Page 95 of Not Over You

Ciara was right about one thing: I felt guilty too. Especially about the thoughts I had since seeing her again. It took a quick glance from her bedroom window to know she needed me. And, when the guys told me how she had been holed up in her room since the news dropped, it was my job to get her to function again. But functioning wasn’t enough, I had to help Ciara be herself again.

Could I do that and not break our hearts in the process? I had to try.

It wasn’t about me; it was all about her. I had to ignore the salacious thoughts going on in my head. Forget how seeing her all grown-up, with curves in all the right places, made my dick hard. How she looked at me still like I hung the moon. I remembered how her lips felt and her tits pressed against mine when we kissed. Outside the restaurant, there was a burning inside of me that made me want to hurt her and heal her all over again, so she would feel how I felt and then know what it was she did for me.

We pulled up in front of the inn. The exterior resembled an old Southern mansion with columns and a wraparound porch. Magnolia trees lined the entry and the smell permeated everything.

The second floor had a balcony one each side. The first floor of the house was the lobby. It rivaled any big city five-star hotel with its marble fixtures, rich fabrics, and dark wooden furniture. Behind the main building was an eight-story structure which housed the rooms. A few villas were scattered around the property as well.

I jumped out of the car and helped Ciara out. I thanked the driver and headed into the lobby. If it was a few years ago, I would have known the hotel staff by name. I dated a girl; her family had owned the place. It had since been bought out and renovated. I lost my virginity to her in one of the rooms. Roman and Sean both dated the girl’s sister. One cause of their constant beef. We would steal a key to one of the villas and party all night. We had some wild times back then.

“What are you smirking at?” I looked up and saw Ciara’s reflection as we waited for the elevator.

“Just remembering old times.” The elevator arrived and we rode up to the top floor. I stepped off, but Ciara didn’t follow.

“What are we doing?” Her voice sounded so small.

I faced her. My heart sank. What was I doing, bringing her to my hotel room like some Neanderthal? I didn’t ask. It was what I needed to be close to her. To watch over her up to the second I no longer could. I had to be on a plane to Germany in the morning or my team would leave without me. I couldn’t let them down.

“You want me to take you home?”

She shuddered but shook her head.

I pulled her to me and held her.

“No, I . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“I have been in constant motion for the last six days.” I leaned down. “I just want to be still. I want some peace. And I need to know you’re okay.”

“I’m fine.”

“Well, I’m not.” I grabbed her arm and turned. “Come take a nap with me.” It sounded innocent enough.

“I’m not tired,” she pouted but followed.

“How much sleep have you gotten in the last few days?” I retrieved the key from my jacket pocket and opened the door. I booked the last room they had. It was a suite with two rooms. I dropped the key card on the small entryway table and pulled off my coat.

Ciara shrugged. She kicked off her heels immediately.

“I’m going to jump in the shower.” I hung my jacket in the closet. I worked on my button-down. I could feel her eyes on me.

I slid the shirt off my shoulders and threw it on the floor. Ciara’s eyes grew wide. I loved the gleam in her eyes. “Get comfortable.” I pointed to the bed and escaped into the bathroom. My feelings were a jumbled mess. I had the woman of my dreams. The mystery girl who popped into my brain when the words beautiful, sexy, or sweet were uttered. I remembered the instant she became Ciara Irby and not Bishop’s little sister. Or when I stopped thinking of her as a little girl and saw her as a woman. She was barely a woman. The night of our one and only kiss had ended in disaster. I wasn’t sure if she knew, but it was the first time Bishop and I got into a fight. We were usually breaking them up.

I, like an idiot, told Keith about the kiss, who told Bishop and I was screwed. We didn’t speak for months. It was the guys who got us talking again. Roman, on one of his infamous surprised trips, got the guys on his father’s plane under the guise of a weekend trip to Vegas. They had no idea they were headed to Paris Island, South Carolina. We all sat around a bar on a beach and drank ourselves silly until Bishop and I made up.

The next day, sober and embolden by our friendship of twenty years, I asked him if he was okay with me pursuing Ciara. His answer surprised me. As long as I was in the military, he preferred I didn’t. It wasn’t the type of life he wanted for his sister. I got the impression he left it open. I had to retire sometime.

I finished my shower and pulled on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. I stepped out of the bathroom to find Ciara in bed under the covers. She leaned up against the headboard, scrolling through her phone. I watched her for a minute. She sparked something in me I couldn’t explain. Joy and peace and freedom. And other things like lust and desire and dominance. I wanted to dominate her so bad. Have her kneeling at my feet while staring up at me with those big beautiful brown eyes. I wanted to tell her what to do and praise her when she did it. She always brought out my nurturing side, but it grew into something more. I wanted it. I wanted her.

I grabbed my head and pain snaked through my eyes and into my brain. I sat on the edge of the bed to keep from passing out. My heart raced out of control. I clutched at my chest and sucked in a breath, but the air wouldn’t quite reach my lungs.

“Ricky.” Ciara’s panicked voice sounded miles away. Her high-pitched voice did nothing to soothe me. If anything, it made it worse. I ripped the T-shirt off over my head and tried to stand, but my legs were made of jelly.

“Ricky, please.” She touched my arm and I yanked away from her like she was on fire. Or maybe I was the one on fire. I blinked but couldn’t focus. I made it to my feet, and stumbled before catching myself. I leaned against the glass wall overlooking our small town in central Texas.

“Ricky. You’re scaring me.” She gripped my arm and dug her nails in. “Don’t do this. Don’t leave me in the world to deal with this shit all by myself.”

She screamed in my face. I blinked again and the world came into focus.

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