“My name is Gabriella,” I remind him. “I am Gabriella. No one’s ever called me Brie before.”
The lie easily rolls off my tongue. The truth is that it’s been so long since I’ve heard that, and it feels good. It feels right. It feels like home. Not that I’ll ever tell him that. The name sounds so perfect coming off his lips, and what once used to cause my heart pain suddenly makes it feel just a little bit lighter.
His eyes flash as if he doesn’t believe me, but then he smiles warmly. “Good. No one else ever will. That will be my distinction, Brie,” he says teasingly, emphasizing the nickname I haven’t heard in years.
“Will you at least tell me why?” I ask, wincing at my pleading tone. I need to know. I need to know why he can see what no one else can. What Adrian failed—or perhaps refused—to see.
“One of these days, I’ll tell you everything,” he whispers, capturing my lips in another soft kiss that drowns out the slowly sounding alarm bells. “For now, let me help you. Or at least steer you in the right direction. You deserve so much more than this. You are worth so much more.”
“Do I? Am I?” I ask—mostly to myself. Self-doubt seeps in, and I wonder why this stranger would believe such a thing. How he could. I’m not even sure I believe it anymore.
A frown forms on his face as he steps back from me, tilting his head and steepling his index fingers over his mouth, tapping gently. “Every woman does. But it has to start with you. I can only tell you what I see, and that’s a beautiful woman in a shitty situation who’s unsure of how to get out of it. I’m offering a lifeline, but only you can decide whether or not to take it. It’s up to you to figure that part out on your own. When you do, you know where to find me,” he says, gesturing outside to the construction trailer about half an acre away. A few men are milling about, drinking from water bottles, awaiting the boss’s orders, I assume.
Just like that, the spell between us is broken at the reminder that he’s essentially an employee of Adrian’s and pursuing anything with him would be like playing with fire. I’ve been burned enough. Still, I can’t help but press a hand to my lips, which still tingle from his kiss. I know he’s right, and I should accept his offer of help, but the rational part of my mind still remembers that he’s a stranger who’s been hired by my ex. An utterly sexy one who’s succeeded in turning my world upside down with one kiss, but still a stranger nonetheless.
I trusted Adrian all too quickly and look where it got me. Even so, I don’t know how I can do this on my own, so I put his offer in the back of my mind for further consideration when I’m no longer reeling from his touch or craving another one. Either way, I’m grateful that he’s leaving. I need solitude to figure out what my next step should be. As amazing as a rebound sounds, especially with him, something tells me that it won’t be that easy. I’m terrified I’m too weak to handle something purely physical, and the last thing I need is to hop into someone else’s bed while I’m trying to get out of Adrian’s.
Just as he gets to the door, I remember something. “Wait,” I call out.
He turns to look at me, an eyebrow raised. A cocky smirk adorns his face, and I have a feeling he thinks I’m about to ask for just one more kiss. It’s not a half-bad idea, but I need distance from this man before I throw myself at him.
“You still haven’t told me your name,” I remind him, wanting to put a name with the face. And that kiss. Those eyes. That smile. Later on tonight, when I go against Adrian’s wishes and touch myself, I know exactly who will be the object of my carnal desires, and I want his name on my lips if he can’t be there physically.
A flicker of hesitation crosses his features as he runs a large hand through his hair almost as if he doesn’t want to give it to me. “Rafe,” he finally says.
“Rafe?” I parrot, having not expected that. As I study him, his name rolls through my mind. Ray-fe. It’s sexy, and it definitely suits him.
“Raphael,” he amends before scoffing. “The Great Archangel of Healing. My Catholic parents had lofty goals for me while I was still in the womb. I’ve always been good with my hands, but unfortunately, I work better with wood than I do with needles.”
A shiver runs through me at the idea of getting a demonstration of just how good he is with those hands. “A shame,” I tease, recalling the teachings from Catholic school. “You could’ve been Michael instead.”
Desire darkens his eyes as they rake over me, which tells me that he knows exactly what I mean. “The Conqueror? Is that how you see me? As someone to chase away the demons that plague you at night?”
Yes.
The word pops into my mind almost immediately, yet I can’t say it out loud. I tear my gaze from his, unsure of what to say. Will he do that? Can he? All I know is that I want him to, and that scares the hell out of me. I don’t wish to rely on anyone else, but I know I can’t do this on my own. Not again.
He lets out a low, disbelieving laugh and gives a slight shake of his head. “Just remember, when you’re all in your head, wondering how in the hell you got to this point in your life, don’t beat yourself up.”
Jesus, is this guy a mind reader?
“Why not?” I ask. “Obviously, I’ve done this to myself. I put myself here. If it’s anyone’s, it’s my fault.”
He shakes his head and takes two steps back into the kitchen, studying me for a moment before cocking his head to the side and letting out a deep breath. “It’s never quite that simple, Brie. We’re often blind to the true nature of those we care about the most. After all, the devil himself was once an angel,” he reminds me. A chill runs down my spine.
Does he mean himself or does he mean Adrian? Either way, the sentiment rolls around in my mind, and Rafe chooses to retreat when I don’t respond.