“No.” He jerked away when every instinct screamed to lean in, absorb the touch. Tell her everything. “How did you find me?”
Lita laid her head on his shoulder, running him through with an invisible sword. “I had a little help from our security team.”
“Impossible. You make their life hell.”
“Yes, I know. They might have mentioned it a few hundred times.” She exhaled, ruffling the hair at the back of his neck. The best feeling he’d had in six goddamn days. “Old News is playing two bat mitzvahs and one wedding this summer. For free. I haven’t met our new manager yet, but I doubt that will earn me a spot as teacher’s pet.”
Despite the situation with his father and knowing this moment with Lita couldn’t last, James almost laughed. “Only you.”
When they reached his Mustang, he noticed her ankle was dripping onto the sidewalk and didn’t manage to swallow the gruff sound that left him. “How could you let it get so bad?”
It took her a moment to release his shoulders when he set her down on the passenger seat. “I think…I thought if I hurt enough, you would feel it and come back. I wanted to punish you, too. For leaving.” She crossed her arms over her middle. “The only way I could do that was to punish myself.”
His hand curled into a fist on the car’s roof. “Can’t you see how wrong that is?”
“Yes. We were both a little wrong.” She held his gaze from below. “But I’m going to make it right.”
Chapter Four
Lita knew her plan was a gamble. And she used the word plan loosely.
For all she knew, it could make things worse between her and James. If such a thing were possible. The ride to the motel had been silent, his huge hands flexing on the steering wheel as they always did when Lita rode shotgun. Upon arrival, he’d ordered her to stay put in the passenger seat and for once, she’d put up no argument. The tension in him was a living thing as he rounded the Mustang’s bumper to jerk her door open. Then she was back in his capable arms, being carried across the twilight-draped parking lot.
“So. I think things went well with your mom.”
James said nothing, gaze glued to the motel as they approached.
“On the way here, the bus stopped at a Dairy Queen and someone thought I was Carly Rae Jepsen. Again.”
The man wasn’t amused. “You still haven’t explained what you’re wearing.”
“Be patient. I’m getting there.” Lita took a deep breath, hoping to stall until they were inside the room and he couldn’t bar her entry. She played with the collar of his T-shirt, her belly flipping at the dark chest hair peeking out. In four years, she’d never seen him shirtless and hoped that wouldn’t be the case much longer. When James set her down gently in front of a rusted, teal door and dug for the room key in his pocket, she watched the denim stretch across the bulge at his lap, the waistband dipping low. “I want to say something profound here, but I can only think of terrible pickup lines.”
“Please don’t say them.”
“Were those jeans on sale?” She pointed at the closed door. “Because I know where we can get them one hundred percent off.”
“Jesus.” He turned the key in the lock and shoved open the door. “I’m glad you’re getting a kick out of this.”
She gasped when he picked her up again, but recovered quickly and glanced around the basic, no frills room. “Maybe I’m just nervous.”
His stride broke just inside the door, the dark stillness enfolding them. “You’re… nervous with me.”
Lita threw her arms around his neck and held. “That’s not what I meant. Or maybe it is. But not in the way you’re thinking.”
He continued his stalk toward the bathroom, throwing on the fluorescent light and setting Lita down on the sink. “Explain.”
Now or never. Lita opened her mouth to relay her thoughts, but James chose that moment to remove her right shoe, sending pain slicing up her calf. “Ohh, God.”
James dropped into a crouch to inspect the damage, alarm written across his chiseled features. It was bad. She knew the way his skin paled, the way his voice emerged strangled. “If you were trying to punish me, Lita, it fucking worked.”
Shit. She was losing him. To anyone else, he would have appeared closed off since her arrival in town, but she knew him better than that. He’d been on the brink of finally talking to her. So she had to work fast before he retreated, risk be damned. “I wore this outfit because…I know you feel guilty about what happened that first night. So we’re going to go back and do it right.” She curled her fingers into the cotton T-shirt covering his broad shoulders, tugging, until he finally stood, watching her with a hooded expression. “Show me how you would do it differently, James.”
His gray eyes darkened, the sink groaning beneath his grip. “It won’t fix what’s wrong with me.”