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Savva tries to pay for me, and I’m tempted to let him, but that would mean a little too much to me. It would be like we were dating, and that’s one step too far in a direction I shouldn’t even be facing to begin with.
Savva lights another cigarette outside as I pack our purchases into one of his saddlebags. The other is ripped so far down that anything I could place inside would fall out. I wonder what that’s from.
I lean against Savva’s Harley as he smokes, watching the smoke leak from his lips as he stands squinting in the sun. “Why do you smoke?” I ask, more curious than scolding.
“It’s the only thing that keeps me sane,” he replies. “Why do you run a bar when you know it’s a ticking time bomb?”
I’m not the dramatic one.
He is.
“I run it because my father left it to me. I don’t have anything else because my stupid Psychology degree won’t get me any jobs worth working. I was living at home with my mom before I came out here,” I explain in annoyance.
He takes a long drag of his cigarette before responding. “Well, I smoke because it keeps me sane, and I’m smoking even more since I met you. I guess that tells you a lot about how I feel about you.”
I’m not sure how to take his comment, but I understand he’s a bit rough around the edges. Often, he’ll say something that strikes me as offensive, only for it to be a way for him to show his affection. I’m just not used to communicating with a morally bankrupt individual.
“Am I too much for you to handle?” I ask, cocking my head to the side.
“Oh, I can handle you, it just takes more effort than I would like to admit.” He laughs. “I’m not sure of you already know this, but I’m kind of obsessed with you.”
I wasn’t expecting such a deep admission from him this morning, especially not said so casually.
I smile, cupping my hand over my brow to see him better in the sunlight. “How do you expect me to get any work done if you’re going to admit things like that to me? I’m going to be thinking about you all day.”
“As if you don’t already,” he says, flicking his cigarette into the trash and walking up to me.
“You really think you’re that important to me?” I ask, although I’m sure we both know that he is.
He comes to a stop in front of me, his shadow cooling my face as he looks down into my eyes. “I think you’re just as obsessed with me as I am with you, my darling Oakley. In fact, I think the whole reason you’re refusing to give up the bar and run back home is because you don’t want to lose me.”
As soon as the words leave his wicked mouth, I know that they’re true. I never thought of it that way before, but as much as I make this about Angus, it’s become more about Savva every day. I can’t stop myself from falling for him, and he can’t keep his hands off me.
My breathing is shallow, and my voice catches in my throat when I try to speak. I want to deny his claim, to push him back and tell him that he’s lost his mind, but I can’t. He has me locked in his burning gaze, and I can’t move a single atom of my body until he releases me.
He bends down and kisses me on the forehead, then on the nose, and finally, my lips. I taste the burnt tobacco, but even more, I taste his emotions, and they feel like love.
My mind is racing, but words continue to fail me as I sink into his kiss, tasting him, loving him in secret when it’s so fucking obvious that I should be screaming it in his face. I want him to know, but I’m terrified of what it means for us.
This was only supposed to be a game, a cruel trick he played to humiliate me. I wasn’t actually supposed to fall for him. I was never supposed to feel this way.
I put my hands on his chest, feeling his muscles and moving down to his abs. They’re like hot iron beneath his white t-shirt, so raw and unrelenting that I feel dirty touching them in public.
He pulls away too soon, leaving me wanting more. “Come, I’ll take you back. I still have a meeting today, remember?”
I do remember but I wish I didn’t. I wish both of us could forget our obligations and spend the rest of this beautiful day together in each other’s arms. I want him to make love to me over and over again until we’re too tired to move, and then I want to fall asleep on top of him, curling up on his broad chest as he whispers his affections in my ear until I drift off.
The ride back to the bar feels like punishment, and when he leaves me there alone, I feel betrayed. I want him back. I want him to be here and to protect me, but he leaves anyway, telling me that Maxim should be here in an hour or so to make sure I’m alright.
But I don’t want Maxim.
I want Savva.
IneedSavva.
22
Savva
