Page 48 of Undercover Desires

“He’s dead,” is all I can get out through sniffs.

He cups my face, wiping away tears. “Who?” His caring eyes implore me to open up to him. He wants so much more from me than I can give him.

“Kobe, he killed himself because of me.” Words tremble past my lips.

“Sweetheart, I want to help you, but you have to give me more to go off. Who was on the phone?” He strokes my back in slow circles.

I place a hand on his thigh and stare up at him. “The police. My ex-boyfriend is dead. They said he fell asleep behind the wheel and ran into a tree, but I know he did this to himself, and it’s my fault. For months he had been threatening that he would do it if I didn’t come back to him, but I didn’t believe him. I thought he was just throwing empty threats at me to manipulate me. Why would anyone do something like that?”

“Are you sure that’s what happened?”

“The officer said he fell asleep and drove into a tree,” I cry, still not able to wrap my head around it.

“So, it was an awful accident.”

I wish what he was saying was true, but I just don’t think it is. “I cut him off two days ago,” I admit, knowing how bad it sounds, but I can’t keep all this inside anymore, it’s going to cause an ulcer or something. I’m not good at lying or concealing what’s going on in my life. Normally I say it how it is, and right now, I don’t have the mental energy to come up with some lie. He’s the only one here for me, and I need him.

“What do you mean?”

I bite into my lip, wondering how much I should say. I know I’m getting into dangerous territory with Kobe right now, but I can see how worried he is about me. He wants to help me. And other than the girls I have met recently, no one has really cared about me in so long. I want to accept his kindness. I can’t go home tonight and deal with this alone. It’s too big. “He was stillcalling me, begging me to come back, so the other week I hung up on him and changed my number. After talking to some girls here about it, they told me to cut him off altogether. So, I did,” I explain, hoping I don’t sound as crazy as I feel.

He studies me. “What do you mean by cut him off?”

“I was still paying his rent for him,” I whisper, knowing how terrible it sounds. I’m such an idiot.

He doesn’t hide the flash or anger in his eyes as he works out what I mean. “Why?” he demands.

“I felt sorry for him. He had a lot of problems, and he was there for me at a really hard time in my life. I guess I was trying to repay the favor.”

His grip around me tightens. “Why weren’t you still with him then, if you care about him so much?”

“We just didn’t work. In the end, I felt like his mother and had to do everything for him. I tried to talk to him about it, but nothing changed. I got sick of it. And when I tried to leave the first time, he wouldn’t let me go. He got all clingy, and if I’m honest, he scared me. So, one night when I had finally had enough, I waited for him to fall asleep, then I slipped out with just a backpack of the most important stuff and never went back.”

He pulls me closer into him and holds me tight, like he’s scared to let me go. It's strange—I should fear him, considering his reputation. He's the last person I should confide in, but right now, he's the only one I want by my side. I trust him, even though I know I shouldn’t. “It sounds like some really scary shit. I’m glad you got out when you did.”

“It was in the end. Something inside of me told me to run, so I did. But the guilt ate at me because I knew he couldn’t survive paying the bills alone, so I kept paying my share.”

He moves back to look at me, taking my face in his hands. He stares deep into my eyes. “This isn’t your fault, sugarplum. Youdid everything you could. More than you should have in your situation.”

“I should have done more to help him.” I sniff, tears welling in my eyes again.

“No! You did enough. You needed to walk away. I have seen shit like this before. It escalates quickly, and some girls don’t get out in time. He could have really hurt you.”

“He didn’t, he wouldn’t.”

“You don’t know that,” he says more seriously. “I’ve seen it, baby. Girls just like you, trying to help, until it’s all too late. You can’t let his decisions weigh on you.” The way he looks at me, it’s like he wants to take care of me. His hand rubs up and down my arm. It’s so comforting. Wyatt never looked at me like that. He wanted me to fix his life for him. He looked at me as if I could be his savior.

Deep down, I know Kobe is right. This isn’t on me. It can’t be, I didn’t force him to do it. If anything, it’s the opposite. I did everything I could to help him. Took him to therapists, helped him get work, paid his bills while he wasn’t able to. I did all the things, and he still didn’t help himself. This is so heartbreaking, but it’s not on me. I need to move on with my life and leave that pain behind me. Yes, he was there for me when my father was killed, he comforted me. But really, he was just there. I was the one who had to pack up Dad’s house alone, had to organize the funeral. I had to do it all. Wyatt was just there as a shoulder to cry on when I came home exhausted.

Kobe wipes my tears away, and I stare up at him, wishing he wasn’t being so kind to me right now. Not when I feel so lost, so fragile. It’s hard to keep hating him when he’s nice. In fact, it’s impossible, because I know without a shadow of a doubt, I don’t hate him at all. Without thinking, I reach my hand around the back of his neck, my fingers lightly playing with his soft hair. He looks at me in question, knowing what I want because he wantsit too. He has since the first time he laid eyes on me at the bar downstairs. I know it because I felt the same.

“Don’t look at me like that, Bella,” he warns, his dark voice betraying him.

“I can’t help it,” I whisper. In this moment, I want him more than I have ever wanted anything. I need him to take away my pain, to stop me from feeling this wretched way, all twisted up inside. I’m desperate to feel something more than sad. For two years it’s all I have really felt. And what happened to Wyatt tonight was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I can’t do this anymore. I know Kobe might be the devil himself, but right now, I need him to be my savior.

“Kiss me,” I plead, knowing I can’t stand this tension any longer.

His lips lower to mine, our mouths pressing together. I’m transported to a different time, when I was young and free, before my life got so complicated. I run my fingers through his wavy hair. His hand comes to the back of my head, drawing me in closer, our kiss deepening. He tastes of scotch and sin, and I savor every second.

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