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Get it together, Will. She wouldn’t want to be a part of your fucked up world even if she were to fall for you, which is highly unlikely.
No woman falls for the beast.
Women want a hero.
Something I’ll never be.
My heart squeezes like someone put it in a damned vise, tightening to the point that it’s barely beating.
What the fuck is that? Why am I feeling this way?
Shifting gears, I smoothly change lanes, weaving in and out of them. Flicking on my turn signal at the last second and pissing off the car behind me, I gun my engine, exiting the freeway and flying onto the mountain road.
The same road where Everleigh crashed into my life and my world flipped upside down. My heart beats erratically inside my chest, like a bird frantically flapping its wings, trying to get free from the cage that imprisons it.
And it hits me like a baseball that catches you off-guard when it flies into your stomach, knocking the breath from your lungs.
The thought of Everleigh leaving me and returning to her life has me feeling bereft.
I haven’t felt anything like this since the night my mom was murdered.
White knuckles clench the steering wheel as I blink back tears. I barely even fucking know this woman.
How the fuck has she made such an impact on me in such a short time?
Shaking my head, I reach over, turning the volume up to drown out my thoughts.
But it doesn’t work.
Before I know it, I’m making a comparison list of my mom and Everleigh and seeing so many similarities between them.
Physically, there are differences. My mom was blonde, while Everleigh’s hair is a rich shade of chestnut. Everleigh’s long hair is also thicker, the kind you want to run your hands through and inhale the floral scent.
What the actual fuck is wrong with me? I’m imagining smelling a woman’s hair. And when did I get so eloquent with words?
But there are big differences, apart from the physical. Everleigh is so damn strong. There’s a resilience there that rivals my own. I’ve also seen the stubbornness flare in Everleigh’s big brown eyes when I’ve challenged her. There’s a bit of a fuck around and find out attitude that flairs up, even though she’s injured.
Which makes my dick harder than a rock every single time she challenges me.
There are too many differences between my mom and Everleigh, so I’m not simply transferring my emotions like my therapist usually cautions me about.
I roll my eyes. This is a complete waste of my time.
Repeat after me: Everleigh isnota big deal. She’ll walk out of my life and…
And I see nothing except endlessly long, miserable days.
All these feelings from one fucking kiss.
Okay, more like one endless kiss that left me feeling like I was on a rollercoaster in complete darkness, flying blind but relishing the thrill that ran through me.
I couldn’t stop. Couldn’t get enough of her as her jasmine and amber scent washed over me like a tidal wave, drowning me in her scent. I didn’t fucking care if I died at that moment because her arms were wrapped around me, her tight body pressed against mine, my hands tangled in that luxurious chestnut hair. As my lips drank her in, she sucked a damned piece of my soul from me.
Though my cock was so hard it physically ached, I had no desire to rush anything with her. Although if she begged for it, I’d be inside her faster than a baseball player sliding into home base.
But still… At that moment, she was in control, and I would have given heranythingshe wanted.
And that’s what fucking bothers me.
