“Okay.”
I refused to look at her on the ride up to the apartment. Sobering up, Harlow crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the ground.
“After you take a shower,” I said before we reached our floor, “we’ll pack your stuff and I’ll take you home.”
Harlow didn’t respond to my words. The doors opened and she followed me down the hall and into the apartment. I waited for her to react with anger or sadness. I expected something. Yet disappearing into the bathroom, Harlow denied me a reaction.
Chapter Twenty Five ~ Harlow
No way would I beg. Only losers begged for someone’s affection. I wouldn’t do it.
The hot water sobered me up, scrubbing away the chlorine and arousal from my body. I took my time in the shower. After washing my hair, I let the conditioner sit for a while. I needed time to think.
I refused to beg Saint for another chance. He wasn’t worth losing my pride. Never would I give him the satisfaction of asking him why. Fuck him and his tragic past and fuck him again.
So angry that I didn’t even dry off before dressing, I stormed out of the bathroom. Saint stood at the kitchen, staring darkly at the counter, likely feeling bad because life wasn’t easy for him or some shit.
“Fuck you,” I said, finding my voice even if it sounded young and scared. “You can’t use me to get off then send me packing.”
“That’s not what’s happening and you know it. I lost control.”
“You’re fucked up. So what? I am too, but you keep pushing me to say things and do things. You push me past my limits and say it’ll make me strong. Then the first time you hit one of yours, you want to bail like a fucking baby.”
Saint glared at me. Maybe he was angry at me or at himself. Either way, I didn’t care. He’d pulled me closer today and made me trust him then he told me it was nothing.
I backed away when Saint stormed towards me, but he caught me and forced my gaze on his.
“Don’t cry.”
“Fuck off. I have a right to cry. You can’t tell me what to do anymore, if you have no balls to face the tough stuff too.”
Forcing me into an embrace, he held me fiercely against him. “I hate when women cry.”
“You hurt me. Don’t you care?”
He caressed my head. “The day in the woods when you tried to kick my ass, I felt tempted for the first time in… I don’t even know how long it’d been. I thought I could handle a little temptation except the temptation grew and I can’t control it anymore. I want you and I don’t think I can protect you from my feelings.”
Staring up at him, I found Saint still hiding behind a mask. Too afraid of showing his real face, he remained a confused man lost in his own fucked up head. I imagined him locked up in Mexico, day after day, struggling to keep his soul. He eventually lost the battle. Now, he was fighting again.
“You want me,” I said, making sure it didn’t sound like a question.
“You know I do.”
“You’re not a coward, so don’t act like one.”
Saint studied my face before using one hand to cup my cheek while his other arm held me close.
“I’d never been with a woman before Mexico. Never knew how it should be before I knew what it shouldn’t be. Now when I get aroused, I get mean and rough. Fucking makes me violent. I thought I could control myself with you because you’re you, but I was wrong.”
“You need to learn,” I said, leaning my cheek into his warm, rough hand. “You want to teach me to be stronger. Why can’t you train yourself too? I mean, when was the last time you pushed yourself beyond what you could control? You’re strong enough to try, yet you act like a pussy.”
Saint gave me a tight smile. “What if I push myself too far and hurt you? What if I break you? Where will that leave us? I don’t feel ruined yet. I still think one day I’ll be the man I once was, but if I hurt or destroy you then I’m done. I can’t come back from that because I’ve never hurt an innocent person. Even when it would be easier, I don’t cross that line. I need to believe I can come back from being this man.”
“We'll go slowly. We won’t push too far too fast. Of course, I’m assuming you really want to do this rather than chickening out like a little bitch.”
Saint pressed his lips against my eyebrow. “Thanks for the tough love pep talk.”
Ignoring the tears pouring down my cheeks, I pretended as if I was the strongest chick alive. “You asked me to stay here and be your dreamcatcher. I’m not ready to leave, so I’m not leaving.”
“Good, but I can’t promise I won’t fuck up.”
“No one can make that promise,” I said, sighing. “Not really.”
“True,” he whispered, lifting my chin and pressing his lips against mine.