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Anna had changed the locks, effectively locking him out of her private spaces—her private life. What was next? He was already enduring her chilliness over text, and her obvious refusal to talk to him on the phone or even see him in person. Over the last several days, Anna had begun to systematically cut him from her life. And he’d let her do it, thinking that she was just upset, that she just needed time but she would be back and they would be good again. But the changed lock was like a slap in the face of his idiotic assumption.
“Why?” he asked again, louder, his voice carrying through the empty hallway. Why was she doing it?
His chest throbbed, his heart limping and yet racing.
He didn’t know what had happened to make her do that, but he needed to know, needed to hear her words so he could do whatever it took to change her mind. To get her back to the way she was before.
Because he had no idea what he would do without his Anna Cass in his life, near him, where he could hear her voice, see her smile, just be with her when he needed to reaffirm the vow he’d made to himself seven years ago.
Without Anna Cass in his life, it would have all been for nothing. The sacrifices, the excruciating denial of his aching, desperate need for her. The numbness that came with being away from her when all he wanted to do was crawl inside her and never leave. The abject pain that came with ignoring the way she looked at him when she didn’t think he would notice. The nights of pointless, unsatisfying sex with women who’d never measure up to the one woman he could never have.
No. He couldn’t live without her.
Never againwould he deny himself what his very soul needed to exist.
Sliding to the floor beside her apartment, he sat, his back against the door she’d locked against him.
Waiting.
Anna Cass had no idea what was coming.
He didn’t know when he’d fallen asleep or how long he’d been sleeping, but he woke up when a small hand shook him, and a familiar voice sighed, “What are you doing sleeping against my apartment door?”
He blinked up at her, his Anna, as she frowned down at him, her eyes—the color of fall leaves—were tired, her expression weary.
He couldn’t believe he’d fallen asleep while waiting for her. Then again, he’d been getting shit sleep since that night he’d called her to let him into his own apartment. He didn’t know for sure, but he knew something he’d said or done that night had triggered this fucking apocalyptic event he was currently living.
He grunted, getting to his feet but remaining against her door, refusing to move.
“Where have you been?” he asked, his tone rough, his words accusatory.
She reeled back, crossing her arms, which only pushed her luscious tits up, teasing him with a view rarely seen. Her expression sharpened and her eyes turned to narrow slits. He ignored the delectable sight of her plump, fuckable breasts and kept his eyes on her face…and the expression of “I will kill you” clearly written there.
“You damn well know I was on a date. Not only did I tell you but I know you were at Happy Jack’s tonight, no doubt hitting on anything with tits.” Her response sliced through him, the tone a wicked blade whetted with disgust.
For the first time in his life with her, he heard it…her hatred for his lifestyle. It stung like hell. God, he’d been a fool to assume she’d be unaffected by his manwhoring—because he damn well knew she loved him as a woman loved a man. It was in every look, every touch, and in everything she’d done for him despite how inconvenient or frustrating or emotionally difficult it had to have been for her. Shit—all the times she’d seen him walk out of Happy Jack’s with another woman. All the times he’d complained to her about how clingy or disappointing one of his partners had been. All the times he’d come straight to her apartment after fucking another woman, his clothes in disarray, his hair messy, his body reeking of sex…. He’d been so fucking thoughtless, so goddamn cruel to her. And he’d only just realized what a disgusting piece of shit best friend he’d been to her.
To him, fucking around with other women kept him from screwing up his relationship with Anna by giving in to his aching need for her and making things physical between them. They were friends, their connection was strong, why mess with perfection, right? But he’d been fooling himself into thinking things were perfect the way they were. He wanted more with Anna—had always wanted more with his Anna Cass. And he knew she did, too. In his selfish, emotionally immature mind, he’d never considered that all the fucking around would still hurt her. It had all been about what he wanted, how he felt, how his need for Anna would only hurt him.
I’ve been so selfish…so fucking blind.
She couldn’t know those women meant absolutely nothing to him. She couldn’t understand that he only fucked around because he couldn’t touch her, be with her, show her how much he adored her by using every inch of his body to bring her pleasure.
No more couldn’ts, Blaze…
“Yes, I knew you were on a date, Anna, and I know Sally told you I left the bar alone.”
She rolled her eyes but her lips remained pressed together.
“Why are you just now getting home? I’ve been waiting for you.” It was his turn to cross his arms, and his were longer and thicker, the veins in his forearms pronounced from the tension of holding himself back from shaking her.
“And don’t think we aren’t going to fucking talk about you locking me out.”
She arched a single, perfectly shaped eyebrow, her eyes darkening in challenge.
Fire blazed to life in his gut, scorching along his sinew and into his blood.
Challenge accepted, Anna-mine.
