Page 48 of Destroy Me
Shock jolted his heart. “How did you know that?”
As if he needed to ask. The pub had walls of windows across the front. Of course Lyse had found a way to see him.
She took her hand back, curling it against her chest, away from him. Her face turned toward the pillow. Hiding. But her voice was firm this time. “I needed to watch your back.”
And he could accept that. “I know,” he said, pushing her hair back from her face. He needed to see her, read her. Understand her.
“You let her touch you,” she said again.
A grin pulled at his mouth. Was she jealous? Laura had only touched his hand, but Lyse was new to all this. Or maybe not so new. She’d been after watching him while in hiding. Had she watched him before that? He hadn’t been a saint. How many times had she seen him with another woman?
He turned her words over in his mind. The more he considered it, the more he watched her, he realized that the petty bite that usually came with jealousy was missing. This wasn’t jealousy; this was a woman pushing herself to do something she was obviously scared to do. Why?
“You could see us at the bar,” he said, propping his head on his hand, “and yes, she did take my hand. Nothing more.” He brought his mouth to her ear, letting his heat warm her body. “And do you know what I said at that moment?”
He heard Lyse take a breath, but she didn’t release it. Just waited, waited.
“I told her I was taken.”
Her head came up so fast she clipped his chin. Wide eyes pleaded with him to be confirming his words.
“It’s true,” he said, rubbing his chin.
Her gaze dropped to his hand. “Sorry.”
He winked. “I’m tough; I can take it.”
“I know you can.” But her smile was weak. She shifted away from him. “I guess you don’t want… I mean…” Even in the dim light he could see the color wash over her cheeks.
He tipped her chin up until she met his eyes again. “I’m not rejecting you, Lyse.” He had a feeling she’d lived with a lot of that, though how anyone could miss her need for affection, he didn’t know.
You did.
Yes, he’d already established that he’d been an asshole.
“I’m not rejecting you,” he said again. “I just want to make sure this is right for you, not something you’re doing to…because you think you have to.” He let his hand trail over her shoulder to the narrow ridge of her spine. “You’re scared.”
“Of course I’m scared. I’ve never done this before. And you have. A lot.” The words had bite, but before he could address them, Lyse was out of the bed, walking across the small room, then back. Pacing. Her fist dug into her breastbone, rubbing at the scar.
He sat up and scooted to the edge, trying to ignore the way her pale skin gleamed in the darkened room, how her legs looked below the hem of the T-shirt she wore. He did fine; his dick, not so much.
Lyse wasn’t needin’ his words; she was needin’ his ears. So he waited as she paced for a couple of minutes, back and forth, back and forth, before coming to a stop just out of reach. That hand kept rubbing, shouting more loudly than words the emotions churning inside her. He fisted his hands in the blankets, wanting to reach for her but not sure she’d let him touch.
“You know my mother gave me away.”
He took a careful breath. “I know.”
“My foster parents…they were good people. They did so much to get me better. Healthy. They paid so much.” The last word trailed off, and Lyse cleared her throat.
He barely held back from reaching for her.
“I always felt like I had to be the best for them, have the highest grades, be the model daughter. It wasn’t anything they said, but they’d done…so much. I felt like I had to live up to that, make up for it.”
Like she had to be earning their love.
Holy shit. Was she thinking she had to have sex or he wouldn’t be staying with her?
“I was never really normal—the heart thing, the nerd thing,” she said. A little laugh escaped. “I mean, I graduated high school at thirteen. That’s not normal.”
