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35
Dax
Jesus fucking Christ.
What the fuck was I thinking bringing her back here?
I tense under her scrutiny, my fucking heart beating like a drum and my cock stirring with dirty thoughts. I press my hips against the counter, trying to tame my bastard dick as I dish out the pizza. Now is not the time for that. But seriously, how can she look so damn beautiful and so fucking terrifying at the same time? Seeing her barefaced, with wet hair and dressed in my clothes does stupid things to me. I thought she looked fucking stunning in that sexy little outfit and those damn heels, but this woman before me. This is the woman who turns me on, who makes my fucking stomach drop out, my heart miss a beat, and my cock ramrod straight.
And when she dances… Fuck. There’s nothing like it. No one stirs me up quite the way she does. No fucking one. She’s an enigma. This tiny woman, so easily squashable, and yet so fucking strong. She’s a damn warrior and I’vemissedher. I’ve fucking missed everything about her.
“Sit. Eat,” I snap, fully aware that I’m acting like a dickhead but I’m unable to help myself.
She flinches at the harshness of my voice, and I already feel the apology rising up my throat.
I grit my jaw as she approaches, pushing the plate laden with food across the table. I take a seat opposite her, not knowing what the fuck to say. I’ve never been a big talker, but that’s only because I don’t feel the need to chat shit with anyone, except her. Iwantto talk with her. Xeno swore us off Pen, said she wasn’t part of the plan. But fuck him and his demands. I listened to him for far too long. Fuck, if I’m being brutally honest with myself, I wanted to take her in my arms the second I saw her on the dancefloor at Rocks.
“Eat,” I persist. We can talk once she’s filled her stomach and got some colour back in her cheeks.
“Why?” she asks, looking between the slices of pizza and back at me.
I notice her hands are shaking. I see the heartache in her eyes, and it angers me. Jeb’s a prick. He hasn’t taken care of her. No one’s taken care of her. My fist screws up into a ball, and it takes all my control not to fucking hit something. My cock softens at the thought. Now that I’ve acknowledged to myself what I’ve known all along since returning—that she’s in trouble—I can’t turn my back on her. I won’t. My cock and its wayward thoughts will have to chill the fuck out.
“Why eat? Because you’re stick thin, Kid…” I pause as she looks at me strangely. York might have always been able to read her the best, but there was no mistaking her emotions or her words tonight. Nothing is as it seems, and I feel like a cunt for only just wising up. “You need to eat,” I repeat, “So I bought you food. Don’t read too much into it.”
“That isn’t what I meant. I appreciate the food, but why take care of me like this now? Only a few days ago you wanted nothing to do with me. You dropped me for Tiffany. You’ve avoided me at every turn, Dax.”
“Eat, Pen,” I grind out. She might be able to flay herself open, but it’s not so easy for me. I need a fucking moment to gather my thoughts. To explain.
For the next ten minutes, we eat our meal in silence until she’s full. When her plate is empty and she lets out a tiny burp that makes her cheeks flush with embarrassment, I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and a packet of painkillers from the cupboard and slide both across the counter to her. She raises her brow at the painkillers.
“I figured you might have a headache,” I mumble lamely. Damn, I have a headache from all the shit that’s gone down tonight.
“Thanks,” she says softly, popping a pill before unscrewing the cap on the bottle of water and taking a long swig, washing it down.
“You’ve still got some sauce on your—” I say, my voice trailing off as her face pinks up.
“Shit,” she mumbles, swiping at her chin and sucking the sauce into her mouth from her finger. There’s still a small droplet sitting on the corner of her lips and with my half-eaten food forgotten, I skirt around the island and stop in front of her. Automatically she turns to face me with her knees pressed together, and her small hands resting on her thighs.
“What?” she whispers. “Did I miss some?” Her tongue slides along her bottom lip as she catches the droplet just at the same moment my finger reaches it. The tip of her tongue presses against my finger, and we both stiffen. Her eyes widen, her pupils enlarging at that faintest of touches.
“Right there,” I say, my voice hoarse, my stupid fucking dick jumping in my pants.
She withdraws her tongue, her gaze focused on me. I don’t think she’s actually breathing. I know I’m fucking not, but I can’t seem to remove my finger from her lip. In fact, my whole hand cups her cheek, my thumb replacing the spot where my finger was, whilst her eyes flash with both confusion andhope.
I see that hope, and it makes my fucking heart break and my head fill with questions.
She belongs to Jeb, and yet she’s looking at me like she used to when we were kids. She’s looking at me like she’s mine, like she’s always been mine. and I don’t know what to do with that.
Actually, that’s bullshit.
I know exactly what I want to do. I want to pick her up in my arms, carry her back into my bedroom and fuckingloveher like I’ve wanted to do for years now. Fuck the consequences. Fuck everything.
I contemplate doing just that when she reaches up and grasps my wrist, as though to pull my hand away. Her breathing is coming in short, sharp breaths as her fingers tighten around my wrist. My thumb rubs across her bottom lip, making the pinkness turn a deeper shade from my bruising touch. I imagine biting that lip, making it bleed like she made me bleed when she walked away from us. That moment when she told us we were over is branded in my soul. I’ve never felt pain like it. It hurt. It still fucking hurts.
“Don’t,” she mutters, her lips parting on a breath, but it’s a half-hearted demand. There’s no conviction behind it. She’s worn out, beat down, and I hate that.
“Pen—” I step closer, disobeying her as my fingers slide into her hair, and I grasp hold of her a little too tightly. “I just want to—”comfort you, hold you, be there for you.Fuck, I need to man up. I need to say what I really feel, but it’s hard, so fucking hard. There’s too much distance between us and I’m not good with words. York and Zayn were always better at this part. They always knew what to say. “Fuck!” I curse, annoyed with myself.
