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Of course, I remember, even though I wish I didn’t. I thought when you got drunk, you didn’t remember the humiliating things you said or did, but I would never get that lucky.
I quickly rush across my cold floors before he can see the flames rushing up my chest. “I thought you left,” I mutter. After grabbing a glass from the cabinet, I turn to the sink and fill it from the tap. I need something to take my mind off his presence. I hate how nervous he makes me, though it’s not really nerves. It’s this stupid twisting in my stomach that I desperately need to go away. “W-why are you still here?”
“I wasn’t leaving you like that.” My spine turns to steel as his breath brushes my neck. How did I not hear him coming? A hand lands on either side of me, and goosebumps skitter across my skin.What is he doing?“I administered fluids and vitamins. I stayed in the chair in your room to make sure you didn’t choke on your vomit or break your neck in case you got up.” The words are so clinical and rational, but the way he says them…
I ignore the butterflies taking flight in my stomach, turn, and place my hands on his chest, trying to push him away because I can’t breathe—or rather, I can, but all I’m breathing ishim. He moves a fraction but is still crowding me. My heart somersaults as I swallow and try for stern. “Hydration therapy?Yougave me anIV? Isn’t that a little invasive? And a complete lack of consent.”
Head tilting to the side, he narrows his eyes at me. His jaw shifts, and the annoyance and anger in his eyes become glaring. “You tried to drink the club’s entire vodka and tequila supply last night, and I’m wrong for trying to take care of you? I guess you wanted a hangover from hell.”
“It’s not your job to take care of me.”
He doesn’t seem to appreciate when I say that. The fury swirling in his eyes turns volcanic, and he looks ready to strangle me. But what does he expect? It’s true. I’m not his concern. He washed his hands of me years ago, and I understand it. But it still freaking hurt like hell.
“Of course it’s my job. You’remine.”
What?That doesn’t make sense. Maybe when I was younger I felt like his, but I know he didn’t feel the same. Or at least he didn’tmeanit the same, but the way he said it tears through me, causing me to shudder. “N-no, I’m not.”
He wants to argue. It’s written across his face. Obvious by the tilt of his mouth—if his mouth turns down anymore, he might start baring teeth. “I’m not arguing with you right now. I have other things I want answers to, starting with why in the hell you don’t have any food in this place outside enough Ramen to feed a village? Why are you even buying that shit?”
“I haven’t had time to shop.”
His chest rumbles. I seem to push his buttons, but I don’t understand why. After years away, why does he care again? It’s making my head spin. “Lying comes awfully easy to you now, Sunflower.”
“Don’t pretend you know me.” I snap as anger that hedoesknow me—that he saw straight through my deceit—laps at my frayed nerves. I shove at his chest again, and he allows me to move him. I stalk toward the door and yank it open. “You can see yourself out now.” I wave my hand, gesturing for him to leave.
His left eye twitches and his fists clench at his side. He walks—more like stalks toward me. His fingers grip my jaw, forcing my attention on him. “I’m going to go because you need food, but when I get back, wewilltalk.”
I jerk away as humiliation burns my eyes. “Don’t bother coming back, Graham. I’m not your problem, and I won’t open the door.”
He smirks.Why does he smirk?“See you in fifteen, Sunflower.”
I close the door and drift to the sofa. My head drops into my hands as I fall onto the plush, fluffy cushions, sinking deep into the comfort and wishing it would absorb me.
“Lying comes awfully easy to you now, Sunflower.”
He’s wrong. It doesn’t come easy. Each one tears away another piece of me. I’ve been doing it for so long, I’m surprised I have anything left.
Butwhatwas all of that before? The invasion of my personal space. Theminething. That look… I shiver as I picture those near-black eyes raking over every inch of my body, and I wonder if last night…
No. That didn’t happen. It couldn’t have. He would never do that—any of it. He doesn’t see me sexually or otherwise. I’m letting my imagination get the best of me.
And I’m realizing my subconscious—and body—didn’t get the memo.We don’t have a crush on Graham anymore, dammit.
I’m wallowing in my guilt over lying and over my irrational anger, overthinking every second of our interaction, and almost panicking that I’m falling back into the same toxic delusions with my eyes closed and head resting against the soft cushions when my phone rings. I follow the sound until I find the tiny bag I use as a purse sitting on the console table by the door. My fingers dip inside, wrap around the screaming device, and bring it to my ear without glancing at the screen.
“Hello?” My voice breaks from so much anxiety running through me.
“Just wanted to let you know your dad is on his way, so if you don’t want any awkward dad-stepbrother face-off, make sure you and Mr. Tall, Dark, and Delicious are decent.” Even without seeing her, I can see her good-natured, taunting smirk.
I want to roll my eyes, but my brain is stuck on one part. “Why is Dad coming over?”
“There is some drama involving Blaze he needs to sort, so he’s on his way to his office and said he was going to stop by to drop off your bag you left at the club. Which is…”
“Code for checking up on me,” I finish when she trails off.
“Bingo. Case, I’ve been trying to get him to tell me, but he won’t budge. So doyouwant to fill me in on why Liam has flipped some weird fucking dad switch since Graham showed up? I never say anything about the twice-a-week dates or ask questions when he pulls you to the side, but the tension in him has gotten really high, and it all coincides with your stepbrother’s appearance.”
I sigh as I walk through the apartment to the glass door leading to the terrace. I slide the door open and step out, going to the bright yellow chaise lounge, deciding maybe some sun will ease this strange feeling in my chest. This feeling of… Well, that my world is about to be flipped on its ear. For better or worse is TBD.
