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Nothing can stop that angry voice in my head.
This is your fault.
You ruined everything.
You begged him for this.
He said it couldn't happen and you begged him.
You're ruining his relationship with his sister.
With the only family he has left.
You really think he'll forgive you for that?
That either one of them will?
Grandma is gonna die and Mom is gonna find out about this. And then you'll have nothing. You'll come back to LA and you'll be alone.
He steps through the door.
He's still in the same outfit. Skinny jeans. A t-shirt. Bare feet.
He has the same dark hair and dark eyes.
The same sleeve tattoo.
But he's different than the Brendon of a few minutes ago.
He's demanding. In control.
And that look in his eyes, the one that screams you're mine and I'll do whatever I want with you—
It sucks up all my attention.
It's exactly what I need.
His eyes fix on me. "You wore that skirt to drive me out of my fucking mind."
It's a minor infraction compared to everything else I've done, but it's enough.
"Answer me."
"Yes."
"You knew I couldn't touch you in front of Em."
Her name is a dagger to my chest. I push up the walls around my heart. Something, anything, to stop that guilt from flooding my body.
"Kaylee. Answer me." His voice is stern. It's a promise. An answer me or you'll regret it.
"Yes."
He takes a seat on the bed next to me. His hand rests on my thigh. It doesn't stroke or tease. It just sits there. "What did you want to happen?"
"I don't know."
"You do."
