That same word flashed behind his closed eyes.
Mine.
He shifted, moving over her—and it was as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped over them.
“No!”
That single word, those two simple letters, combined with her firm hand pushing hard against his chest, broke the spell between them.
“Lark?” he murmured,
Her brows furrowed as he spoke her name, and her expression changed so fast, it stunned him. She reared back abruptly, stumbling from the bed, standing beside the mattress. She looked toward the hotel door like she was planning to run.
He hated the space between them, but he didn’t move, didn’t reach for her. Because there was something in her eyes that stopped him cold.
Panic. Or…
No. Fear. It was fear.
Every protective instinct he possessed rose to the surface. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but deep down in his gut, he knew that fear wasn’t directed at him. There was a faraway look in her gaze that told him this was something older. Suddenly, it felt as if she’d gone somewhere else entirely. She looked broken, and it wrecked him to see it.
This was his woman. And she was hurting.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered shakily.
The apology gutted him. Every instinct he had screamed for him to pull her back into his arms, to comfort her and demand to know who’d hurt her. Tommy’s friendship with Jace wouldn’t protect him from Grayson if he learned that he’d done something to scare her like this.
Instead, he forced himself to stay still.
“Is this because of Tommy?” he asked.
Her expression crumpled, but she recovered quickly, schooling her features in a way he hated. While it killed him to see her in pain, it was worse to see her putting on a fake front, pretending.
She shook her head. “No. Because of me. That kiss shouldn’t have happened. Promise me you’ll forget it.”
Grayson’s eyes narrowed, because that was the last thing he would ever do.
“Lark—”
She shook her head, raising her hand to ward him off when he started to move closer, her pitch higher as she pleaded with him. “Please. Promise you’ll forget it. Never mention it again. Ever. To anyone.”
Grayson wasn’t a liar, so he wasn’t about to give her that promise. “We don’t have to talk about it again,” he said, silently adding the words for now in his head.
She studied his face as if analyzing his sincerity. Now, he schooled his own features, not wanting to spook her further.
“Thank you,” she said at last, as Grayson played over her response to his question about Tommy. She said she wasn’t pulling away because of her ex. It was…
Because of me.
What the hell did that mean?
Her answer left him with a million more questions. Before he could ask a single one, she slowly sank back down on the bed. He could tell it was costing her something to do so, and he felt like absolute shit for scaring her so badly.
She immediately turned away, putting her back to him.
It was a clear dismissal as well as a retreat.
She might as well have rebuilt the fucking pillow wall again.
