My body sagged when I heard the bedroom door slam shut.
“Want to clue me in?” Jentry asked.
I glanced at him but didn’t respond as I turned to walk back to the sink.
It was the first time he’d spoken directly to me since our run-in late last night, and no matter how much my body ached in protest that I was walking the wrong way—that I needed to go toward him—I didn’t want to face him.
Not after the things he’d said to me the night before. Not after being humiliated in front of him by Declan. Besides, I didn’t even know the answer to his question.
I’d just reached for the plate Taylor had put in the sink when I heard the same bedroom door fling open, and seconds later Declan came storming through the house and out onto the back porch.
Where his parents still were.
“Oh no,” I breathed. My stomach fell and I rushed through the kitchen to stop him, but Jentry wrapped his arms around me to stop me. “No, let go!”
Jentry’s voice was calm and sure. “Let him do this.”
“But it’s nothing. It’s just dinner!”
“Declan doesn’t get mad. I don’t know what’s been going on between you and Mom, but if it’s gotten to this point, then he needs to do this.”
“Nothing. There’s nothing going on.” I pushed against Jentry’s chest but quickly gave up as the short burst of adrenaline left me. “I don’t want this,” I said softly.
“What?”
I looked into Jentry’s dark eyes, and for a second I was in a dark room again. I wanted it—I wanted that room, I wanted that night. The way my breaths deepened and my fingers curled against his chest in that one second proved that I would never be able to get away from that night or this wanting.
Declan. My hands flattened against his chest, and I shoved. “What do you mean, what?”
“You said you don’t want this,” he reminded me, but his dark eyes were still piercing mine, and though I was shouting Declan’s name in my head, the small space between Jentry and me came alive, and slowly got smaller.
“I don’t,” I agreed, the words sounding like a lie.
Jentry’s brows pinched together for a few moments before relaxing as his eyes dipped to my mouth. “What are we talking about, Aurora?”
I wasn’t sure anymore. All I knew was this, this energy that flowed between us, and the memories of us together—the ones that begged to be repeated—that couldn’t. I shook my head slowly. “I can’t do this. I can’t be near you. I’m with him, Jentry.”
One arm released me, only for his fingers to trail from my jaw to my throat in a slow, torturous dance across my skin.
I trembled beneath his touch and exhaled breathily, a plea for more from him—anything—on my lips. One touch and I was already quickly losing all control to him, and God I wanted to.
“You were mine first,” he murmured gravelly. His head dropped toward mine as he tilted mine back with his hand twisted in my hair almost painfully.
Hard and soft, everything I’d been cravi—Declan, Declan, Declan! “I was never yours,” I whispered just before his lips could touch mine.
Jentry’s features hardened, and this time when I pushed, he didn’t try to keep me there. He ran his hands over his face and took a few steps away from me until he bumped into a wall. When he dropped his hands and opened his eyes, the indecision I felt coursing through my own body was playing out on his face.
Guilt for what we’d done and what I still felt. Love for the man outside. And a soul-deep longing for the one in front of me.
“A night?” I asked, bringing up our conversation from last night.
His dark eyes flashed. “You and I both know it wasn’t just a night, Aurora. We knew it then, too. And that one night with you will never be enough.”
Never . . . “But it has to be,” I whispered, and turned to escape his stare though my soul screamed for more of his touch.
I jerked farther away from Jentry when the back door opened, and looked up to watch Declan walk in. I focused on him and the way my heart fell into a familiar flutter when I looked at him, and tried to rein in everything that was pouring from me, and everything that I knew I couldn’t feel anymore.
Shouldn’t.
Because it wasn’t for the man I was staring at, and although I shied from the realization, I knew I was incapable of ever feeling something as strong as this for anyone else. And no matter how hard I’d tried, the emotions that were spiraling through me could never be forced to fit my relationship with Declan. Not when they’d been created from another man’s touch.
“What exactly did Mom say?” Declan asked as he closed the distance between us. He stopped on the other side of the counter and folded his arms over his chest, exhaustion etched in the set of his face and his stance.
My shoulders sank. “I don’t want to go over—”
His eyes slid shut and he mumbled, “Please, Rorie, don’t do this right now. I need to know exactly how she said it in that conversation.”
I was shaking my head and kicking myself for ever saying anything in the first place. “Decl—”
“Rorie,” he pleaded again.
I chewed on my bottom lip, and finally told him: “She just kept saying that family time was so important, and that some people should understand that. That it was for family, and family dinners, and that some people should consider that some families have been separated for a while and haven’t been able to have family dinners. It wasn’t one conversation; she just kept dropping hints.”
“Mom said—” Declan began, then stopped and shook his head, like he wasn’t sure if he should continue or not. “Mom admitted to saying something close to that, and said that it was in response to you saying you didn’t think Jentry should go to the family dinner tonight.”
“What? No!” I dared a glance to Jentry’s unreadable expression before looking back at Declan. “I wouldn’t . . . why would I even say something like that? I didn’t even think of it as a family dinner until your mom kept saying it! And why would I think Taylor and I would be allowed to one, but not your brother?”
“I don’t know, Rorie. Did you ever say anything about Jentry when you were talking to her?”
I thought for a few seconds as my head shook. “No!”
Jentry folded his arms over his chest as he watched Declan for more to his explanation, but Declan just sighed. His body looked weighed down.
After a few moments, Declan asked, “Is it possible that you both thought the other was talking about something else?”
My heart sank when I realized that he didn’t believe me. The small distance he’d put between us in this conversation suddenly felt immense and significant. As much as I wanted to defend myself, I didn’t know how to anymore. I’d felt humiliated before, but this was worse.
“Yeah,” I said quietly. “Of course. I was, um, I was also talking to Taylor, so I was distracted. I probably just heard her wrong.”
Declan only nodded in acknowledgment as I took a step. And another. And then another. Each step steadier than the last until I was walking from the kitchen toward the room Taylor was staying in. But when I heard her talking behind the closed door of her room, I turned back around and walked to the front door, and slipped out of the house.
Jentry
“Shit.” Declan groaned and dragged his hands through his hair when the front door shut.
“Wow,” I said with a huff.
“Don’t,” he warned as he dropped his face into his hand. “Rorie will do anything as long as it makes Mom happy, and one of these days it’s gonna make me lose my damn mind. And then Mom walked in on us the day we moved in together, and now half the time she pretends Rorie isn’t even there.”
I kept my face blank though jealousy and my irritation with him were making it hard to remain calm. “Do you believe Mom?”
He exhaled heavily and let the hand covering his face drop. “I don’t know, man. Mom seemed really surprised and upset when I confronted her.”
I nodded in understanding. Mom was a horrible liar. But what Mom had said didn’t make sense, and there was no mistaking the shock or hurt that radiated from Aurora when she realized that Declan didn’t believe her. My tone dropped dangerously low when I said, “So you think Rorie would say that shit about me.”
“No, did you not hear me? If she tries so damn hard to get Mom’s approval, she wouldn’t do anything to piss her off. Besides, she’s too nice to say something like that.”
I gave him a few seconds to see if he would continue. When he didn’t, I asked, “I heard you, but did you hear you? You more or less told your girl that whatever is going on between her and Mom is her fault.” My girl. My girl.
He tensed, and for a second I wondered if I’d said that out loud until Declan shook his head. “No, I didn’t.”
“And fuck whatever’s happening between her and Mom,” I continued. “You were rude as shit to Rorie, and that was long before you let her know that you were taking Mom’s word over hers.”
He threw his arms out to the side and yelled, “What the hell are you talking about? I never said anything about believing Mom over her!”
My chest moved with a silent laugh, and my eyebrows rose. “You implied it. The entire time you sounded like you were accusing Rorie of something, and then came up with the bullshit of their miscommunicating. And you and I both know what Mom’s saying happened doesn’t make sense.” I pushed away from the wall I was up against and paused after taking a step away. “You can’t stop talking about how much you love her, but you sure as shit don’t treat her like it.” My hands clenched into fists, but I forced myself to walk away. I knew if I stayed I would let him know exactly why he didn’t deserve her.
Aurora
“Rorie . . .”
My heart took off in a familiar fluttering pattern at the sound of my name, but my hurt and embarrassment kept me from turning to look at him, and kept me on my path. I didn’t know where I was going. I just needed to walk.
“Rorie, wait,” Declan begged, his voice closer now. After another second, his hand clasped around my arm and pulled me around so I was facing him.
“What, Declan?” I tried to snap at him, but my voice came out as a plea. “What else do you want to tell me that you’ve been keeping from me?”
His face flashed with regret. “Rorie . . .”
“I don’t want to do this,” I said immediately.
He hesitated, and a harsh breath left him as his expression drained.
“I don’t want to be constantly trying to get your mom to notice me or approve of the way our apartment looks or the way we live. And now to know how you feel about it, and to find out like that!” I cried, and gestured toward the beach house.
“What I said came out wrong,” he said. “Came out so wrong. I’m still a little pissed over what I found out last night, and I’m frustrated with my mom and was trying to figure out what actually happened, and I let it all get to me. I’m sorry I hurt you, I’m sorry I yelled at you, and I’m sorry if it seemed like I was siding with my mom over you. Rorie, you have to know that I would choose you every time.”
“But I don’t want that,” I nearly yelled. “I would never want you to have to choose one of us over the other! I don’t want you to ever fight with your family because of me.”
“I know you don’t,” he said calmly, and wove one of his hands into my hair. “And I don’t want to fight with you. I’m sorry for what I said. I’m sorry I let what annoyed me build up until I was an asshole to you. Babe, clean all day. Decorate over and over again until you think you have it right, I don’t care. Just as long as you’re cleaning and decorating our place. And no matter what I might say or fights we might get in, know that I love you.”
My breath caught as his mouth crashed down onto mine.
I tried to throw myself into that kiss.
I tried to feel Declan’s hair beneath my fingers.
I tried to know who I was kissing.
I tried to force my heart into a familiar cadence.
While everything in me called to a guy waiting in the house just feet from where we stood, those things felt impossible.
8
Present Day
Aurora
I drummed my fingers on the side of my mug the morning after Jentry had moved back to Wake Forest, and into mine and Declan’s apartment, and narrowed my eyes at the mountain of things just outside the hallway leading to my guestroom. Linda, I thought for the hundredth time this morning with a frustrated sigh.
I’d been sitting at the kitchen table trying to read for a while before I went into work, but my book had long been forgotten as the pile of things continued to capture my attention, and my anger had built. And I had no doubt where the stuff had come from. Placed neatly on top of where I’d found the catastrophic pile had been a picture of Jentry and Declan—one I’d asked for months ago. I’d been cursing Linda ever since.
It bothered me more than I cared to admit that she was coming over to our place when we weren’t there. I wondered briefly what all she’d snooped through, and a grin tugged at my mouth at the thought of having a drawer full of sex toys for her to find. Maybe I’d have to invest in some, if only to shock her.
My head snapped up as soon as I heard the guest room door open, and I quickly moved back into the kitchen so it wouldn’t look like I’d been waiting for Jentry to wake. Because I hadn’t . . . not really. I hadn’t been able to sleep knowing he was there, and had been up and ready for the day for hours. And while I was ready to get the pile of crap into his room, I wasn’t ready to see him.
“Building a shrine?”
I automatically glanced up from where I was now sitting at the kitchen table, and all thoughts of his question fled my mind when I found him walking toward me, shirtless.
Despite how hard I tried to look away, my eyes continued to dance over his half-naked body on their own accord. Memories warmed me as I looked over a body I had learned so well over the course of only a few hours, and one that had changed since I’d seen it this way.
It was thicker, more muscular. My own body ached to feel his arms wrapped possessively around me again—as if I’d been missing a crucial piece of me all this time—as my eyes lingered on the corded muscles in his arms before traveling back to his broad chest and down his muscled stomach. Jentry was tall and had a lean, almost sleek look to his body. Like he could destroy you, but was still light on his feet. A fighter’s body, with the calm, calculating mind of a sniper—as I knew Jentry had been in the Marine Corps.
Strength, trouble, hard, and soft. Everything I remembered of him from our first night and that weekend at the coast, and now he was so close after only haunting my mind for all this time. It made something inside me stir, and my fingers twitched with the need to touch him.
Unable to stop myself, I looked into his dark eyes and found them locked on mine. So many of the same emotions from last night were there. Pain, need, sorrow, passion . . .
Words didn’t need to be spoken between us to know what the other felt, what the other needed. They never had. Our silence said more than our words ever could.
“Gift from Linda,” I mumbled, and reached for my mug again. I froze with it halfway to my mouth when I saw Jentry’s expression fall as he looked back at the pile.
If I hadn’t been watching him so intently, I would’ve missed it. Before I could ask what was wrong, his mouth curved up in a withdrawn smile.
“Funny. This is something I’d bet she would have done if I’d refused to move back home, but she seemed fine with me being here last night.”
I huffed and mumbled, “That might be an understatement,” into my mug, then took a sip. When Jentry gave me a confused look, I just shook my head.
“What is?” he asked, not willing to drop it that easily.
“Nothing. Really.” I pushed the chair out and stood, but didn’t move away from the table yet. “I know there isn’t a lot of space in the guest room, but just put eve
rything in there for now, and we’ll figure out what to do with all of it later.”
Jentry laughed and gave me a sarcastic look. “You mean between all the boxes of books?”
It took a second for his words to register, but when they did, my body stiffened. “The what?”
“All the boxes that were piled on the bed.” He said each word slowly, drawing them out so it sounded like a question. “They were overflowing with books.”
I clumsily set the mug down and was rushing from the kitchen toward the guest room before he’d finished speaking, ignoring my name on his lips as I ran past him. I flung open the door and was immediately hit with Jentry’s intoxicating scent—but just as soon as I registered the warm spice that I’d thought of and missed, my stomach dropped as the rest of the room came into focus.
The week after Declan and I had moved in, I’d used my credit card for more than I cared to admit to in order to decorate each room in our apartment in a way that I’d hoped would impress Linda.
Since that was during the time she was mostly ignoring me, I wasn’t sure that it had.
Not that that mattered now. Because there was no bedding or pillows on the bed, or anywhere to be seen. No curtains. No lamp on the nightstand. Everything was gone. An olive green duffle bag was in the corner of the room. And boxes upon boxes crammed full of books that hadn’t been there just yesterday afternoon. My boxes. My books. All had been put away that same week I’d spent charging up my card and decorating.
Linda, I thought, and forced down the large lump in my throat. “You have got to be kidding me,” I gritted out.
I quickly blinked back the tears that gathered in my eyes when I heard footsteps coming down the hall, and hurried to pick up one of my boxes.