Her smile gradually widens, pushing her cheek to the side. I turn around, ready to exit through the front door again andend that conversation because I can’t bear the thought of her being with someone else.
I never attend her classes. I should, but I give her space because, for her entire life, she’s been under someone’s watchful eye. She’s a grown woman and deserves a little break. However, if anyone dares to lay a hand on her, I will tear it off and mail it back to them.
I need to calm down.
Everything about her makes me overly emotional, but I have to suppress it as best as I can.
“I have.” Her smoky voice stops me in place, yet the thrill behind it ignites the demon within me. I listen closely as she descends the stairs and paces toward me.
“Oh, yeah?” I spin to face her, flashing a conceited grin. “How good did he make you feel when he slipped himself inside you?”
She halts abruptly, blinking in surprise at me. My eyebrows rise slightly in question while her tiny frame remains frozen against me.
I gaze into her lying eyes. Waiting. Searching. Scanning the specks of light blue and green that spread across her irises. No story shines through about how she felt or what she experienced.
I master the lowest tone and say, “You don’t know because it never happened. But when it does, your eyes will tell a different story.” I twirl a ginger lock around my finger. “For the record, there’s nothing wrong with that.” I linger closely for a moment, then step away.
“I meant you, Asshole,” she says behind me and runs up the stairs.
Shit.
I go for a stroll around the property, then walk to the security room with a headache that refuses to fade. Screens cover thewalls from floor to ceiling in the dimly lit room, and a note rests on the desk.
I immediately recognize her handwriting.
You’re an asshole, but I still want to go for a ride later. Bring some snacks, and I’ll order pizza and garlic bread. Have a great shift, my guardian angel—angel, my ass.
The tired corners of my mouth curve into a smile so broad that it holds my face captive. I swear she was made to make me smile and feel warmth in a way I’ve never experienced before. Her adorable hostility does something to me, and I can’t deny the butterflies I feel in my core every time I see her, but I have to pretend they don’t exist because I need to stay in character.
Only Koy, the head of security, and I are allowed in this room, but she can’t help herself, that little brat. I spend most of my time here when I’m not with her. It’s either that or the private gym. I hardly sleep because there are too many voices in my head and occasional nightmares that I don’t want to remember. I only fall asleep when my body stops functioning. Therefore, sometimes I need to persuade Winona to stay inside and not go out because I’m exhausted, like today. And she’s being a brat as usual, which makes my heart beat wildly and my soul come alive, but under the circumstances fucking pointless.
Don’t accidentally trip over the pad control. I wouldn’t want you to accidentally cancel all the cameras and locks. Trip, you fucker.
I laugh every time I reread the note from a few nights ago. She could have texted me all those things, but she left these sticky notes here instead. Now, I have a drawer with over a hundred of them.
Koy seems as amused as I am, so I know he wouldn’t snitch. Plus, I think he is secretly happy that Winona has someone to spend her time with—someone protective and trustworthy.
As I rummage through the drawer, a red sticky note catches my eye.
My eyebrows furrow.
I’ve never seen it before.
You try to read me, you don’t try to understand me, and I’m at war inside. I see you, but do you see me?
Reading people is how I get by. It’s a force of habit. Her words are like a shot to the heart; the pain is maddening because it feels real, raw, and makes me want to burn the room down for missing it.
When did she leave it here?
And how could she think I don’t see her?
I see her better than anyone.
I see her all the fucking time, and I can’t do anything about it.
At the beginning, I was just her shadow. We chatted sometimes, but after that party, when I took her for a ride, I let her in more and more.
After the door incident, I considered crossing a line but decided against it.