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I’m frozen on the spot, my brain still trying to catch up with what the fuck just happened. One minute I had the girl of my dreams in my arms, and now I’m left holding the fragments of my shattered heart—again. How many times am I going to allow this girl to break me before I can’t be put back together?
Yet, despite being heartbroken once more, I have something now that I didn’t have before—hope. I know she still likes me, and I fucking adore her. No matter how much shit is in our way, that’s all it is…bullshit.
I’m not going to let anything stand in our way this time. A decade ago, I didn’t fight for my angel. I’m not going to make that mistake again. I’m going to tear this fucking world apart and build it back up just for her. I will give her everything, as long as she agrees to be mine—my angel.
BANG BANG!
A loud knocking wakes me abruptly from the restless sleep I feel like I’d only just tumbled into. I roll over, looking at the clock on my bedside table. When I see it reads just after eight in the morning, I groan and pull the covers back over my head.
I’m normally awake by now, so being in bed at this time is really unlike me. But, honestly, I think I got around two hours of sleep the whole of last night.
After that soul-searing, toe-curling, panty-ruining kiss with Evan, I ran. I took a page out of his book, freaked out, and ran. I locked myself in my room, and I stayed here. I thought sleep would distract me from him, but I didn’t want this.
As I laid in bed, I could still taste him on my tongue. My lips were bee-stung from the intensity of the kiss, and my body waspractically buzzing from all the pent up tension sizzling through my veins. I know exactly which parts of me he touched, as they were still burning like he’d left his mark. My core ached at what could have been. I don’t think I have ever been as wet as I was last night, and it took every ounce of self control not to touch myself.
I know I could, and I’m sure the orgasm would have been fucking mind-blowing. I was on edge, my body primed and ready, just waiting for that nudge to push me over. It wouldn’t have taken much, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Maybe I was punishing myself?
I kept thinking that if I hadn’t run away like a coward, I could be on my second or third orgasm right now with Evan. He would have made sure I was enjoying myself and was never left wanting.
Although we are different people now, like I so helpfully pointed out, I can tell given the way his kiss affected me so much, my tastes haven’t changed all that much, and he still knows exactly what to do for me.
The problem is, I was telling the truth when I walked away. Too much has happened, and even though things didn’t play out the way we thought they did, it doesn’t change things.
I’m not the same person. I’m not his angel anymore, and I don’t think Evan is ready to acknowledge that yet.
So, I tried to distract myself by sleeping, allowing myself the luxury of dreaming about what could have been. Sadly, you don’t get to control your subconscious. The events of the evening had obviously been triggering for me, and nightmares of my time with The Sheriff plagued me.
I tossed and turned, screaming as I pulled myself from the worst of the nightmares. It’s not the first time this has happened, but after having such an amazing evening, it’s so jarring for me.It reminded me I’m so fucking broken, and confirmed I was right for telling Evan I’m a different person now.
Tears racked my body as I fought against sleep for most of the night. I’ve often wondered how Evan hasn’t heard me screaming in the middle of the night, and as my sobs got louder, I thought the same thing.
Maybe there was a part of me that wanted him to hear me, so he would come in and check on me.
When I’m scared and alone, I want nothing more than to feel his arms wrapped around me, keeping me safe in the way only he can. Yet, he never hears me, and I never have the balls to wake him and ask for his help.
That’s how I spent my night—scared, alone, crying, trying not to fall back to sleep. Eventually, just a couple of hours ago, when my body and mind were both well and truly spent, I finally dropped back to sleep. I thought I’d be able to sleep longer than this, as the entire time I’ve been here, I’ve never been woken up.
As if reminding me that I still haven’t moved, I hear the banging again. I don’t have the energy to even lift my head, so I shout instead. “Come in.”
I hear the handle turn, and the door opens slowly, light from the hallway flooding into my dark room.
The curtains in my bedroom have blackout blinds on them, so no matter what time of day, no sunlight can get in. When I saw them the first day I arrived, I couldn’t help but smile. Evan remembered that I can’t sleep if there’s even the slightest slither of light in my room.
Once the door is fully open, light floods in, and Evan stands in the doorway, his shadow consuming most of the brightness. He doesn’t come in any further, and just stands there in the entrance. Because the light is behind him, I can’t see his face fully, so I have no idea what mood he’s in.
Given I was the one who walked out on him last night, it’s only right I’m the one to remain polite. “Morning,” I grumble.
Okay, so that’s the best I can manage on a couple of hours’ sleep before my coffee.
“Morning. Sorry to disturb you. I thought you’d be awake by now. I have arranged a meeting for this morning that I figured you’d want to be part of.” His tone is short and clipped, sounding every bit the professional asshole he’s supposed to be.
“What meeting?” I ask, trying to rack my brain to remember if he mentioned anything about this before. I know my thoughts have been consumed by kisses and nightmares, but I rarely forget important things.
“I invited Desmond over. I want answers, and I thought you’d want to be there too,” he replies, before quickly adding, “You don’t have to be, but the offer is there.”
My mouth flops open as my brain struggles to keep up. We pretty much worked out yesterday that Desmond is responsible for our separation, but I didn’t think he’d actually invite him here to confront him about it.
Do I want answers? Yeah, I think I do.
