Mixed Up(59)

Fresh flowers brightened the room, and the lone, wide windowsill was full of photos in frames. Drawn to it, I walked there and bent forward to see the photos. There were some I recognized-one was from her twenty-first birthday, another from her senior prom. Some were family pictures, and the others were more recent. Camille and Lani were in a couple, and one was a selfie gone wrong judging by the fact I could only see half of all their heads.

"Here."

I turned at the sound of Raven's voice. She held a glass out in front of her, and I stared at it as I took it. "I'm thinking it might be early for this."

She shrugged and sat down. "My great aunt Maria arrived this morning and immediately came to question me about my sex life. I need both our drinks to be able to function today."

"Yet you still managed to put on your lipstick."

"My lipstick is like a bra. It's a good support system, and the only person who's able to take it off is me."

I begged to differ, but still. "You wanted to talk?" I sipped the drink. It was crazy strong so, with a nudge to a stack of magazines, set it down on the table.

She nodded and tucked her hair behind her ear. She copied what I'd just done by setting her glass on the table, too. Her breasts rose as she took in a deep breath, and she punctuated the exhale by falling back on the sofa and diving her hand into her hair.

Clearly, whatever she had inside her head was staying there. Still, I waited. Never mind that I'd come here to talk to her. If she wanted to talk right this second, I had to wait for her. 

She was out of control. Only someone who knew her as well as I did would be able to tell it. She was in a situation she couldn't control, and she was struggling. Her jaw was tight and her fist was clenched, and her gaze flitted back and forth, focusing anywhere in the room but on me.

Her avoidance was so obvious it was almost laughable. Still, I waited some more. I didn't know what to say to her. I sure as hell couldn't tell her about the feelings I was developing, and I couldn't tell her we could ignore what happened yesterday.

There was no ignoring that.

There was only damage control.

The problem was I didn't know if I wanted to do damage control.

And looking at her sitting there in front of me with her thick, dark hair, captivating blue eyes, and fire truck-red lips did nothing but convince me that damage control was the wrong choice. Watching as a lock of hair fell from behind her ear so she could replace it again did nothing but endear her to me.

It didn't matter if she was giving you a look so sharp it could slice steel or telling you exactly what she thought of you, she did it all with an air of self-confidence. It was rapidly becoming clear to me that she marched to the beat of her own drum, one so many people didn't know existed. She didn't care what anyone thought of her, and as far as she was concerned, those opinions didn't exist in her world.

She was confident and strong, ruthless yet gentle.

She was beautiful, always.

But right now, doing absolutely nothing, Raven Archer was breath-taking.

Me?

I was fucked.





CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Raven





The way he looked at me was unnerving. His gaze was unwavering, intense, almost soul-piercing. I didn't know what it was about his eyes, about the way they looked at you so steadily it felt as though he could see right through you.

That was how it felt knowing he was looking at me despite the fact my own gaze was trained on the wall in front of me. It felt as though Parker could see right through my silence and into the deepest part of me where the words were stuck. Where they couldn't break through the thick silence I was suffocating in.

How was I supposed to tell him how I felt when I didn't even know? Was I supposed to tell him that I'd spent half my night struggling against my inability to regret what we'd done? Was I supposed to tell him that no matter how hard I tried, the guilt was never more than a whisper? Was I supposed to tell him that I'd looked in the mirror and told myself that having sex with him was wrong but I couldn't bring myself to believe it?

Was I supposed to lie? To tell him all the things I knew I should have felt but didn't? Hell, I was guiltier that I didn't feel guilty. It was the most screwed up situation.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. I wasn't supposed to feel the things I did for Parker Hamilton. I was supposed to be able to exercise the same control over my emotions the way I did the rest of my life and my business, but he shot all that to shit.

He wasn't the same guy I once knew.

I knew that, but I had no idea how right I was when he walked onto my parents' back porch. He'd never been tempting or dangerous to me, yet now, he was the catalyst for everything that could go wrong in my life. I wanted him but I didn't want to. I wanted to feel his lips against mine one more time.