It’s easier to pretend that’s the case than acknowledge how insane the ignorance still leaves me. How I can know practically everything about a person—from their favorite color, the name of their kindergarten teacher, the sounds they make when they orgasm—and still be left in the dark when it comes to something as fundamental as intent.
Maybe it’s better that I don’t know the truth behind Riley’s actions. Maybe if I did, I’d see them for what they most likely are; a lost girl enjoying the embrace of a man who lost his fucking mind the second he met her.
I haven’t been the same since that night in New York.
For many reasons.
And I guess part of me is afraid to find out that she is.
Hanging up with Liam, I close the laptop and slide it into its carrier, dragging my luggage to the foyer and propping instruments against the wall. I head back into the bedroom and try my hand at closing the suitcase that would be a hoarder’s wet dream, when a soft gasp startles me.
“You did steal my panties!”
Jaw clenched, I turn as Riley strides into the room, irritation lacing her delicate face. She stomps over to the bed and hooks a finger in one lacy pair, holding them up as if I can’t see what she’s talking about.
I force a smirk. “What did you think happened to them?”
Both her hands dive in, picking up over a dozen scraps of different feminine fabrics. “I’ll have you know my friends thought I was insane when I told them my underwear drawer vanished. Fiona was threatening to schedule me a psychological evaluation if I didn’t stop claiming a ghost had robbed me.”
“Ah, well. I had to get your attention somehow.”
Perching on the edge of the bed, she continues sifting through her things, and shoots me an exasperated look. “Dude, are you a peppermint connoisseur now? You know, I don’t smell like this all the time. Just seasonally.”
“Shh,” I say, reaching down to clamp my hand over her mouth. “Don’t ruin the illusion, angel.”
When I release her, she giggles, crossing her legs as she looks out the door. Her eyes grow sad, and I turn to follow her gaze to where my things are packed up and ready to be loaded into my Volvo.
“You’re leaving,” she says, and even though her words are even, there’s an undercurrent of disbelief hidden in them. Almost like she’d been expecting me to stay.
“Duty calls. All the time we’ve spent together, and our futures were never discussed? We both knew this wasn’t going to last.”
She tilts her chin up, finding my eyes, and the misery that swells in her sapphire gaze is almost my undoing. Almost enough for me to say fuck it, drag her to a back room and keep her my happy little secret forever—not because I’m ashamed, but because I don’t want to fucking share her with the rest of the world.
Which is exactly why I’m not asking her to go with me.
“Don’t look at me like that, pretty girl.” I pinch her jaw, slightly rougher than necessary, and swipe my thumb over the scar at the corner of her mouth. “This has been quite the learning experience for the both of us, but you know what they say. All’s well that doesn’t end well.”
She frowns, jerking away. “That’s not the saying, and you know it.”
“Doesn’t matter. If a crabby tattoo shop girl says it, it must be true, right?”
Surprise flickers across her face, and I smother the satisfaction that crests inside me. “You heard her that night?”
“I heard everything.” My hands fall to my sides, and I spread them out over my thighs. “I won’t lie and say I wasn’t hoping that my quip about fate intervening was true, but it probably makes sense that it wasn’t. We’re from far different worlds, aren’t we?”
“Yeah,” she says, dropping her gaze and the underwear in her hands. “I guess we are.”
She swallows, and my heart aches. Begs. Yearns. For all of her—body, mind, soul. Whatever pieces of herself she’d allow me to enjoy, I believe in this moment that I’d take them and run, damn the consequences.
“Were you always planning to leave?”
I nod, not wanting to add lies to my list of offenses. “I was supposed to ruin you.”
She laughs, but the sound is hollow. Empty. Not the lilted caress I’ve come to love from her.
“Do you think you haven’t?”
Glancing away, I scrub at the underside of my jaw, sucking on my teeth. “Then I guess I’ve accomplished what I needed to, hm?”
“Oh, good. Asshole Aiden’s back.”
“He never left.”
Her shoulders slump, and she tucks her pink hair behind her ears, scoffing. Christ, she’s never looked more beautiful than when she’s upset with me.
Hurting her shouldn’t arouse me so much, but it does, and before I know what I’m doing, I’m dropping to my knees at the foot of the bed and crawling between her jean-clad thighs.
Her nostrils flare as she looks down at me. “Do you honestly think sex is going to soothe my wounds?”
“I don’t fucking care if it does,” I say, pushing her back so she’s flat on the mattress. I hook my fingers in her waistband and tug them down, ignoring the look of disgust on her face. “I’m trying to soothe mine.”
“Well, I don’t think we should—”
“And I’m still not taking no for an answer. Shut up and let me taste you one last fucking time.”
She doesn’t utter another word as I yank her pants off her feet and throw them over my shoulder, then bury my face between her thighs. Within seconds, she’s pulsing against my tongue, hips grinding desperately, fingers twisting in my hair and pulling tight.
I ignore the expectant gleam in her eyes as I wipe my mouth on the inside of her leg. My mouth dries up as she continues lying there, slightly dazed and dripping.
My cock throbs behind my zipper, but I will it to soften, knowing without checking the watch on my arm that I don’t have time to fuck her fully. At least, not literally.
Riley doesn’t move as I continue about the room, double-checking to make sure I’ve grabbed and packed everything of significance. When I go back to the suitcase on the bed, she rolls to her side and watches me struggle to close it.
“You wanted to know what happened that night,” she says after a few silent moments, and the blood freezes in my veins, curiosity spinning an intricate web inside my chest.