God, that poor woman.
“And ruined him?”
It scares me a little to think of that ruthless side. I mean, I’ve always known it’s there; I’ve just never seen it so close and personal, as intense as I do now.
Wesley had been broken, devastated by what Lucian had done to him. I think I should feel pity or something for the sadness I’d witnessed. Instead I feel nothing, not one single thing at the prospect of my man going to the mattresses for us.
“I took no more or less from him than what he took from you,” he says so deeply I flinch.
The words make that silly, sappy side of me come to roaring life, and I look at him, smiling gently at his annoyance. Something in my eyes, on my face, makes him pause, and I see him tense again.
“Lucian, I—”
That’s all I get out before he’s at the door and bolting, leaving my words of love whispering on my lips.
Chapter Eighteen
“Stop moping around and come have a drink with me. He’ll be back tomorrow.”
“I’m not moping.”
“Oh puleeeaz, you are so moping. I recognize that look. Seen it in my own mirror a time or twenty, thanks to Brody’s commitment issues.”
I laugh at the face Cammy pulls and flop down on the patio sofa, watching the wind kick up an eddy of leaves. Lucian has been gone for two days, doing God alone knows what, and I’m really mad that he left me so soon after everything went down.
It’s dumb, I know this. I mean, I’ve needed some alone time to get myself together, but I freaking miss him. A lot. Stupid ass love.
“Fine, so I’m moping a little. It’s just that…”
It’s too embarrassing to admit that I’d been on the verge of declaring myself when my husband had run like the hounds of hell were on his tail. More so to confess that he’d spent the rest of the day avoiding me before hopping a plane on some trumped up business thing just to escape me.
I’ve now decided to either make him suffer for hurting my feelings, or…well, I don’t know what else to do with these feelings, but I’m pretty sure I’ll come up with a healthy, or not so healthy alternative when I see him again.
“It’s just that what?” Cammy asks softly, keeping her eyes on me as we watch the storm pick up outside.
“It’s just that I suspect that he only left because I was this close to telling him that I love him.”
There, I’ve said it. It feels crappy having to admit that to another person, but seeing as my only other friend is a shrink and will overanalyze this to death, I need someone to bounce this shit off.
“Why am I not surprised?” she groans, grabbing her martini and taking a healthy drink. “My brother is nothing if not a coward when it comes to the emotional stuff. Did you know it took him five months after he’d brought me over to America before he gave me so much as a hug?”
“Nooo.”
That’s whack.
“For real, sister. I eventually dragged an ‘I love you’ out of him when I threatened to leave and go back to our parents if he was going to be such a cow about it.”
That makes me laugh hard, really hard, because I can so see Cammy throwing down the gauntlet and brining a grown man to his knees. Even if she’s a little bit of a thing.
I could almost pity poor Brody if it weren’t for the fact that I think Cammy is exactly what he needs. She’ll shake his ass up good and leave him panting for more.
I just wish I could say the same for me and Lucian. For real, that guy is going to run till his thousand dollar loafers have burn holes before he lets me anywhere near his black heart.
Asshole.
“Dude, if your brother takes that long and needs that much incentive to tell his own sister he loves her, I don’t stand a freaking chance. Especially not after—”
Don’t go there, Ash. Do not open that can of maggots up right now.
“After?” Cammy urges, her blue eyes watching me intently.
“Nothing, I—I…what am I supposed to do? I’ve never been in this situation before. Do I let it go and just get on with things the way they were? I mean, he’s so good with Ben, and I…”
God, this love stuff is turning my brain into whipped cream if I can’t even string together a complete sentence.
“No. What you do is beard the lion and bloody well force him to listen to you.”
“Yeah? What if he doesn’t… Well, I know he doesn’t love me, but what if that upsets him?” I ask, taking a drink from the throat-stripping martini she made me an hour ago. “Jesus, what the hell did you put in that shit, battery acid?”
“Alcohol,” she quips, topping me up again. “Listen, Ash, the only way to get by those defenses my brother has built up around himself is to take a battering ram to them. He’s stubborn and hard-headed and just male enough to spite himself if it means keeping himself protected. He’ll never get where he needs to be without a healthy shove.”