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“I’m going back up to help the guys finish moving shit. You sure you don’t want to paint or anything upstairs?” he murmurs against my lips.
I take a deep breath and step away from him so he can leave, even though I’d really like to stay in his arms. “No, white walls are fine. The only thing I want are blackout curtains," I grin.
Maddox shakes his head and chuckles. "That's it?"
"I don't want you guys to go to any trouble. It’s not like it’s permanent,” I shrug before continuing, “like I keep saying, it’s really sweet of you guys to want me to be on the second floor so that I’m safer while Drew is still out there but I honestly think it’s overkill. I doubt that he would ever try to come after me while I’m here, but I appreciate the thought. It still doesn’t change the fact that I have a home that I’ll eventually be going back to so all of this,” I gesture to the boxes and furniture that’s spread out everywhere, “it’s all probably just a waste of time.”
“It’s not a waste!” Maddox snaps before closing his eyes and breathing deeply. “I’m going upstairs” he mutters somberly before planting a kiss on my forehead and walking out. I stare after him for a moment, my face scrunched up in confusion at his mood shift.
“Pack your crap,” Nyx grunts abruptly, causing my eyes to swing toward him.
He’s wearing his usual pissed-off expression which does nothing to tamp down the lust that fills me at the sight of the tight black v-neck that’s currently molded to his impressive chest. It’s so tight, that I can actually see his abs. His full sleeves of tattoos are on display and I inwardly sigh at the sight. He’s so damn hot, even when he’s being a colossal assface.
When I don’t respond right away he huffs out an irritated breath, spins around, and yanks my dresser drawer open. The only clothes I have here are the ones Maddox and Gage bought me. Even the things I arrived in a few weeks ago have been tossed so I literally have nothing of my own besides what was in my purse which apparently Nyx had the foresight to grab when they brought me here after the attack.
The drawer he opens happens to be full of the normal bras and panties that I wear day to day. I stare at him, briefly distracted by his muscular back which is almost as impressive as the front view. I’m thrown out of my staring contest with his bulging muscles when he scoops the various pieces of lace into his big arms and tosses them into the empty box.
“What are you doing?” I shriek, charging toward him.
He doesn’t respond, just moves on to the second drawer. This one is just t-shirts and sweaters but the boys went overboard and it takes him two scoops this time to empty it. I cross my arms when he makes no move to stop his angry packing despite my protests. The third drawer full of PJs and pants goes just the same as the other two. He goes to open the final drawer, the bottom one, when I suddenly remember it's contents.
Gasping, I charge forward and shove his bent-over body to the side. He stumbles at the unexpected intrusion and glares at me.
“I’ve got it! You made your point, Nyxon, I’ll pack!” I snap, glaring back at him. We stand in a stare-off as one of us waits for the other to move. I’m not opening this drawer until he gets out but clearly, he’s not interested in what I want. Suddenly, his face breaks out in a panty-melting smirk that makes my mouth go dry. Licking my lips, I mumble, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Nyx stands to his full height and lets out a deep chuckle, the sound warm and velvety, giving me chills.
I wish he laughed more.
“What’s in that drawer that’s got you so freaked out,Princesa?” He points to the drawer in question that I’m attempting to block with my body. I shake my head, gritting my teeth and fighting the urge to stomp my foot. Too distracted by the nerves filling inside of me to even address the way that nickname makes me feel, even if it is said with disdain. He huffs out a laugh before placing a huge palm on my shoulder andshoving. I stumble and cry out in irritation.
“Yeah, I think I’ve got this one.” He quickly bends down and opens it. “Ahhh, this is where you keep the slutty panties, huh? Wow, lingerie?”
Nyxon tosses one of the exceptionally skanky outfits at me. It’s leather and has so many straps hanging all over it that I wouldn’t be able to put it on, even with an instructional manual. My face turns bright red as I snatch it from the air. Nyx busts out a loud laugh while shaking his head and going back to dig through all the scraps of fabric. I drop the weird leather contraption on the floor and dash back to his side, my heart thumping hard in my chest.
Just Hold Me-Maria Mena
“Seriously, Nyx, I’ve got the rest, please,” I practically beg.
The tone of my voice wipes the smile from his face and he looks up at me, questioningly, his hands still in the clothes. But then, something pulls his attention away from me. My heart plummets. No, no, no. Dragging my eyes down to see what’s captured his attention actually makes me want to pass out because I already know what it is.
“You’re this freaked out over a diary? It’s not that big of a deal, Isabella,” he mutters, his voice laced with confusion as he palms the little black journal.
Diary, he thinks it’s a diary. That’s good.
“Uh, yeah, you’re right,” I force out a small laugh. “Can I have it back, please?” He pauses for a moment, still looking down unknowingly at the bundle of my darkest confessions and broken feelings. He tilts his head up to look at me as he slowly stands. He extends his hand and I make to grab it but at the last moment, he pulls it away and chuckles.
“Not so fast. I think I’d like to get some blackmail on you to tell your boyfriends,” he laughs again, stepping away from me and slowly making his way to the bedroom door. “It will be easier to keep you in line if I’ve got shit on you.” He smiles and spins on his heel, darting out of the room with more speed than someone of his size should possess.
“No! Nyx, seriously! Please give it back!” I shout, my voice breaking in panic as I chase him. I run out of the room, dashing down the short hallway that leads to the living room. Nyx is standing in the middle of the room with his back to me, his eyes downcast on thenot journal. I stop abruptly, knowing it’s already too late. My throat burns and my eyes well up.
The silence in the large room is palpable. I stare at his back that’s now moving rapidly as his breathing increases. My hands shake and tears quietly stream down my face. Nyx’s broad body blocks my view, but I know he’s flipping through the pages of the well-worn notebook. I know he’s reading.
“Why?” he murmurs, his voice so low and rough that it makes me choke out a sob. Turning quickly, his eyes find mine and the look on his face is enough to have me wanting to run from the room. He lookshorrified. “Why?” he shouts. I shake my head and bring my hands up to cover my face as I cry.
What does he want me to say? I can’t answer him, I can barely breathe. Fuck, I should have thrown it away. No, scratch that. I never even should have had the damn thing in the first place. Who writes letters to a stranger for two fucking years? Who uses a person they hardly know as an outlet for every single one of their thoughts? Who says the kinds of things that I said in that book?
Redwood, I miss you.
