Unworthy Of You (The Spring Rose Bay Series Book 2)

by K. L. Jessop

“It’s not like that. We’re not... you know, together, together.”

  Are we?

  My chest tightens. I’ve not thought of anything beyond the here and now.

  “Talks shit and in denial. Priceless,” Jack chips in.

  I raise my brows and add, “Coming from the guy that’s yet to admit he wants to fuck his new roommate?”

  “Felicity and I are just friends.” The cut look I receive is enough to tell me I’ve crossed a line: his own line of denial. It won’t be long before he beds the brunette.

  “I’ve fucked many of my friends over the years,” Lucas replies to Jack. “Nothing wrong with keeping it close to home, Jacky-boy.”

  “Hey!” Marcus shouts from across the room. “You better not have put your whore-hands near my Amelia.”

  “Are you crazy?” Lucas answers back. “I swear to God you guys are yet to see that girl angry. She goes from Ginger Spice to full on Ginger snaps in 0-60. The woman saw me coming before I even had chance to introduced myself.”

  A deep rumble of male laughter echoes throughout the room. I finish my beer and head to the kitchen for another. I want to say my tranquil state is through the alcohol and good company, but I know the source of it is the woman that’s currently in our home.

  Our home?

  What the hell am I talking about? She has her own to go back to soon.

  But do I want that?

  I take out my phone from my pocket with a sudden urge to know what she’s doing. Not so long ago I wanted nothing to do with her, now I want to know it all.

  Me: I miss you. What are you doing?

  My grin with her instant reply, as though she’s been waiting for my text.

  Megan: I’m just about to run myself a bath and get naked… and wet… with you in my thoughts.

  My dick stirs in my jeans.

  Me: Such a tease. You’re making me hard.

  Megan: Down boy. Go play with your boyfriends.

  I laugh. I’m about to reply when Lucas enters the kitchen.

  “My sister sending you dirty messages?” He grins, opening the fridge for a beer.

  “Well there’s no point in denying it as she’s likely to tell you anyway, right?”

  “Exactly. I teach her well.” He rests against the island and gulps down his beer. The muscles in his biceps are double the size of mine as tribal tattoos wrap around them. Lucas is a good man. His time here over the summer last year was spent either in the water catching the surf or running around after his ‘blue-eyed girls’: Megan and Amelia. I respect a man for protecting those he loves. I’d do the same in any way I can.

  “It’s good to have you back, man,” I say.

  “It’s good to finally make this place my home. I’m looking forward to enjoying stress free life where I’m not wondering whose next in line to be shot.”

  I raise my brow. He’s mentioned the highs and lows of the bodyguard life before, but he’s never mentioned weapons. I get the feeling Megan is unaware of this too. “Jesus, is it that bad in LA?”

  “Like you wouldn’t believe,” he sighs.

  “I know Megan is happy you’re here. She never stops talking about you.”

  “Like I said, I teach her well,” he grins. “She’s a good girl.”

  “Couldn’t agree more.”

  “Took you a while to realise it though, huh?”

  I’m unsure if it’s a question of a statement. There’s a moment of silence between us before he steps forward to grab my shoulder. The power behind his grip is almost intimidating and his eyes hold mine. “Andrew, I’m only going to say this once so listen very carefully. I like you. You’re a good guy and I consider you as a friend, but hurt my sister and I swear to God, I’ll kick your fucking ass from here to New York and blow off your balls in the process. Under stood?”

  My response is a confirmed nod. I hear him loud and clear and feel his threat through his hand that still squeezing into my shoulder.

  “Good, man.” He smiles, slapping me on the chest. “Now, let’s go sit so I can teach you all the do’s and don’ts when it comes to my little sister. First and foremost, don’t piss her off as she tends to go all bat-shit-crazy.”

  I chuckle. “Yeah, I’ve already witnessed that.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Megan

  I’m not at home having a bath like Andrew thinks. I’m currently walking along Rixton Beach with the sand between my toes, the sky a ray of orange as I watch the sun go down. I’m here because I want to escape from his house. I’m here to try and get a hold of the strong feelings that are currently charging through my body like a spitfire. I never thought it was possible to fall this fast for a man. When Amelia and Marcus meet last summer and develop a whirlwind romance, I thought they were an exception to the rule: a one-time couple that cupid decided to grace with the opportunity of a future filled with happiness and love. I didn’t believe I was good enough for such an encounter. Therefore, I dedicated my nights and weekends to tequila and sex hoping that one day, there may be a slight chance someone would want me. Only one weekend turned into two and two turned into a blur as it quickly became a heartache reminder that I was just a girl that couldn’t fill the empty hole in her heart with another man’s love.

  Then, one night, that heartache I refused to acknowledge turned into a ray of hope when I kissed a beast that made my heart skip a beat. And now I’m so wrapped up in the thought of him, I fear it’s all a dream, that one day I’m going to wake to find that hole is still there and my arms will no longer be in his. Then, I quickly remind myself that I’m Megan Simmons, I’m the girl that likes to fuck, not a girl to fall hard for a man she hardly knows anything about. So, I’ve come to the one place that I can get solace from the uncertainty lying in my stomach.

  Rixton Beach is my favourite, other than Marcus’s private one that is. The place reminds me of holidays here as a child, when Lucas and I use to run full length of the pier with our arms spread out as though we were waiting to take off. That was before adolescence started and Lucas was trying to make eye-contact with all the teenage girls with their short skirts and glitter tattoos.

  It never stopped me coming here, though, when I’d visit with my parents, and the older I got I began to appreciate it more. I’d learn to listen to the waves as they hit the pier. I’d watch the ripples and white horses in the water and fall into a world of just tranquillity and me. Now my thoughts are full of another.

  He’s changing. Waking up beside him this morning with his body pressed against mine almost had me on the brink of tears. I don’t think he has any idea what that meant to me and knowing that it was evident he struggled with it tugged at my heart even more. He did that for me.

  Once back at Andrew’s I kick off my sandals, place my keys into my bag and head to the bathroom. Andrew’s bathtub is pure heaven that stands centre in the tiled room. It’s deep, welcoming and incredibly stylish as bathtubs go. I turn on the water and squeeze in a large amount of strawberry bubble bath to form a white fluffy mountain as the heat from the water fills the tiled room. I’m in two minds whether or not to text Andrew again and tell him to come home, but I don’t. He needs time away from me and the hotel to socialise with friends, our friends. He needs to learn that it’s ok to have a good time and not surround himself in paperwork and isolation.

  After wiping the condensation off the mirror to remove my makeup, I go back into the kitchen and collect a glass from the cupboard. Pouring myself a large wine from his never-ending collection, I return to the bathroom and strip out my clothes. I can’t even read the names of some of these wine bottles. I don’t think Andrew himself can; it’s clear he doesn’t drink it that often as most of the bottles of red are covered in a light dust. It’s merely for decoration.

  My eyes close and my body instantly thanks me as I lower down into the warmth of the water. Bubbles gather high over my body as the water rests at my collarbones and my hair pastes to my skin. I love a deep bath were your entire body is covered. It’s the
only time I don’t have the music on in the background. I like this time to take in the peace and quiet. It’s funny how I still want that when there’s enough peace and quiet in this house on a daily basis that I could bottle it up and sell it on ebay.

  Moments pass as I absorb the stillness. My eyes fall heavy and my cheeks are flushed with the heat from the water. The large glass of wine has made me a little lightheaded. I wash myself in my favourite body wash and pull the plug, lifting myself to stand so the bubbles glide over my skin as I reach for a towel.

  Everything happens so fast.

  My feet slide from under me, throwing me down into the remaining water that’s yet to drain. Pain explodes in my head from where I hit the side of the bath, not having any control over my body as I fall. I try to fight for air but my body is numb to move, I start to panic inwardly. My head is dizzy as water and noise echoes in my ears. A distorted dark shadow emerges above the bubbles and pain rips my shoulder as I finally gasp for breath when cool air hits my face.

  “What are you doing?” Andrew shouts as I splutter out the water I took in, trying to work out my surroundings as my head hammers in agony.

  “I… I just—”

  “What the fuck were you thinking?” His grip on my arms is strong. I try to focus my blurry eyes from the water that runs off my hair. I feel sick.

  “I slipped. It was an accident—”

  “DON’T YOU EVER DO THAT AGAIN!”

  This time Andrew’s voice is thunderous. His jaw locks tight as he seethes out the words. Yelling in my face and shaking me like a rag doll. I don’t understand what’s happening. His eyes are dark and angry with concern mixed with what almost looks like fear. His aggressive look and hurtful shaking sends an unpleasant shiver of terror throughout my body. Tightness in the back of my throat builds with the onslaught of tears that are about to take over. This is not the Andrew I know, and I suddenly feel extremely vulnerable.

  “WHY, MEGAN? WHY?”

  “Andrew, please stop,” I beg as he continues to shake me.

  “YOU STUPID, STUPID GIRL!”

  “STOP YELLING AT ME!” I scream, using all the energy I have left before bursting into tears and wanting nothing more than to run from him, from the pain he is causing me inside and out. From the pain of why this gentle man has quickly become so aggressive towards me.

  In a split second, the shaking stops and I’m pinned against him. His arms hold me tight as his hand fists my hair.

  “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” His whispers come out in a rush against my ear, repeating the same words over and over in such desperation for my forgiveness as he locks me against his solid frame. Both our hearts are pounding fast as my body continues to erupt with tears and my chest convulses in his hold. I want to wrap my arms around him because the distress in his voice is so clear it breaks my heart even more, but he’s pinning my body so tight I can’t move, so tight that he’s afraid of letting me go. I have no idea what just happened or why he reacted that way but I saw a darker side to Andrew that I don’t think he himself likes.

  My tears should be for the way he just completely over-reacted and the fear he caused me to feel, only now they’re for the fact that this beautiful beast of a man is riddled so deep with demons that he won’t speak of, and that hurts me more than anything. I know I said I’ll give him time, but I don’t know how much longer I can take.

  The room calms as he holds my wet body against his clothes, stroking my hair so gently as though I’ll break. My trembles that wave throughout me I’m now unsure if they’re from shock, fear or the chill of the air. We remain in silence, our breathing is now back to normal, but his heart still races under my ear. The throbbing in my head and shoulder hasn’t subsided and I feel incredibly weak.

  Reaching out, Andrew wraps my bathrobe around my shoulders, never taking me out of his hold as an arm remains around my waist. I’m lifted in his arms, and he carries me like I’m in a cradle to the bedroom, resting me on the bed. However, it’s not my room, it’s his. I’m in his sheets. All this time, I’ve wanted to lay amongst them and it’s taking a situation like this for it to happen. I’m too exhausted to bring myself to look around, my eyes are on him but he’s yet to look at me. When he turns to leave, a new wave of anxiety spreads across my stomach and I reach out and grab his wrist.

  “Don’t leave me,” I whisper.

  A new flow of tears pool in my eyes at the thought of not having him here. Although he’s scared me, I can’t let him leave. I don’t want him to because I can see that he is hurting and the thought of him hurting alone breaks my heart.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Andrew

  The fear in her eyes is killing me, and the fact that I’m the one that’s caused it is too much to bear. I’d not long been home and I could smell the scent of her bubble bath lingering its way through the house as Megan’s sand covered sandals were placed neatly in the hallway. She’d been to Rixon—her favourite place.

  I was desperate to see her; I wanted her in my arms as I ached for her. The sound of smashed glass caught my attention and when I entered the bathroom, my stomach dropped. That sickening feeling of fear that ran through my body when I found her under the water was all too familiar. My blood ran cold. My chest instantly burned as my throat closed with panic. Dragging her up and screaming at her, it never crossed my mind to check she was hurt. My rage was uncontrollable the more I envisioned her under the water and when she said it was an accident, I completely lost my shit altogether. An accident was what led to it last time, that part of my past I wish to forget but that has continued to haunt me for the last six years. Now I’ve only made things worse by making the one person I care for afraid of me.

  My chest is tight at the thought of what could-have-been. I can’t go through that again. I look down at her hand that takes my wrist. I can’t look at her because I know what I’ll see when I do. I can’t bear the thought of seeing the hurt in her eyes.

  “Look at me, Andrew,” she whispers, the weakness in her voice enough to make my legs quake. “Please.”

  She should be running from me. I need her to run from me. I slowly lift my eyes. Her wet hair lies in thick ribbons over her shoulder, the evidence of a white lump I’d not noticed has formed just above her eyebrow. She spoke the truth when she said she had fallen, but when I find her red puffy ice-blue eyes I struggle to keep it together as my own eyes begin to burn with the emotion I’ve held back all this time.

  “Please, hold me.” Her lips quiver in a whisper.

  Why is she doing this? After the way I just treated her she still wants me close. I don’t deserve it, any of it, but as much as I want to run, I don’t want to leave her either.

  I swallow down the lump in my throat and climb over her small frame to the other side of the bed, curling my body to mould against hers. She takes my hand and entwines it with hers, pulling our arms up to rest tight against her chest in a desperation to keep me near. We lay in silence, a silence that is both welcoming and difficult as I wonder what’s racing through her mind, while my own runs wild with everything that happened and everything that needs to be said. But then she breaks that silence with the words I prayed she’d never say as she murmurs.

  “I know you’re hurting. I can see it in your eyes. It’s a darkness that creeps in and takes over you without you having any control no matter how much you fight it. I need to know of it, Andrew. I need to know everything, because I want to share your pain.”

  If my blood isn’t cold enough, ice now hits my heart. I like the fact that I’m right here with her because she makes me feel protected, but she deserves answers to the words I don’t wish to speak, the words that are too painful to speak. I want to tell her everything but I can’t bring myself to go back in time and relive what I’ve been fighting against all these years. Nothing will change what happened. Nothing will change how I feel because when life fucks you over it seems to stay with you for eternity. But I know I can no longer run from this, not anymore. Not
from Megan.

  I pull out of her hold and fall onto my back, looking up at the ceiling to try and find the right words as I give in to an admission that’s killed me inside. “My mother’s an alcoholic, and she’ll make no secret of the fact she only ever wanted a daughter. I was resented. I was their embarrassment. I am their failure.”

  The thought of my childhood spent with that woman brought back that same unpleasant feeling in my stomach, just like it had when I was a kid. I’ve not spoke to anyone of my past other than Marcus and Rosa, and when I disclosed to them, my bloodstream was running with alcohol.

  Megan reaches behind her to take my hand. “Go on,” she whispers.

  “When Dad was at work I’d often go hungry while I sat at the dining table and watched her eat and fill up her champagne glass like she was fucking royalty. Depending on her mood, I’d get a biscuit, but that would end with the belt across my legs because I got crumbs on the carpet. I soon learned to stay out of her way and eventually I was forgotten about altogether. After picking me up from a fall one day, Annie soon became my guardian because my mother didn’t give a shit. She lived a few houses away. She took me to school, made me smile and taught me the right and wrongs in life while Violet—my mother—continued to build her empire in one hand and drink it away in the other. But despite Annie, I needed my mother. I craved for her love and affection but all I got was hatred and humiliation.”

  Even after all these years it still hurts to comprehend why my mother loathes me. Annie loved me unconditionally, and I love her for that, but it didn’t fill the void of a parent’s love that I desperately craved. I hate going back but I do it for Annie. I do it because she taught me respect regardless of who needed it. I do it in hope that one day my mother will change.

  “When Annie died, my mother said it was due to the stress that I’d caused her. She made me believe that I’d intruded in her life so much I broke her down until there was nothing left for her to give. I was damaged and broken, and it was made clear that I wasn’t loved and could never be loved—that I didn’t deserve to have such feelings because I’d only hurt people. After years of resentment and the loss of Annie, I believed it. Then, I met Chloe and everything changed.” I can remember the first time I saw her, plain as day. We we’re on a business convention, her long chocolate hair cascaded over her shoulders as she sat shyly at the back of the room. The moment I saw her, she intrigued me and when she smiled I knew she’d be mine.