My mouth suddenly feels dry, and I breathily stutter out, “Why don’t we talk about this in your room?”
“Who. Told. You?” He enunciates each word with a quiet anger that has my heart racing.
“Connor,” I whisper, his name falling at our feet.
Surprise washes his features. His muscles bunch, he grits his teeth, and spins on his heel, storming out of the elevator with tight fists at his sides. I rush after him, scared of what trusts I’ve broken.
Nolan has a really long stride when he’s angry, and it’s not until his suite that I finally catch up with him.
“It’s not his fault,” I wheeze, attempting to catch my breath.
He leans against the back of the black leather couch, hands braced on either side, and stares out at the dark night-- our reflections more visible in the floor to ceiling windows than the shadowed forest outside. The lights are low, bright enough to see, but it casts everything in sharp contrasts.
“Was he talking to someone else and you overheard him?” he asks, his gaze still focused on the glass.
I tug on the sleeves of my long sleeved t-shirt, rubbing the thin, soft fabric between my fingers.
“No,” I answer quietly, “but I saw you at the party… with that girl. Not that I care about you with other girls or anything… it’s just, I could tell that you didn’t like the girl-- well,likelike her.”
I fidget, because he’s still not looking at me-- his sharp features appearing as if they’ve been cast from stone.
“I knew that you were going to feed from her, and I saw how strong your charming abilities were... are?... from that asshole at the party, and it…” This part I whisper so softly, I’m unsure if he’ll hear me, “It bothered me a lot.”
The muscles in his back tense and his head falls forward, now gazing at the hardwood floors between his feet, but he still remains silent.
Stealing all the nerve I have left, I walk over and perch on the back of the couch next to him, my legs dangling. “Apparently, what I was thinking was written all over my face, so Connor took me outside to explain that this was your only option. That Gina had cursed you, and now you could only feed… uh, fresh from the vein, so to speak.”
That last bit earns me a twitch of his lips, which I consider a good sign. He shakes his head ruefully. “Of all people, there’s a kind of strange irony that it’d be Connor. The one time he decides to string more than a few words together, it’s to rat me out.”
I laugh, but it comes out quiet and awkward.
He glances up at me, his brows knit together with concern, and murmurs, “Do I scare you?”
“What? No, of course not,” I reply vehemently. “If anything, I’m royally pissed off for you.” I wince. “Which was why I accidently killed the Whitaker’s dining room table.”
He chuckles, and it feels like I can breathe again. Then I remember I planned to offer myself up so he didn’t have to hunt for people, and I get nervous for completely different reasons.
“So I don’t scare you, but you’re still uncomfortable with me?” he questions, looking into my eyes, and it’s evident how important my answer is.
“I’m not uncomfortable with you,” I respond, carefully choosing my words, “but watching someone’s free will drain away is unnerving.”
“I never use my abilities to make someone do anything sexual with me,” he vows with widely frantic eyes. “Whatever we do, the person is willing. Always. I only charm them to forget what I am.”
“I know,” I answer gently, then with a wry smirk add, “You have an army of admirers who follow you around. I doubt finding a willing partner would be difficult.”
He smiles, but it’s tight around the eyes. The pain of his dual lives crashing into each other evident in his furrowed brow.
Everything feels mixed up inside me, as I slide from the back of the couch and stand in front of Nolan. I’m ready to go through what I promised myself on Saturday.
Confusion colors his features watching me fidget and twist my fingers in front of him, and he’s only able to hold my gaze for a few seconds before my eyes skitter off.
Grow a backbone and say it! He deserves control of his own life, and I can give that to him.
“You okay…” he asks at the same time I blurt, “I want to help you.”
With narrowed eyes, he tips his head to the side, even more confused. “What do you mean by help me?”
“I...uh.”
