Page 98 of Stay for Me

More silence.

“Um, about what?” I asked, my stomach in knots.

Once again, Mags was back to his usual silent self.

The fire cracked and settled beside us as he continued to lean over me, the dark, endless pools of his eyes beckoning me to the depths as they always did. All thoughts of my hike gone wrong, my friends’ advice, and the offer from Yale faded away as I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, memorizing every inch of his handsome face, his dark, untamed beard only adding to my never-ending addiction to him. Locks of his black hair hung around his face now, drowning out the rest of the living room behind him. My eyes kept moving, unable to stop as they greedily took him in, and when they landed on his massive chest, my clit hummed.

Great—I’d fallen down a mountain today, and my body wanted sex.

No, it wanted him.

My eyes moved over to his arms, and from this angle, I could see the underside of his bicep—

Ice shot through my veins, chasing away my need for him when my eyes landed on it: the damaged, raised, discolored skin. It took up most of the underside of his arm, disappearing underneath the sleeve of his shirt.

That was burn mark.

Mags had been burned.

“What is that?” I asked, my voice cracking as my mind tried to comprehend the pain he’d suffered.

When he didn’t answer, I gradually lifted my eyes back up to his, seeing nothing but devastation etched in his features. “Burn.”

That was all he gave me before he pushed up and walked over to the mantel, staring into the fire. “Mags,” I croaked, sitting up, wanting to go to him.

“Don’t you fuckin’ move,” he growled, looking at me over his shoulder, a shadow hanging over him now.

“I just—”

“You need to rest,” he barked, making me jump. “You coming in here to check on me is the last thing you should be doing. I told you I would take care of you and that’s—"

“You didn’t seem too worried when you let everyone else step in,” I snapped to his back as he stood over the fire, his head bent, hand braced on the mantel. I clutched the edge of the blanket, my bottom lips wobbling. “You just stood off to the side and left me—"

He whirled on me then, pain in his eyes. “You haveno fucking idea,” he growled. “You have no idea therestraintI had to display this afternoon when they wouldn’t leave you thefuckalone. When the girls took you into the bathroom to clean you up, when Denver hovered over you like a fucking hawk, when the cowboys wouldn’t leave you be.” Goosebumps spread across my skin as the unhinged fury in his voice grew. “Theywashedyou. Theyclothedyou. Theywatchedover you. Theycookedfor you. They made youlaugh. They made youcomfortable.They took care of you.”

“I don’t understand—”

My eyes snapped back to him when he roared, “I wanted that, Diana! I needed that! I needed to take care of you. To cleanse you. To put fuckin’ clothes on you. To hold you. To make you laugh. To make you feel safe and comfortable. I needed it more than the air in my lungs, Firefly!”

Instead of sinking back into the cushions, I swung my leg over the sides of the couch, the blanket falling to the floor. “Then why didn’t you—”

“I don’t deserve to take care of the woman I’ve broken,” he all but snarled.

Silence settled over us, our chests heaving, our panted, labored breaths filling the air as the fire continued behind him. That was the reality of it, right? Despite what happened to between Mags and me, the world would go on without us. Our feelings didn’t matter to this world, but what I felt for him was the gravity of mine, holding me down, refusing to let me go.

“You had every right to break me,” I countered.

He jerked back, his brows snapping together. “What the hell did you just say?”

“You heard me,” I said, giving him a pained smile.

He stared at me, falling apart right before my eyes, and there was nothing I could do but sit here and take it. There was a war, endless battles upon battles, raging inside me, my ego verses my heart. Despite the raw need to go to him, to wrap my arms around his neck, and tell him how much I loved him, how worthy he was, how amazing he was—I couldn’t. He didn’t want me to, and until he admitted he did, I had to stand firm. I didn’t want to feel the sting of his rejection again. I didn’t want to feel like I was chasing him.

I wanted to bewanted.

I wanted to be chased.

I wanted him to look at me and tell me everything he said had been a mistake, that he couldn’t live without me.

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