MY HEART THUNDERS in my chest and my ears and neck are hot. She glances at the door again, and I snap, “Look at me,” and her wide eyes lock with mine. “I’m done playing these games. Done with your excuses. Tell me why you ran in here looking like someone died. You said the boys are okay. What the fuck is going on?”
Her shoulders shudder with a broken inhale as her gaze falls. It’s a fucking wonder, but I watch her shore up her walls. She straightens her spine, squares her shoulders. If I could see her face, I imagine she’d wipe it clean of expression, maybe twist on a scowl or a glare. Her eyes would be blank, nearly dead of emotion.
But recognizing it for what it is, I bring one hand to her jaw before she’s finished the routine and catch her panicked expression. I’ve seen enough men cornered to recognize the desperation I see in her eyes. What would make her so afraid? My first instinct is to protect her, even after the betrayal and abandonment, and I curse her and myself for it. I lock my arms beside her thighs to keep from cradling her into my lap.
“Get your hands off me,” she snarls.
My simple “no” makes her nose flare in indignation. Her hips wriggle, but I’m bigger and stronger. She’s not getting out of this unless I want her to.
She switches tactics. “I’m sorry, I don’t have an explanation. I just thought you were in trouble. Freaked myself out about it.”
“So you come running here after you just kicked me out? That doesn’t make sense, babe. Try again.”
“Fuck you. Let me go.”
“I told you, not until you tell me what the fuck is going on.”
“You mean, why did I come here, or why did I leave you?” If she could put her hands on her hips she would. “Because we both know the reason you’re so interested is because I left you.”
I shrug. “That’s not news. What I want to know now is why you’re as white as a fucking ghost and lying about it.”
“Everything is—”
“Keep lying to me, Sofie, and you’re going to piss me off.”
“You’re already pissed off.”
“I’m irritated, and I can get pissed off real quick if you want, but that’s not going to make me less interested in what you’re doing here.”
She trembles underneath my palms. “Just let it go,” she pleads. “Please.”
Finally, we’re getting somewhere. “I don’t think I will this time. I let it go when you left me. When you kept leaving me. When you pushed me away. I don’t think I will now.”
She growls. “Is this because you found out I fucked someone else? Some twisted need to reclaim your territory. If it is, I’m not interested.”
“Stop trying to dodge the question. What are you so afraid of?” The last part I direct more towards myself. What would cause her to come flying into the gym like a bat outta hell? I know it isn’t the boys, she said so herself. If it were Livvie or Cole she would have gone straight there.
The only reason why she’d come here is if she were worried about me. I look back at her and she looks away. Bingo.
But why would she think something had happened to me?
My fingers bite into her hips, my frustration growing. What the fuck had her so afraid she thought I was in danger? She’s one of the strongest people I know, so it would have to be something life or death. Something that would send her back to me, even though we’d been arguing.
“Is someone…” I clear my throat, unable to say the words. “Is something, someone bothering you?”
“No,” she says, a beat too quickly. Her gaze falters and her shoulders jerk.
“Don’t,” I force myself to take a breath, then I say through my teeth, “Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not lying to you.”
“Well you’re sure as hell not telling the truth.” I pause, considering. “Makes me wonder what else you’ve been lying about.”
Her face drains of color and she vibrates beneath my hands. Her lips are white and pulled thin when she says, “I asked you to let me go.”
“I’m not gonna do it so forget it.” I get to my feet and settle on the couch next to her, making sure to put myself pointedly between her and the door. “We can stay here all day.”
“Maybe you can, but I’ve got to get back to the boys.”
“I’ll take care of them. Ben can pick them up.”
“Jesus Christ, how many times do I have to tell you we aren’t your problem anymore?”
I move in close, until she inches backward on the couch and hits the arm and can go no farther. Pinning her beneath me, I catch her gaze and say, “Until you mean it.”
She sucks in a breath. “Please.”
“Tell me,” I order.
She shakes her head, turning away from me.
“C’mon, baby. Just get it out. Tell me.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
“You’re going to hate me.”
An ache starts in my gut, pulsing and white-hot. “No, I won’t.”
“You already hate me.”
“No, I don’t.”