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“Why were you cooking for the both of you?” I hate the way the light has gone out of her gaze. I wince. “Shit, I’m sorry—”
“It’s okay.” But her eyes well up. “Told you, Mom’s an alcoholic. She’s always drunk, plus she has crap taste in men. They beat her up, she drinks until she passes out…and I’ve taken care of her the best I could, but I can’t do it anymore.”
Jesus. This is fucked up, and the last thing I wanted was to make her cry.
“Listen…” I rub the back of my neck. “Why don’t we get out of here, go for a drink?”
“Yeah. Okay.” She wipes angrily at her eyes. “God, what am I gonna do?”
Fuck. Where her smile fired me up, and her laughter almost broke me down, her tears make me reach for her, because pain… Well, that’s something I understand.
Pain made me who I am. It defines my life.
“Come on,” I say, throw some money on the table and tug her to her feet. “Let’s walk.”
Chapter Nine
Megan
He has his arm around me, and I let him lead me out of the restaurant, walking blindly into the night. Embarrassment burns through me, warms my neck. Can’t believe I cried again in front of him.
But Rafe’s strength, his protectiveness, is stripping me bare. I never felt safe with my mom and her string of abusive boyfriends, or even after I ran away. Never felt like a child. I was always the adult of the house, taking care of mom when she was drunk and passed out on the couch, or after a guy beat her up and left. Nobody ever took care of me.
Until Rafe.
I mean, Zane has been a true friend. He found me the apartment I’m sharing with Raylin—was sharing with Raylin, and remembering this makes new tears well up in my eyes—and helped me find a job. But Rafe has been checking on me, making sure I’m all right. His arm around me feels like a wall against the craziness of the world.
As if sensing my thoughts, he drags me up against his side, muscles flexing in his arm. “All right?” he asks.
“Yeah.” The cold air is freezing the tears on my cheeks. I can’t seem to stop them from falling tonight.
When I look up into his face, though, he doesn’t look disgusted, angry, or bored. He looks concerned.
“You don’t seem fine. Meg…” He stops, turns to face me, dips his chin to look into my eyes. “How can I make you smile?”
That has to be the sweetest thing a guy has said to me. “I don’t know.” I duck my head.
“There has to be a way.” His amber eyes are serious, dark smudges underneath them telling me he doesn’t sleep well, but his hands sliding from my waist to my hips distract me. “What do you really want tonight?”
Oh God. I want to erase the past, I want not to worry about the future, about the money for the rent and whether there’s a stalker after me. I want to go to college and study, be something one day.
But above all… Christ, above all I want to keep this feeling I get when I’m with Rafe. The security, the warmth, the ease—but also the excitement, the burn, the need and hunger for him.
“Anything?” I whisper.
His head tilts to the side, and one corner of his mouth tips up. “If I can give it to you, yeah. Tell me.”
“Careful what you promise. What if I ask you to buy me a car? Or to take me to a really expensive restaurant?”
“Sure. Let me just go quickly and sell everything I own. I’ll be right back with the cash.”
I snort softly. “Hurry up, then. A Porsche would be nice, by the way.”
He pulls me against him, and his hardness is hot like a brand iron against my side. It feels as if he’s aroused all the time. “If it will make you smile…”
Oh shucks. “Why do you care about making me smile?”
“Because.” His head dips lower, his mouth inches from mine. “You have the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen.”
