What am I doing? This right here was the reason why she hated relationships—the wondering, the worrying, the whys. They were friends, nothing more. A hard jolt of anguish constricted her chest. Damn him for waking her heart and threading himself into it so seamlessly.
Dropping the shirt, she went back to her bed, popped the pills into her mouth, and washed them down with water. As she lay there staring into the dark, letting lethargy drag her under, she raised her heart’s barrier back up, brick by excruciatingly heavy brick. She didn’t need the headache, didn’t need his affection, his devotion, his drugging kisses, the feel of his strong arms wrapped around her.
Ugh.
Chapter Twenty-three
“Hey, sleepyhead.”
Gavin set the breakfast tray on the ottoman and raised the blinds. “Hope you’re hungry. I made my five-star French toast.”
She squinted at the burst of sunlight that lit up her corneas, turning away from its brilliant flare. Her eyes fluttered open and zeroed in on the bouquet of mixed flowers in the glass vase that he’d set on the nightstand.
He knew he should have let her sleep, but he’d missed her during those hours spent with Dylan.
The way he’d left things with her last evening, he’d hoped the breakfast and the flowers would soften her mood.
“I wasn’t sure what flower was your favorite, so I got—”
“A little of everything,” she said with a soft smile as she eased upright, and he fluffed up the pillows at her back. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”
“Anything in the world for you, know that.”
She sent him a peculiar look, unreadable.
Out of a simple need to touch her, he took her hand and pressed a kiss into her palm. “When you taste my French toast, you’ll say I belong on that show, Chopped.”
“That good, huh?”
“You’ll see.” He brought the tray over and drizzled warm syrup over the fluffy stack. Slicing off a corner, he fed it to her. “Your verdict, madam?”
She chewed, and a smile creased the corners of her mouth. “Very good.”
“Believe that.” He grinned.
As she cut off a small portion and dipped it into the syrup puddling upon the plate, she asked, “How was last night? You boys have a good time? I guess Lucas couldn’t handle the late night.” Her head came up from her breakfast, her stare upon him as tight as a trapeze wire.
Gavin winced a little, though the barrage of questions were anticipated. That said, her sun-warm smile had given him false hope.
“It was cool, and what do you mean?”
“Bailey texted to let me know she’d made it home. She said Lucas was in bed. It was around 11:30 p.m.”
“Yeah.” He wasn’t certain what time Lucas left Sean’s place, since he himself had only hung around for about thirty minutes. And he did end up at a bar, just not with his boys. Fucking Dylan had gotten the pick-up time wrong. They’d left the bar and had to damn near break the sound barrier to get to the drop that ended up being a good two-hour drive away.
The bar. Deidre surfaced into Gavin’s thoughts, and just as easily, he erased her. And he was smart to toss the napkin with her number written on it the minute he’d exited.
A goddamn envelope. Dylan needed back up for that? It had been the only item retrieved. If Gavin didn’t know better, he would swear his pop was fucking with him in this whole debt owed bullshit.
“So, you and the guys just hung at a bar all night?” She shook her head with a dismissing wave of her hand. “You know what, forget the question. What you do is not my business. I’ve been thinking. I should go stay with Bailey. I can get out of your way, let you have your bedroom back, your home . . . your life.”
Her eyes were flat, yet acutely unyielding as the chill of those words struck like rough stones.
Maybe it was the bright sunny morning or the sweet fragrance of honeysuckle to her left, though Gavin sensed it, she didn’t let her irritation with him show in her tone. That made it worse.
“You’re not in my way, and I told you that this room is yours. I don’t want you to go. Will you stay?” he rushed out, fear of her leaving welling up tight in his throat. She didn’t respond as she concentrated on eating her breakfast. “Sie-Sie, sweetness, I want you to stay. Will you?” No reply. He sighed deeply to relieve the constricting pressure in his chest. “I’ll go clean up my mess in the kitchen and then return to help you dress.”
“I can take care of it myself. Thanks.”
“Sienna . . . ” The urge to tell her the truth, come clean about it all rode his conscious hard, but now definitely wasn’t the time. “Are you sure?”
“Very sure. Thanks for the breakfast. It’s delicious.” Her stare was cold, contrary to her warm tone.
As he left the room, he thought maybe this was how it should be between them. Who was he to think he could start something long-term with a woman like her? She was sweet and good, not meant for someone like him.
Last night, as he’d sat with Dylan in the booth of that piece of shit bar, and as they’d driven out in the middle of fucking Nowhere, Virginia to the pick up, he realized that he couldn’t drag her down into his family’s world, especially after learning about Cailin. He’d seen the ugly ways the Kavanaghs played. He needed to keep Sienna away from that vicious madness.
Seeing her in that hospital after what Dale had done to her, his innate need to fight back ruled his actions. It also created the mess he was now knee deep in with his father. He thought about it all as he loaded the dishwasher, then wiped down the countertop. He’d acted on impulse. Stupid of him.
The rest of the day, they hardly spoke, not for his lack of trying. Her responses were choppy and tepid to just about everything he’d said.
The next day was the same. Even during their visit to the doctor for her check-up, she remained distant with him.
By the end of day three, he’d gotten the message. Though she hadn’t packed up and left, she’d removed herself from him in every other way possible. She showered on her own and quickly covered up if he came into the room, prepared her own meals, and did her best not to depend on him. She’d essentially reverted their relationship back to square one. Like now, she sat up in bed with her legs slightly elevated upon pillows beneath her knees, and he reclined in the chair, stretched out with his feet propped upon the ottoman. Distance definitively set, they watched a detective show she said was called Bones. He’d had to ask because she hadn’t volunteered. No more cuddling and sharing between them.
With arms folded across his chest, trying not to appear as unsettled as he felt, Gavin gave a look over at the bed. Her brows were pinched in concentration as her eyes sat transfixed on the decomposed corpse on the TV screen.
Following her shower earlier—foregoing his help again—she’d gone without the bandage on her face. There was a slight pucker around the wound above her brow, but the swelling at her left temple had diminished.
Watching her chew her bottom lip, his gaze dipped there, recalling the petal softness and the sweet taste of her warm tongue. His attention moved lower. Dressed for bed in a white cotton tank top that was all but see-through, the imprint of her dark areolas and pearled nipples punctuated the fabric. He licked his lips. He could feast on those succulent nipples for hours and never get enough. That got him thinking about her plump, juicy clit that was scarcely gift wrapped in those delicate pale pink panties. His dick pulsed in his sweats. Fucking madness! Abruptly, he got up, and she finally looked at him. She’d been avoiding that, too.
“I think I’ll call it a night.” His eyes shifted to the empty space in the bed beside her, and she met his expectant look before taking a glance at the clock to her left. It was barely eight-thirty.
“Kind of early,” she said.
He’d tortured himself long enough. “Yes, I guess. Is there anything I can get you before I turn in? You haven’t taken your meds for a couple of days.” Again, his gaze drifted briefly to the empty, cool space beside h
er warm, lithe body.
“I don’t need the pills. It doesn’t hurt as much anymore when I breathe deeply.”
“Glad to hear it.” Awkward silence.
Her palm brushed across the vacant area beside her, and his eyes locked in on the movement. “Would you like—” The buzz of his cell in the pocket of his sweats interrupted their first conversation in days. She gave a glance over to the nightstand again, undoubtedly noting the time, then back at him. “Aren’t you going to get that?” The gruffness in her tone wasn’t lost on him.
“No. What were you about to say?” he asked as the buzzing continued.
“Nothing. Good night.” Her eyes cold now, she fixed her attention back on the TV.
Damn it. Gavin closed the door behind him and yanked out the phone from his pocket. Dylan. Presuming the reason for the call, it went unanswered.
In bed, scenarios danced in his head of what Sienna may have asked, each resulting in him joining her in bed and them making love in every position he could conjure up. He yearned to wrap himself around her, immerse himself in her scent, her comforting warmth. Restless minutes passed as he lay with images of their joined bodies locked tight in an endless caress.
His cell rang again. Dylan. He thought to ignore it but figured the guy would only hit redial.
“Yeah, what?” Gavin answered.
“We need to head out.”
Though he’d expected it, he muttered a curse. “How far out this time?”
“From where I am in Woodbridge, it’s about an hour. Add an additional hour for you, so get moving. Meet me at my place.”
Gavin got out of bed and went to his closet. As he riffled through his shirts, he asked, “Did you confirm the time? Don’t have me wasting minutes at some shitty-ass bar.”
“It’s been confirmed. Pop’s really anxious about this one for some reason.”
“Is it another envelope?” Gavin dragged on a pair of dark-blue denims. When silence filled the line, he realized why. Damn, how he hated all this cryptic bullshit.
“Are you on your way?”
“Shit, dude, you just called.” He balanced the phone between his chin and shoulder to slip on his socks.
“Actually, I called you fifteen minutes ago. Stop fucking dodging my calls.”
“Yeah, yeah, if you want me to be on my way, you’ll stop yammering and let me get dressed.” The line abruptly disconnected. Gavin pulled on a black T-shirt and dragged his lightweight, black leather jacket off the hanger, then grabbed his black Lugged boots. As he sat on the edge of the bed to slip them on and lace up, he tried to think of what to say to Sienna about where he was headed. You could tell her the truth. She’d hardly spoken to him for the past several days. The truth right now would surely not work well in his favor. When will it ever?
He left the room and went to her. Taking a bracing breath, giving a soft tap on the door, he opened it, and stood within the frame. Still situated upright in bed, she’d gotten beneath the covers. Her stare did a slow slide down his frame, then keen eyes lifted, viper-locking with his, her expression crinkling with bemusement. That look was asking, no, demanding an explanation that he was unable to give.
Swallowing deep did little to work the knot down his throat. “Hey, I’m going to step out for bit.” His gaze dipped briefly to the floor. “I can’t sleep.” Looking at her again, her unblinking stare was focused on him. “Is there anything I can get you before I leave?” No words, just a light shake of her head. “Uh, okay. Try and rest. Good night.” A nod. He shut the door, leaned back against it, and closed his eyes. Shit. Her suspicious look had been damn hard to stomach. He just had to get through two more assignments, then no more lies. As he headed out, he thought about Dax’s words: lying by omission is still lying.
Shit.
• • •
The moment Sienna heard the entry door clank shut, she snatched her cell phone and called Bailey. After a few rings, the line connected.
“Hey, I was going to call in the morning to check on you. Is everything okay?”
“Gavin is seeing someone. I’m sure of it now.”
“Sie, hold on a minute.”
Sienna listened to Bailey say, “Babe, I’m going to take this downstairs. No, don’t press pause. You can continue watching. I’ve already seen this one.”
A short moment later, she came back on the line. “Okay, I’m back.”
“Hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”
“No, I’m trying to get Lucas caught up on House of Cards. It’s like he’s been living in a cave. He hasn’t seen much of anything. So, what makes you so sure Gavin is seeing someone?”
“He received a call, and just as before, he came in here looking like sex walking, then left the apartment.”
Bailey gasped. “Are you kidding me! He left you alone again?”
“Pish, I’m feeling much better. I’m hardly experiencing any discomfort. Did you hear the most important part of what I said? Gavin is seeing someone else.”
“You said, someone else as if to say you and Gavin are a couple. You told me you two were just friends.”
Sienna’s eyes closed briefly, then she stared up at the vaulted ceiling; no sense in denying it. “Fine, I like him. I more than like him, okay, are you happy now?” Getting a chortle, she sighed long and slid down, stretching out beneath the covers. “It’s not funny. We’re not officially a couple, but I thought we were headed there. All it takes is a call from whoever this woman is, and he rushes off to her. Telling me he couldn’t sleep, that he needed to step out for a bit. Bullshit. You know how I know it’s a lie?”
“How do you know?”
Sienna could hear light chomping in her ear. “What are you eating?”
“Sorry, I’m in the kitchen. I got hungry. It’s sweet gherkins and string cheese. Now, how do you know he’s seeing someone?”
Pregnancy 101. Sienna would cut her friend some slack in getting the munchies. “I know because he does this thing where he looks down when he’s talking . . . when he’s about to tell a lie. I’m so doggone pissed with myself for allowing my feelings to latch onto him like some weak little, lovestruck teenager,” she ranted in aggravation. “I blame him. I’m telling you, it’s like those Lifetime movies—rich guy takes you in, cares for you, gets you to feel safe, makes you breakfast in bed, gives you flowers—”
“He gave you flowers? Aw, that’s so sweet.”
Sienna rolled her eyes. “Bails, geez, this is a 911 call,” she grumbled in growing frustration and blinked rapidly at the sudden, unexpected tears that stung the back of her eyes. “I really need my friend right now. Stay focused. I don’t know what to do. That pisses me off the most. I always know what to do.”
“Sorry, I’m focused. Have you talked to him about it or have you done what you always do when you think a man has stabbed you in the back—assume the worse, then clam up tight until he can’t take the dismissal from you any longer, so he kicks himself to the curb?”
She huffed. “I don’t do that.”
“Sweetie, you do, and stop it.” It was a soft, yet firm chiding. “If you more than like him, which I must say, that’s freaking awesome,” she shrieked lightly, then quickly grew serious, “come out and ask him if he’s seeing someone.”
An anxious knot curled tight in Sienna’s stomach at the thought, because there was a part of her that had already claimed him as hers. Damn you, Gavin Crane. This was the very reason she never let a guy have this deep of a level of control over her feelings. “What if he admits to it?”
“Then you’ll do well to put a stiff boot to his butt. I will say that I think you’re jumping the gun on this one, though. Lucas said Gavin is really into you, that he’s never seen him this crazy about a woman before. I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.”
Sienna sat up, hopeful. “He did? Did Lucas use the word crazy? Bails, don’t sugarcoat it. I need to know.”
“Yes, he said the word crazy. Now relax about it all.”
She eased
back down under the covers. “I’ll let you get back to your hubby and movie night. Don’t tell Lucas what I said.”
Bailey sucked her teeth. “Of course not. As if you needed to tell me that. Call if you need me. Hugs.”
“Hugs.” Sienna ended the call. She would ask Gavin, put it all out there. Heck yes, she would. If his answer was contrary to what Bailey stated, she’d accept it, and her life would go on . . . but with a chunk of my heart missing.
Restless hours passed as she tried to quiet her mind in between quick glances at the clock. Doing her best to wait up for him, sometime around midnight, exhaustion finally prevailed.
Chapter Twenty-four
Gavin stepped into the cool, dark space of his apartment and tugged off his boots just inside the door. Remnants of mud and gravel covered the thick soles. The sudden pelting downpour had done a number on his leather jacket.
Sliding his fingers through his rain-soaked hair, a cool breeze from the kick-start of the air condition feathered across his damp clothes as he crossed the space in his socks and padded down the hall to Sienna’s room. He slid the wall switch up a tad in the hall to allow the low recessed light to filter in. She lay sprawled out on her back in the middle of the bed. Damn, how he wanted to stretch out next to her, brush up close against her soft skin, rest contently within her comforting warmth. With a long sigh, doing his best not to disturb her, he closed the door, turned off the light, and went to the bathroom.
After a quick, hot shower, he slipped on a pair of black cotton boxers and climbed in bed. Weariness pulled him under with ease.
When he roused awake not from a nightmare, but from a desperate yearning to hold Sienna, instinctively, he reached out across the bed. Cool sheets filled his palm. Nothing new. It hadn’t been the first time.
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