Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 162138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
“What did I say?” Lachlan had his hands in his pockets and a genuine look of concern on his face.
“Nothing.” I shook my head. “Please go back to the dinner. I’m fine.”
He walked over slowly, the way zoo keepers walk into cages. I could have run, could have hurled insults at him, could have done several things to push him away, but I stayed put. He didn’t take his hands out of his pockets when he reached me. He didn’t say anything. He just stood there with his overbearing presence and his scent underneath a dab of cologne that oddly brought me comfort each time he was nearby. I wanted to throw my arms around him. I wanted him to throw his arms around me. Something about him spoke to me on a level I couldn’t quite understand. There was a hint of anger and pain underneath the athletic body and disarming smile. Maybe that was why he wanted to get past the walls I’d built around myself. I let that sit for a moment, let the fact that this sought-after hot hockey star, possibly the most handsome guy I’d ever laid eyes on, kept showing up for some wild reason. Tethering him to me would be selfish. Reckless. As much as I wanted him, I couldn’t do that. As it was, I should’ve forced him to walk away, and I would’ve—any other night. But tonight, I was tired. So fucking tired.
My bottom lip began to wobble, my eyes filling with tears, as I stared at the second button of his white dress shirt. I took another breath, sniffling, and swallowed hard to keep from openly crying, but I couldn’t stop. I didn’t even know Lach, not really. I couldn’t tell you anything about his family or his favorite food. Yet, somehow, I felt more comfortable around him than most people. Despite that, I hated feeling weak, especially in public. I hadn’t broken down in front of anyone besides Marissa, and it had been a while since she’d seen me like this. I’d give myself grace tonight. Maybe seeing me this way would finally make him run for the hills, and I would no longer have to try to push him away.
I didn’t care anymore. It wasn’t like I had a choice in the matter. There was no way for me to pretend nothing was wrong or hide my emotions. So, I didn’t. I wiped under my eyes and looked up until I finally met his eyes. I let him see me. This version of myself who bleeds the same as everyone else, who hurts like everyone else, who feels. He swallowed hard as his eyes took me in. I was sure he’d think I was nuts, but in his eyes, I found understanding. And that was what made the next sob leave my chest. He wrapped his arms around me and held me tight, engulfing me as he set his chin on my head.
“You’re okay.” It was a chant, a mantra, a promise. “I got you. You’re okay.”
That made it worse. My chest shook with that promise. I wished it were true. I wished things were different and I could allow myself to believe it, to welcome it. I hated this so much. He held me and let me cry until I had no more tears left. When I finally came down from it, I took a breath, pulled away, and wiped my face a few times. I was sure my makeup was a disaster, though, and I’d need to wash my face and reapply it.
“This is so embarrassing,” I whispered to the second button.
“Don’t do that.” He tilted my chin. “I would never judge you.”
I swallowed, took a shaky breath, and wiped my face again. “Thank you.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“I can’t.” My lip wobbled again, but I contained myself. “Not tonight.” Not ever.
He wrapped his arms around me again and exhaled as he held me, caressing the back of my right shoulder with his thumb in soothing, circular motions. I wasn’t sure how much time went by, maybe minutes, maybe an eternity, but I felt content for the first time in two years. I felt safe. I felt, period. And I knew it was wrong. Part of me wished I could tell him what happened, but I knew I couldn’t. What would I say? That no matter how much stalking he did, he’d never beat my actual fucking stalker, the person who had ruined my life multiple times? That I couldn’t go to the police like a regular person because the entire city was in his pocket? In the end, I said nothing. Not tonight. I’d have to put an end to it, though, because if this continued, I would be his ruin. And even I wasn’t strong enough to bear that much guilt.