And I looked like crap. No makeup, a pair of brown trousers and a scoop-necked top from Marcia’s butch phase. She said it made me look suitably funereal, as did the tight bun and boring ballerina flats. Why hadn’t I bought myself a pretty little black number? Even Marcia’s zipper dress would have been better than geriatric brown and cream. I didn’t want to look good for James, mind. I take pride in my appearance at all times.#p#分页标题#e#
When I opened the door James scrutinised me and frowned. I didn’t look that bad did I?
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
I stepped aside, feeling gauche. “How did you know where I was?”
He took off his shades and regarded me with solemn green eyes. “My cousin told me I’d just missed you at the church. I couldn’t reach you on the mobile but he thought you might be headed here.”
And he’d come to find me on the off chance?
On second thought, condensing my trauma into a few hours was not a good idea. The day’s build-up was threatening to send me teetering over a cliff that just kept getting higher. Seeing James here of all places, in the house where I’d taunted him, wanted him and ultimately tricked him into sex was overwhelming. I was exhausted, drained of social niceties.
His gaze was steady, probing deep and seeing what I didn’t want him to. I couldn’t speak but it seemed there was no need. We were having one of those silent conversations neither one of us admitted to.
<<Why did you come, James?>>
<<Because you wanted me to.>>
“I’m supposed to phone Tarzan,” I said faintly, grasping for control. “We’re having supper at his parents’ and staying the night, but...” I faltered, staring at James helplessly. The backlash of the day’s emotions hit me. Memories I had worked hard to suppress for years would not be denied any longer.
“I’m so goddamn angry, James. I’m sick and I’m tired of...of...”
The tears had begun in the middle of my sentence and they flowed down my cheeks, as unstoppable as my shaking body. I tried to stifle the sobs bursting from my throat but they would not be denied and I doubled over from their force.
What was happening to me? I had never cried like this before, not even in my darkest moments. The next thing I knew I was grasping James’s T-shirt, pulling and pushing and beating my fists against his chest. Ugly snarls came out of my mouth and my body twisted and turned along with them. I don’t know how long I did that but eventually I heard James’s voice, telling me he wouldn’t let me go. He hugged me tightly as the last gut-wrenching shriek subsided.
I didn’t stop crying though, discovering a well that had somehow remained untapped. My sobs were powerful and noisy and went on for a long time but at least I’d left straitjacket territory behind. Night had fallen and I gradually became aware of where I was. The warm cloak surrounding me developed angles and ridges, muscular hardness and hot, breathing mass.
I was on James’s lap, cradled against his chest. His slow, even breaths were the only sound I wanted to hear, the hand massaging my neck the only touch I wanted to feel. I looked at the hand resting on my thigh, strong wrist and long, slender fingers. They radiated soothing heat across my body.
I should have felt awkward or flustered but didn’t. How could something that felt so right be so painful? My mind was a weak little voice telling me to get up but I lacked the willpower to obey. My head hurt every time I tried to open my eyes and I wished I could sleep for days.#p#分页标题#e#
My voice box felt sore and ragged. “I bet you didn’t know I was a closet psycho.”
“The thought had occurred to me,” he said drily.
I smiled against his chest, right before I felt guilty. Crying like a baby may have been cathartic for me but it was surely inconvenient for James.