much last night. Reaching up, I trace his chapped lips. “What were you trying to forget last night?”
“You really want to know?”
“I deserve to know.”
“I was trying to forget you.” He holds my gaze, daring me to ask him why.
For some reason his words make me shiver. I swallow hard and lean forward instinctively. “It worked.”
He smiles sadly. “Why do you think I do it? When I get wasted I’m nothing. Nothing can’t remember, can it? I like not being able to think. Thinking always leads to remembering. That’s something I try not to do as much as possible.”
“Who exactly are you trying so hard to forget?” It isn’t me. It can’t be. I’ve only been here a short time and he’s been doing this for longer.
He lets my face go and looks down. When he looks back up I feel a small, miniscule, pretty much nonexistent part of me admit I might want Kent past attraction. The pain in his eyes makes my heart ache for the hurt he feels. I can’t stand the sight of it so I quickly press my lips to the corner of his mouth, not even his lips, and hug him to me.
“Never mind. Forget I asked.”
“Her name is Willow Serena. She’s who I want to forget.”
I still in his arms. “Did you love her?”
“I’ve never loved anyone that much before her,” he admits hoarsely. “I didn’t even know I could love that hard.”
“What happened?”
He swallows audibly and shakes his head. “Enough talking for one day.”
“Okay.” I touch my hand to his face.
He sighs and lies on his back. Peeking at me, he smiles thinly. “That’s the first time I’ve said her name in a year. I guess it’s true about time and pain.” He makes hacking noise and covers his eyes with his hand. “Or not.”
I refrain from mentioning he whispered it in his sleep. “Sleeping with other women helps you?”
“I’m not talking about this with you.”
“You puked on me last night. I had to drag your naked body into the bathroom and take a condom off your flaccid penis. You’re talking to me about this. Does it help you?”
His eyes widen and for the first time Kent Nicholson blushes. His cheeks flush with pink and he looks away, absolutely mortified. “Raina, baby, I’m sorry.” Taking a deep breath, he nods. “Fucking other women helps. But making them feel like shit helps a lot more.”
I suspected as much. “You really are a pig.”
“Not denying it.” He reaches for me, cupping my face in his large palm. “Thank you for taking care of me.” His thumb rubs my cheek. “Honestly. Thank you, Rain.”
“You’re welcome. Thank you for telling me about Willow.”
“You’re welcome, I guess.” But he’s clearly uncomfortable. He presses his finger to my mouth. “Don’t say her name again. On your lips it’s wrong.”
I want so badly to tell him I know who she is. Her name on