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“No. But again, youarestuck—”
“Fucking Christ, I heard you the first time.” I rubbed my eyes. “I know. I get it.”
He grew quiet for a moment. I felt his eyes on me, but I ignored them.
The strange thing was, when I was with her, it didn’t feel weird. Her presence was comfortable. Not even in the sense that it was comforting. It wasn’t. Being beside her didn’t make me feel safe, and in love, and at peace. It just felt… casually content. There was passion to each kiss we shared, a yearn to protect her, a craving for all of her, but the connection alone didn’t feel like that. It wasn’t purely attraction. It was like we’d known each other forever.
Just thinking that made me cringe.
I didn’t know her. I wanted to, but I didn’t, and I shouldn’t have felt like I did.
“Do you like her?” Emory asked.
A huff of a laugh left me. I lifted my beer to my lips and gulped.
“I’m not talking about romantically,” Emory said. “Just in a general sense. Do you like her as a person?”
“I don’t know her,” I said. “I like that she likes books. I like that she cares enough about some girl she hardly knows to look for her. I like that she takes care of her little sister. But outside of that, I don’t know her enough to tell if I actually likeher.”
“Hm.” He gulped his beer that time. “Fair enough.”
Another minute ticked by, only the quiet whirr of the wind outside the cracked window and the distant hum of cars on the highway.
“Is the sex good at least?” he asked.
“The sex is amazing,” I said. “Like, fuckingmind-blowing.”
He shrugged. “Start there then. Keep fucking and see where it takes you.”
I laughed. “That’s the best advice you’ve got?”
“I think it’s great advice.” He shot me a smile. “Look, you said it yourself. You hardly know each other. But if you’ve got one good building block, let it be the foundation. See where it goes. See if there’s a possibility for anything more.
“If you end up hating each other, make some calls about getting some mental barrier spells. You can’t do anything about the physical bond, but as long as you two don’t get shot or stabbed frequently, the pain angle isn’t likely to interfere with your life. You live a city away. Your paths won’t cross unless you seek each other out. If you end up deciding it isn’t going to work, then so be it. Cut off contact like we all do with our exes. The most you’ll have to do is call to check in whenever a knife slips while you’re making dinner.”
“So your advice is to just go with it.”
“I don’t see what other options there are,” he said. “You could cut her off now. But it doesn’t seem like you want to.”
My gaze turned to the chilled bottle of beer in my hand. I slid my thumb along the condensation that dripped down the neck.
No. I didn’t want to.
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
WEDNESDAY - BROOKE
Tugging my jacket in closer, I gazed out over the peaceful blue waves. Cool wind brushed against my cheeks, and I wished I would’ve stayed in my slacks. The warm smells from the restaurants along the water drifted into my nose, forcing my belly to growl with hunger.
I glanced down at my watch, reading 5:48. Damn it. I should’ve stayed at the house until two ‘til. Then I wouldn’t have looked like the dumb bitch in every dramatic movie watching her life drift along the waves as though I was pondering some massive life question.
Then again, I supposed I was.
Where do I go from here?
The last time I’d seen Declan was Monday, but when I got a paper cut yesterday, the first thing that came to mind was him. More than a thought, even. I saw through his eyes as he dropped a bottle of wine and examined his thumb out before him, just as I was sure he looked down and saw my bleeding thumb over his own perception.
It was so strange. Even when we weren’t together, he was there. Just a paper cut away. It sounded sort of sweet if not for the fact that we were damn near strangers.
