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“You’re playing with fire.” He sits up, letting the sheet pool along his waist, which shows off his incredible abs and toned arms. He’s a work of art that I could look at all day long. Now he’s doing exactly what I’m doing to him. He’s trying to tease me with the vision of his sexy body.
“As much as I’d like to tempt you more and explore that delicious body of yours, I’ve really gotta go.” I focus my attention back on leaving the room before I end up on my back between these two again. He thankfully lets me go without another word. Once inside the bathroom, I do my business, wash my hands, and splash my face with water. I love spending time with them, but I just need a moment of alone time. They are perfect, more than I deserve, and they’ve been doing a great job at keeping me distracted, but every so often, the plague of Zayan tries to creep up on me. I’m doing my best to wash it away, but healing is a marathon not a sprint.
By the time I come out, Rush is back asleep. It looks like he and Cohutta have moved closer together, with Rush’s arm brushing against Cohutta’s. Deciding to leave them to sleep, I open the door and realize Marnix’s post is empty. Maybe he got tired of sleeping outside the door and moved to an actual bed.
I bypass his space and move downstairs to play the new piano I’ve been itching to get my hands on. I’ve asked Cohutta and Rush about it, but they won’t tell me anything besides that Marnix bought it for me. They won’t tell me why or what happened to the other one, which was a perfectly fine piano on its own. They keep saying that it’s for Marnix to tell. Maybe one day Marnix and I will actually talk, and I can get that out of him.
It’s still early in the morning, so the house is dead quiet and I assume everyone is still sleeping. As soon as I reach the stairs, I come to an abrupt halt. Well, my assumption was wrong. Marnix is about halfway up the stairs, staring at me like he’s seeing a ghost. He looks like shit, just like he did when I saw him the other day. His hair is a wild mess, he has scruff on his face, and his clothes are in disarray. But under all that, his intense blue eyes still stare through my soul like he’s trying to find the real me. He looks… lost.
I never thought in a million years that a man of Marnix’s confidence and stature could look so distraught.
“Uh, hey.” My voice comes out awkward and unsure.
He looks me up and down, letting out a staggered breath. “Hey.”
“I’m just gonna—” I say at the same time he asks, “Can we talk?”
Well, I guess I can’t avoid it forever like I was planning.
“Umm, sure.” This isn’t exactly what I want to do this morning, and I’m not sure how it will go, but it’s probably time that we talk. The longer I keep putting it off, the more the nagging feeling inside me grows. Shocked by my response, his eyes widen, but he doesn’t give me time to change my mind.
“We can go to my office if you want or the kitchen, wherever you want to go?” He stumbles over his words. I’d rather do this in his office instead of somewhere I’m comfortable. If I let my guard down, then I open myself up to getting hurt again.
“Your office is fine.” He nods, turning back around to head down the stairs. I follow him at a distance, letting him lead us to his office. It’s been a while since I’ve been in here, but the memories of all the things I’ve done in here flood back to the front of my mind. Images of me and Cohutta, images of me and Marnix. I shake it off before I let myself go down that rabbit hole. I’ve got to be levelheaded and not think with my wild heart.
Marnix closes the door behind me as I awkwardly stand and rock back and forth on my heels, looking over his desk. The silence stretches between us, each of us wondering who is going to break it.
“So…what do you want to talk about?” I decide to rip the Band-Aid off to get this over with. He nervously scratches the back of his neck, very unlike his usual egotistical self.
He moves closer to me, but I take a step back. I need to keep enough space between us. “I…I want to talk about us, Tara.”
I defensively cross my arms over my chest. “What about us?” He has to tell me what he wants from this, because if he’s just going to fuck around and push me into his plans how he wants, he’ll be sorely mistaken on how I’ll react.
“I miss you,” he says softly, with a slight crack in his voice.
“You see me all the time.” Now I’m the one avoiding. The more the anticipation grows, the more nervous I get. But my walls remain high with sarcasm and sass.
“Tara.” He sighs in frustration at my response.
“What? What do you want me to say?” I lift my arms out wide in a shrug. My voice is defensive, ready for an attack.
“I don’t know. Anything. Tell meanything. Talk to me. Yell at me. Tell me you hate me. Tell me you’re disgusted by me. Please, I’ll take anything.” He’s begging, and part of me feels the stab right in my chest, but I do my best to block out the pain he’s feeling. He doesn’t get to ask anything of me. He ruined that chance when he decided not to trust me.
“Marnix,” I breathe, “I’m not sure what you want from me. Seeing you fucking hurts. It shreds me apart because all I can think about is the last moment we had together. How you ripped it away. We opened up to each other, then–then you just threw me out like yesterday’s leftovers. I—I can’t. I can’t do this.” I swallow my emotions.
“Please,” he whispers lightly. “Fuck, please, at least listen to me. I messed up, Tara. Big time. That’s all on me, I understand that. I’m sorry. So fucking sorry. I know those words are easy to utter, and I have to prove to you I mean them, but please know I am sorry.” He moves closer to me, but I remain in place, crossing my arms back over my chest to shield myself.
“You’re sorry?” I mock with a dry laugh.
“Of course, I am. I let my ego get the best of me. That’s something I need to work on, I know. But I never meant for you to get hurt.”
A little too late for that.“Why? Just tell me why?” I demand.
“Why what?” His eyebrows raise in confusion, like he doesn’t understand what I’m asking or why I’m asking it.
“Why would you take a stranger's word over mine? Why would you not trust me? Why would you tell me how much I mean to you right before you ruined it all? Why would you fucking rip my soul out of my body and stomp on me like I was a piece of trash in your way?” I’m progressively getting louder with each word I utter. Tears sting behind my eyes, but I push them down. If I show weakness, I’ll crack and let him back in. Because I do miss him. I miss him more than I care to admit, but I don’t trust him. I care about this man so fucking much it’s painful, but no matter how badly I want him, the trust I had for him is shattered.
Marnix paces in front of me, his hand aggressively running down his face, unsure of what to say. He doesn’t want to provoke me more, but too fucking late for that. “I…fuck. I—”
