Page 7 of Ruthless Savage

Her eyes pop as I approach, and there’s real mirth caught within them.

I don’t want there to be. I don’t want her here. She needs to be far away from me.

I grab a chair and settle into it, keeping my expression tight even when every molecule in my treacherous body fights to make her mine.

“Got ten minutes, McHale,” Doyle blurts out before he buggers off.

“What are you doin’ here?” My voice carries indifference or even a bit of anger.

She shouldn’t be in this awful place, making time for me like I’m important.

She clears her throat and fumbles with her fingers on the table. “I’m surprised you showed up. I kinda got used to sitting here alone before someone tells me you’re not coming.”

Her face grows sad, and I hate myself for it.

“Better go home, love. This is no place for you.” My tone softens, and this is how I want to be with her. A man who’s never been soft with a damn thing in his life.

Her gaze widens as a result.

It’s then I realize what I called her.

It was a slip. A moment of failure.

Because it is something I dare to only call her in my dreams, where she is mine and I am hers.

It’s the only place we make sense. Because here, in our world, we never will. I’m darkness where she is light. We don’t mix. We don’t even exist in the same orbit. Too outside the realm of possibility.

“My place is wherever you are, Devlin.” She reaches her hand and grabs mine, but I quickly pull away.

Her nostrils enflame with her anguish and she blinks rapidly, stopping her tears from forming. But I see them, and I know I’m the one to blame.

“You need to stop coming here, Eriu. I mean it. I only came to make sure you were okay.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You come around the fifteenth. You’re a week early.” I run a hand through my hair, brushing it away from my eyes.

“So you do notice when I come.” Her lips twitch.

I grind my jaw in return.

“It’s fine. Don’t say anything. Glad to know you pay attention, even though you like to pretend you don’t.” She huffs. “Is that easier?”

“Is what easier?”

“Pretending I don’t exist.”

I ball a hand on the table.

Couldn’t pretend you didn’t exist if I tried.

But I don’t tell her that. It’d be leading her on.

“Why’d you come?”

Her features deflate, real hurt caught in the tendrils of her gaze. “Because I was hoping that if I showed up earlier than normal, you’d wonder if something was wrong and actually show up. Guess I was right.”

She looks bloody proud.

---