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“Nothing.” He grabs the cloth from me and stands and walks back out into the room.
I follow him. “Say it. Just say it.” I hold my arms open. “I want you to tell me what you were going to say.”
He turns angrily. “You are the only person who hurt me today.”
My heart skips a beat.
He shakes his head. “And it fucking pisses me off that you have the ability to do that.”
I don’t know what to say.
“Stace,” I whisper softly. “I am sorry for not asking you if you took them, but what was I supposed to think?”
“That I would steal from you,” he barks angrily. “Why do you tell me you love me when you obviously think so little of my character?”
“I do love you,” I murmur.
“Well, you know what I don’t love?” he sneers angrily.
My heart drops. “Me?” I whisper.
“Being made to feel like a piece of shit.”
“I never said that,” I fire back.
“Yes, you did.”
“When?”
“When you put me in the same category as your ex-boyfriends and your father.”
My eyes tear up, because he’s right on target. That’s exactly what I did today. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.
A knock bangs at the door. “Room service,” The waiter calls. I look through the peephole and see him standing with our champagne and ice. Stace walks back into the bathroom frustrated that we have been interrupted, I blow out a deep sigh as I open the door. “Thank you,” I murmur as I take the tray from him and lock the two deadlocks as he leaves.
I wrap a handful of ice in my t-shirt and walk back into the bathroom where I find Stace now in the shower, his back to me as he soaps his body up. I take off my clothes and get into the shower and hold him from behind. I wrap my arms around his large body and squeeze him tight. I press my face on his back and the water that runs down the drain is a shade of pink, tinged with blood. We stay silent for a long time, both lost in our own thoughts.
“I’m not an easy person to be with, Stace,” I murmur.
He stays silent.
A large lump forms in my throat. “I understand if you don’t want to fight for us. I’m damaged goods. I couldn’t be with me.”
He turns to face me. “Don’t say that,” he whispers.
“It’s true.” I shrug sadly. “I have more baggage than a 747.”
He pushes the hair back from my forehead and then, with his finger under my chin, lifts my face to meet his. “You’re my damaged goods.”
My eyes tear up at the words I so desperately needed to hear and he kisses me softly. “I have fallen in love with you, Rosh,” he whispers against my lips.
“You have?” I whisper in hope.
He kisses me again. “It’s annoying really.”
I smirk. “Annoying?”
“Well, right now my face is a mess and I should be making an escape plan, but the only thing that is on my mind is being inside my girl.” He grabs my behind and drags me across his hard body.
