Page 42 of Our Ruined Beginnings

He turns halfway up the staircase.

“Why shouldn’t they be?” he spits. “You think mine are gonna be a blast with my twin in the coma you put him in?”Fuck.That hits like the sledgehammer I’m guessing he was hoping for, and tears fill my eyes. He goes blurry for a second until I blink my watery eyes away, and then he’s back, rolling his at me. “You’re crying?”

“Well observed, Sherlock.”

“Why?”

“Are you dense?”

“No, just confused.” I know it’s gonna hurt, whatever he’s building up to say. “What right do you have to play victim?Youare the one who—”

“Fuck you,” I spit out. As if I would ever forget.

“Is that why you’re here?” he asks with a cocked brow, stalking back down toward me.

“I’m here because I have nowhere else to go.”

I try to hold my own, to not back away from him, but it’s hard when his gaze is so dangerous. The wall bumps my back, and he closes in on me.

“Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?”

“Do you feelanything?” The confusion is making my head swim and emotions war inside of me. Another tear tracks down my cheek, and he follows its path with his eyes.

“It’s too much, Lily. So many fucking tears. Who are they for?”

I try to shove him away, knowing he’s only going to hurt me more, but he doesn’t budge, and the way his honed body rears over mine has my breath coming short and my mind turning to mush. How can I still be attracted to him when he’s literally tearing me down, strip by strip?

He chuckles humorlessly. “Then again, I think I prefer the tears to the impenetrable bitch you’ve been recently.”

“You like seeing the effect you have on me, you mean.”

“I like seeing how I affect you. I always have, and if this is the only way you’ll give it to me, it’ll do.”

“So I batten down my emotions, and you’ll pull them from me one way or another.”

“Remember what you used to give me? The way you used to search for me in a room and relax when you saw me. The way you’d inhale when we touched. The way you’d watch my lips when I was too close.”

My traitorous eyes snap up to his from where they were watching his mouth, although I still catch the way he smirks.

“You did those things too,” I argue. He did; I’m not imagining it. So, does he feel the same right now? Does his body also hum from having us so close?

“I did. For a girl that didn’t exist.”

“I’m still that girl, Madden.”

“No, you’re not. Now you’re just the girl who ruined my life.”

With that, he finally leans away, and I feel like I can breathe again, but it makes room for the giant sob that racks through me at his words. I hate that he thinks that—that the guy I adore and would do anything for only sees me as that person. But I’m not his fucking plaything, and I’ve been hiding how I feel for months now. What’s a couple more weeks?

I scrub at my eyes with my fingers, take a couple of deep breaths to compose myself, and he watches me curiously as I straighten. For one long moment, we stare at each other without saying anything, until finally, he turns and makes his way up the stairs. I stay rooted to the spot until I hear his bedroom door slam.

Madden

Yeah, okay. So this was a mistake.

Three minutes into her stay, and I almost mauled her right there in the hallway.

When is my body gonna get on the same fucking page as my head and keep the hell away from Harper? We won’t even try with my heart.

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