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Exactly what I need on a day like today, after a week of so much tension in the house, I could cut it with a knife—all without even seeing the beauty causing me so much trouble.
Bursting out from beneath the surface, I shift to float on my back and close my eyes, trying to let my frustration melt away by concentrating on the juxtaposition of the cold water surrounding me and the sun beating down on my face and the front of my body.
My mind drifts away from the current situation to the place I so rarely find, where I can pretend I’m not stuck in this life, in this place, that I’m not cursed forever by my family name and what I’ve done to advance it.
Leaves rustle in the trees along the shoreline, but I don’t bother opening my eyes to look to see who it is. Wildlife often comes to the river that feeds the lake and gathers near the water here, and none of them are spooked by my presence anymore. If anything, one of the friendlier animals may have heard me in the glade and followed me down to check out what’s happening.
They have never been my enemy, nor I theirs.
The trophies that line the walls of the house belong to the man who molded me into who and what I am now—the one who forced me to cross so many lines I never thought I would that I lost all sense of what was right or wrong for years.
A large branch snaps, and I jerk my eyes open and turn my head toward the sound—because only a human causes that.
Callista stands at the edge of the tree line in skin-hugging yoga pants and a loose T-shirt that falls off one shoulder, her feet tucked into the shoes I left for her that first day. The formerly white slip-ons are now stained after the trek down here from the house, but she doesn’t seem concerned about that.
Her eyes zero in on me the same way mine rake over her.
So fucking beautiful.
Seven days have passed since I last laid eyes on her, and somehow, her beauty has only grown in that time. It’s impossible to tear my gaze away from her flowing hair, lush curves, and exposed peachy skin.
I’m so fixated on drinking her in that it takes a moment for me to realize why she’s staring so intently.
Shit.
I quickly drop myself under the water.
But it’s too late.
Callista Fox has gotten more than an eyeful, and the way color rises in her cheeks tells me she liked what she saw.
Treading water, I watch her slowly approach the shore. “What are you doing out here?”
I’ve warned her to stay in the house, that there are threats in the forest even I can’t protect her from, but she hasn’t listened to a single thing I’ve told her since she got her, so it shouldn’t surprise me that she didn’t when it comes to this.
She stops at the edge of the water, eyes still locked on me. “It’s been a week since you brought me to the library…”
I clear my throat. “I know.”
“And you’ve been avoiding me.”
Hell.
I don’t bother responding to that. If I said I wasn’t, it would be a lie and she would only call me out on it. There’s no putting anything past Callista Fox. When she said she saw me the other day, she meant it.
“Why, Weston?”
My heart stutters in my chest at hearing my name—my real one—come from her lips for the first time. “Why did you show me that, gift me something so beautiful, and then hide from me?”
She knows exactly why.
Because whatever this is can’t happen despite what others may want.
Thrusting this woman into my life, forcing her to spend time with me, to live with me in this awful place, to suffer through all the bullshit that comes with it and me, isn’t fair.
I don’t need the complication, and neither does she, no matter how beautiful she is, no matter how much I may want her.
She locks her gaze with mine, waiting for a response that’s never going to come. Then she huffs and grabs the hem of her shirt, tugging it off, up and over her head before I can object, exposing a lacy white bra.
