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Not one sound or movement from Josephine as she stares blankly at me.
My heart races and my palms grow moist, waiting for her to respond, but she does nothing. “Please say something, Pixie.”
Slowly, her sun-kissed skin turns beet-red, and her costal eyes grow dark.Oh, fuck.
“You. Did. What?” She jumps off the bed and glares at me.
My hands rise in surrender. “Let me explain,” I plead.
“Get out!” she squawks, pointing to the door.
I climb off the bed and try to reach for her, but she takes a giant step back. “I cannot believe you! You havewaaayoverstepped.” She bends to sweep up my clothes.
“Baby, please. I was only trying to help,” I beg. She thrusts my clothes into my gut, making me grunt.
Angry tears roll down her elfin face when she addresses me. “Help? Help! And going to my parents’ house to win them over helps me how? They treated me like shit after Jacob fucked me over, making me feel like it was entirely my fault, and telling me I was irrational for walking away from him and my job. I want nothing to do with them, Maceo!”
Distressed, I drop my clothes and try to pull her back in my arms. She slaps my hands away. “Don’t fucking touch me, you asshole!”
I should honor her request and back the hell off, but I can’t help myself. I’m desperate to make her realize I didn’t do this to hurt her intentionally.
As tenderly as I can without hurting her, I wrap Josephine in my iron-clad arms, holding her thrashing body against mine. It’s not the first time I’ve upset her and had to restrain her against me, but this is by far the most severe offense I’ve committed—well, aside from the time I hacked into her phone and accessed all her data. I take her fist poundings and shin kicks in stride, knowing they’re deserved because, in her eyes, I not only lied but betrayed her trust.
When she finally wears out, she slumps against me. I lower us back on the bed and cradle her in my arms.
Her face is puckered, still stewing. “Why?”
She deserves answers, and now with her exhausted, I can finally explain my actions.
“Pixie,” I coo. My fingers brush the flyaways from her face. “Family is important. Everyone in my immediate family is gone. I don’t want the same for you. I’d do anything to have my parents andabuelaback. It’s the reason I formed my crew and latched on to you.
“You have every right to be angry with your parents and sister for how they treated you. I’m not asking you to forgive them. I only ask you to give them a chance to show you how sorry they are. They should apologize for their actions, and you deserve it, but the only way to get it is if you hear them out. Please, baby. You deserve peace. I don’t want you carrying around this resentment towards them—it’s dark and toxic, and you’re my light. I need you to try, please.”
She closes her eyes and shakes her head slowly. “I hate you right now.”
I understand. It hurts like hell to hear her say those words, but I accept them. I take peace in knowing she still loves me. Hate is not the opposite of love—indifference is. Her feeling ‘hate’ is only an emotion she’s having to the situation and nothing more. I hold her tighter and kiss her forehead.
We sit in silence for several minutes before Josephine stands to gather her clothes. I do the same and get dressed with her.
The air is still thick with the scent of our earlier lovemaking. I want nothing more than to bury myself deep inside of her, but the mood has sobered, and I can bet on not getting lucky with her again.
Once dressed, I follow Josephine from the bedroom to the living room, my eyes glued to the natural sway of her hips. I’m a perv because I can’t help myself, and I’m seriously freaking out with how she’s going to handle everything I dumped on her. I need the distraction to settle my nerves.
My eyes stay focused on her bottom all the way ‘till her grabbable ass plants itself on the couch. I groan internally and adjust myself through my jeans.
Josephine doesn’t say anything while she sits there, contemplating. I’ve learned my Pixie needs to internalize her stronger emotions and then express how she feels in a more productive manner.
I hate it. I want to know everything and anything she’s thinking, regardless if it’s nasty toward me or not. I do what I usually do when she gets quiet—I pace.
Back and forth, I go.
I pace in front of her ‘till she can’t handle it anymore.
“Maceo, stop. You’re going to wear a hole in the carpet, and it won’t help my condo’s resale value,” Josephine mutters, still not looking at me.
My hands run through my hair. “I can’t help it, Pixie. I don’t like it when you go all quiet on me. Makes me nervous.”And I hate it.I hate how it puts me on edge, doubting myself and my ability to care for her the way she deserves.
Josephine closes her eyes and sighs heavily. “I need to work through my feelings without saying something I may regret.”
