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Outward.
Nothing is kept inward. Otherwise, it’ll rot and cause my downfall.
Now is no different. The present and the past are only a step for the future. A stop, a station. They’re not what I should be focused on and I certainly shouldn’t be thinking about her fucking words. The words that she shouldn’t have said in that sultry voice that I want to hear say fucked-up things.
I don’t want safe and boring.
That’s what started it all. That’s what brought us to this moment where she’s staring at me as if I’m the big bad wolf from her favorite fairy tale. Even though it used to scare her, she wanted to hear the story over and over again, because that’s what Gwyneth does. Instead of running away like normal people do, she stands in front of what scares her and looks at it—or him—with those chameleon eyes.
I want to see what makes them that way, she used to say.Everyone has a reason, right?
And now, I’m the one she’s focused on. The one she obviously fears—or is at least apprehensive of. But she still willingly stands in the path of my destruction.
When I drove her back to the house, she didn’t stop her scrutinizing either. Her inquisitive eyes kept watching, observing, as if waiting for some sort of a sign.
What exactly, I have no fucking clue.
We’re now in front of King’s house. We agreed that I’ll be moving in, not only because we can’t leave this place empty, but I also don’t want her alone after everything that’s happened.
However, she doesn’t know that piece of information, and she never will.
“Go get some sleep,” I tell her.
She faces me with a slight furrow in her brows. “How do you know I didn’t sleep last night? I looked at myself in the rearview mirror, and I don’t have dark circles.”
“You have tremors.”
“Tremors?”
I tip my chin at her hands. Her fingers are shaking slightly, even though they’re lying inert at either side of her.
She lifts them up and stares at them under the sun, her lips falling open the slightest bit. And I want to jam my fingers in there, open her mouth wide with them and order her to suck on them.
I clench my fist.
What the fuck am I thinking about? In King’s house? About his daughter?
It’s those damn words. She shouldn’t have said them. She shouldn’t have confessed that she doesn’t want safe and boring. That’s what girls like her are supposed to want. Fucking safe and fucking boring. It’s predictable and with a known result.
This whole new thing isn’t.
“Oh. I didn’t notice that.” She lets her arms fall. “How did you?”
“How did I what?”
“Notice my tremors when I haven’t?”
“Because you were doing it when we were at City Hall.”Lie.It’s barely noticeable unless you look close—really fucking close.
“I was?”
I nod but don’t say anything else. She keeps watching me, though, as if waiting for my words. When they don’t come, she wipes her palm on her denim shorts.
“So what happens now?” she asks in that tone again, in that fucking bright and lively and damn curious tone.
“Now you go to sleep and I go back to the firm.”
“And after that?”
