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“Now, what?” I breathed, afraid of the answer.
“Now, I need you to understand. One of us needs to walk away.”
“Valen...”
He shook his head, still leaning on mine. One hand went to my waist and he gripped it tightly. The other hand reached up and cupped my cheek gently.
“One of us needs to walk away, Harlow...” he whispered.
Then, he pressed a deep kiss to my lips. It was slow and soft, but deliciously demanding. He took as much as he gave.
My heart jolted like it was restarting. But this wasn’t a start. It was an end. I could feel it in the depths of my soul.
Valen finally pulled away from me like it took every ounce of his strength. He said nothing. As he walked out, he locked the car. I jumped as it beeped loudly behind me as though it was some twisted attempt at comedic relief against the sorrow I felt from Valen’s goodbye.
Chapter Seventeen
The next morning, there was a knock on my door long before even Florence was ready to be awake.
“Ugh,” she groaned as she burrowed into her pillows. “Shotgun not.”
“Ugh,” I agreed, hauling myself out of bed.
I opened the door, squinting blearily into the bright light of the hallway and took in the blurry sight of Apollo.
“What do you want?” I asked.
My morning voice was gruff and gravelly. On anyone else, it might have been sexy. The right anyone else. On me, it was definitely nothing to write home about.
“I wanted to apologise for last night,” he said, no sign of morning voice. I didn’t care if he didn’t have one, or if it meant he either hadn’t been to bed, or had been awake long enough to lose it.
“I’m really not in the mood for accepting apologies, Apollo. It’s too damned early.”
Apollo’s smile was self-conscious. “Right. No. Should have thought of that.”
I looked him over and realised he was in the same clothes as the night before. They were rumpled and his hair looked like he’d not had time to style it properly after sleeping on it. I felt my eyes narrow.
“Are you just getting back?”
He shrugged like it was nothing. Before he could say anything, I kept talking.
“I could have just met you there tonight,” I told him.
He smiled. “No. I know. I actually thought about that, but Valen wasn’t answering his phone, so I’m–”
“Not even here for me,” I interrupted. “Great. Thanks, Apollo. Good to know where I stand in the great hierarchy of Apollo-fucking-Callahan’s idiotic brain!” I snapped, just about done with his bullshit.
No. Not just about. Absolutely. I was done making excuses for him, done hoping there was a shred of the boy I loved still in there somewhere, done trying to save Frenella’s son, and done thinking that we could ever have a real relationship.
After whatever had happened in the club – him still walking away and leaving me for some random Magdalen – and then the finality of Valen’s kiss... My emotions were tangled and frayed and just so done.
I went to slam the door in Apollo’s face, but his arm flew up to stop it.
There was a muffled clap from the direction of Florence’s bed. “Woo, you tell him, girl,” she mumbled.
But I wasn’t that interested in Florence’s reaction, because I was paying attention to Apollo’s.
His eyes were wide and awe-filled. His mouth was only parted slightly, but it was his version of a jaw-drop, when there wasn’t skin on display. He blinked twice in quick succession, then pulled himself together.
