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I turn away from the elevators and head back down the hall. I pick up the room key and head inside.
The room is the same as I left it, except the bed is no longer ruffled and there’s no Nova.
I sigh and sit on the edge of the bed. I lean my elbow on my knees and drop my head down, fisting my hair.
I’ve made a fucking mess of things, and knowing me I’ll only make it messier, because I’m the destroyer, not the fixer.
Cade texts me.
Rae texts me.
Cade texts me again.
But I hear nothing from the one person I’m desperate to hear from. It’s been three hours since she stepped in that elevator. Three fucking of hours of madness. I sat in the room for a bit, then left and walked around, thinking I might bump into her, then when that proved futile I came back.
Now, I sit on the bed, waiting and hoping for her to come back.
I’m a fucking pathetic piece of shit.
I say I’ll never pine for a woman, and that’s exactly what I’m doing.
I’ve become the exact opposite of everything I thought I was.
Maybe I was never really that guy?
There’s a soft, hesitant knock on the door, and I leap from the bed like it’s on fire.
I stride over to the door and breathe a sigh of relief when I open it to find Nova.
“You’re here,” I breathe.
“I’m here for my bags,” she snaps, looking at a spot on my chest instead of my eyes.
“What?” I say, flabbergasted as she storms past me.
She hastily begins gathering all her things.
“Nova,” I snap, my tone urging her to explain.
She halts, her shoulders tense with her back to me as she leans over her bag that she’s placed on her bed. She doesn’t have much to put in it and could be out of here in under a minute if I let her.
“Talk to me,” I plead.
She turns around, fire in her eyes, and fuck if mine don’t burn with the same flame.
“Yes,” she seethes, “because ‘talking’ has worked out so well for us before.” She uses air quotes and damn if it isn’t the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. It’s probably wrong how much I’m turned on by her anger.
“I don’t want you to leave,” I tell her. It’s more than I should admit, but it’s the truth.
She turns away and zips up her bag with a sigh. “I have to.”
She slings the bag over her shoulder and starts back for the door. I grab her hand and stop her. I could pin her to the wall, cage her in and make her feel small, but I don’t want that, not yet.
“You think I left because what happened on that bed meant nothing to me, but you’re wrong.” My words are a low, quiet growl. “I had to leave because it meant everything.”
I release her arm, hoping my words have finally gotten to her but she merely presses her lips together, shakes her head, and leaves.
Again.
