He started the truck, tore a swath through the gravel, and sped down the driveway. Pain slammed into his head. A breathy grunt escaped his lips. The frequency connection opening. Fucking damn. It’d been a while since he’d actually felt that pain. Then again, it’d been awhile since he wasn’t either with Isleen or near her. Another reason that being away from her made no sense. She took away his pain and gave him control over his hyper-hearing.
I feel so stupid. But how could you be with me all that time, and it was only ever about sex? Ten years. Ten years of my life. How could that just be about sex?
“I could ask you the same question.” She jerked from him answering her thoughts. It was too fucking difficult to respond to only the oral shit. “You never made demands, and I never gave explanations.” He worked on keeping his tone soft, because his words were harsh and his head pounded.
He whipped the truck out onto the highway and sped toward town. Headlights from an oncoming vehicle pulsed with the throbbing in his head. He rubbed his temple. Three minutes away from Isleen felt like three years in a torture chamber.
“It was about more than sex to me.” It was an investment.
“But it wasn’t about love. You don’t love me. We were two lonely people craving human contact to ease our isolation. I needed someone who didn’t judge me and accepted me without strings. You gave that freely to me. I appreciate you for that.” He glanced at her. He’d never seen her look so forlorn and lost. “I am sorry your feelings are hurt. I wish I would’ve done things differently so we could’ve avoided this.”
Love? I don’t need love. I can picture us in that house living together.
“You deserve to be happy, to be loved. To be someone’s everything.” And, wow, did he understand that now. “You are a beautiful, passionate woman. There is someone out there for you.” He almost couldn’t believe the words coming out his mouth. When did he turn into a relationship expert?
She stared out the windshield. “Do you love her?”
Love. That was a word that hadn’t existed in his vocabulary until recently, and yet something about it and Isleen being paired in the same sentence felt honest and true. Maybe he was a pussy, but the first thing he was going to do when he got home was tell Isleen he loved her. He’d never said those words to another person in all his life, and now he was as excited as a kid with a secret to share. “I do love her.” And fucking damn, he was half tempted to turn the truck around and race back to her. He needed to be near her. Life felt wrong without her.
Camille gasped and flinched as if his words had bitch-slapped her. “You just met her. You can’t love her. You don’t even know her. You have to be confused.” What’s wrong with you?
“You don’t need me. You don’t need any man. You’re a strong, powerful woman.”
He sped into town, not caring about speed laws, only caring about getting her out of his truck and getting back to Isleen.
What does she have that I don’t? Just tell me and I’ll change. I’ll be what you want me to be.
Holy Christ. Her level of desperate-to-not-be-alone surprised him. It wasn’t like he saw her every day or even every week.
“She’s wrong for you. She’s all simpering and fake nice. You’ll get bored with her.”
He turned into her trendy apartment complex and parked outside her door.
“I bet she can’t give you what I can.” She put her hand on his crotch and squeezed his dick, and damn if his balls didn’t shrivel away from her, hiding themselves somewhere behind his liver.
He grabbed her wrist, tore her grip from him, and shoved her away. “Don’t.”
The silence growing inside the truck and in Camille’s mind seemed lethal.
He’d said what needed to be said, and now he needed to get back to Isleen. Camille didn’t look back at him, just opened her door, and stepped out of his truck. He reversed out of the space and sped for home, his mind locked on Isleen. Always Isleen. She was his guiding star, his reason for living.
Chapter 18
He’d lived his entire life on the same property, been up and down the steep, curving driveway so many times he could probably navigate it with his eyes closed. But tonight everything seemed off in some indiscernible way.
In the periphery of his truck’s headlights, the trees speared the sides of the lane, their sharp vertical trunks like raised pikes supporting the shrouded sky. Branches arched over the drive, hulking monsters ready to crush and smash. He heard his own damned heart pick up a faster pace. Tonight, nature felt oppressive and unfriendly.
He jammed his foot on the gas, going faster than what was safe on the gravel.
The worm of warning in his gut grew to the size of an anaconda. He shouldn’t have left Isleen. Call him possessive, controlling, jealous—whatever—he’d own it. But that didn’t change the bone-deep certainty that he wasn’t going to feel normal until he was with her again.