Take Your Time (Fate and Circumstance #2) (18 page)

I grew nearly breathless as he pressed his body into mine, causing me to lean back until I was flat against the painted paper beneath me. He hovered above me, his gaze lingering on mine. Every breath that left his lips hit mine, sending wave upon wave of heated agony through me. I wanted more, but of what, I didn’t know. More of his words, more of his touch. Just
more
.

Finally, he slowly slid down my body and grabbed the tube of red paint. But instead of putting it on his finger this time, he carefully lifted the bottom of my shirt, leaving my stomach exposed. An unfurled groan ran through the air as he tightly closed his eyes.

Before he opened them again, I’d pulled my shirt the rest of the way off, tossing it to the side, leaving my chest only covered in my bra. His eyes snapped to mine, silently pleading with me to stop this, knowing he didn’t have the strength to end it.

Instead of making a decision, I lay still, waiting for his next move. He shook his head before squirting red paint directly on my stomach in a line from the middle of my chest to my belly button. He tossed the tube aside, studying the glistening color, not once glancing up at me. His fingers began to play in the paint, not like before, but as if testing it out first.

“The truth is, Sarah…I don’t want to see you. I never meant to see any part of you. This wasn’t supposed to happen—
you
weren’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to be at that bar. You weren’t supposed to be so sad.” He pressed his hand against my skin, coating his palm in red, and then slowly, gently covered my stomach. “Why did you have to be so sad?” he asked, his voice breaking as if it physically pained him.

I ran my fingers through his hair, forcing him to glance up at my face. “You don’t make me sad. I’m glad I was there…at that bar. I’m glad you saw me. I don’t know where I’d be right now had you not shown up that night.”

He pulled his body up, hovering over me until his mouth lingered only an inch above mine. “Don’t say that. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“But I do. I’m glad you’re in my life. I don’t want to think about my life without you in it.” And with that, my lips became consumed by his. An animalistic growl ripped through him, causing my hips to buck into his.

“This isn’t right,” he said, barely pulling away.

“The best things in life never are.”

He grabbed my hip with one hand, using the other to hold himself up above me, and then thrust his pelvis into mine. My moan mixed with his in the night air almost like harmony. I grabbed his face, ran my fingers through his hair, and pulled him closer to me.

After two more thrusts, he finally stopped. Gazing into my eyes, he pleaded, “Please tell me to stop. Please.”

I didn’t want him to stop. I wanted him to take me all the way. I’ve wanted it since we first met, and the yearning had only grown stronger since. But there was something in his eyes, something desperate in the way his voice shook, that made me pause. This can’t always be about me. It can’t always be about what I want. For whatever reason, Bentley couldn’t take this further, and I had to respect that. Much like he’d done nothing but respect me since that first night at the bar, I had to show him the same.

I pressed my hands to his shoulders, pushing back slightly. “We need to stop, Bentley.” My words weren’t convincing, because it wasn’t what I wanted, but it was enough to cause him to sit back.

He tossed my shirt at me, averting his eyes as if looking at me was too painful. I sat up and glanced around, noticing the mess we’d made. I had paint all over me, all over my clothes, and Bentley had it on him as well. His hands, parts of his face, and the front of his shirt were caked with colors.

“Maybe we should go for a swim to wash this off,” I said with a grin, thinking about the possibility of skinny-dipping with him.

“That’s not a good idea. Gators live in there.” He stood up and extended his hand to mine. “Come on, let’s go inside to wash up.”

His tense voice and stern words left me with no other option but to take his offered hand and allow him to escort me inside. He pulled out a clean pair of boxers and another T-shirt from the drawer in the dresser, and then took me to his bathroom where I stood in silence while he washed his hands in the sink.

“Clean up. I’m going back outside to pick up our mess, and then I’ll take my shower. Meet me back in my room.” Then he kissed me. It was soft and gentle, yet passionate. Long and breathtaking without morphing into hunger or desperation. It was the kind of kiss I’d always longed for, and it left my chest heavy—heavy with promise, love, and respect.

He pulled away, holding my gaze for a moment before leaving the room and closing the door behind him. It took me a moment to catch my breath, but once I did, giddiness consumed me. It infiltrated every last sense I had, calming me with peace, covering me with excitement, and filling me with things I never thought I’d have again.

After my shower, I stood in front of the mirror, trying to see a difference in my reflection. Just a week ago, I couldn’t recognize the person staring back at me, but now, I could see a few similarities. My eyes were still rimmed in dark circles, and my cheeks still appeared hollow. But other than that, I seemed happier. My smile felt genuine, my brown eyes glowed, and my all-around aura was lighter.

I took in a cleansing breath of air and turned to open the door, ready to meet Bentley back in his room. But the moment I swung the door fully open, the bathroom light cascading into the dark hallway, I was met with a man exiting the room across from me. He finished closing the door and then stilled momentarily before slowly turning around to face me. I knew who it was after once glance. And seeing him in front of me left me feeling duped, like I’d been played this entire time.

His amber eyes glowed from the light behind me before they narrowed, studying me as if questioning my presence in
his
house. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to; the way he watched me spoke louder than any words he could’ve used. It was clear that he didn’t want me here. But that didn’t matter, because I didn’t care to be here, either.

He craned his neck to the side, catching sight of what I could only assume to be Bentley without looking for myself. But I didn’t need to see him for confirmation. Especially after Luke’s gaze met mine once more. His shoulders fell, his head hung, and a disheartened sigh left his lips before he turned around and headed back down the hall.

I watched him walk away, watched as he made his way to Bentley on the other side of the house, the side I’d never been to before. He pressed his hand against Bentley’s chest and pushed him backward into the master bedroom at the end of the hall. Bentley’s eyes never left mine—his sad, apologetic gaze pierced mine until it was hidden behind a closed door.

My genuine smile had long since fallen from my lips.

I’m sure the glow in my eyes had dimmed.

And the aura that surrounded me became nothing more than a cloud of utter disappointment.

Fighting back the pain, the dejection, I went to Bentley’s room and sat on the edge of the bed with my knees pressed into my chest. I wrapped my arms around my legs and buried my face, trying to understand it all. But nothing made sense.

Bentley was supposed to have been a stranger. The first time we met was supposed to have been an accident. But how could that have been if his cousin was Luke? Bentley had to have known of the connection. There’s no way he couldn’t have. And then I realized that I still hadn’t asked him how long he’d been in town. Had he been here since Clarissa’s wedding in October? Did he know?

How could he have kept this from me?

I decided to wait it out, wait for him to come back to the room so I could finally get answers—needing them more now with these new questions that popped up. So I sat on the edge of his bed and waited, not caring about the streaks of tears tracking my face.

Finally, the sound of his bare feet padded down the hall before he appeared in the doorway. He stilled, not walking all the way in, and regarded me with a questioning stare. The gig was up. He knew he couldn’t lie anymore, and he watched me as if waiting for the tongue lashing to start. But that wasn’t going to happen.

“How long have you lived here?” I kept my tone low, even, almost emotionless as I stared at him, silently daring him to lie to me again.

“Since October.”

I nodded and bit my lip, my gaze falling away from his. “So you’ve known all along. You knew about Luke and my sister. When you told me about how your
cousin
was screwed over by some chick he dated for two years…you knew that was Clarissa. You told me about how she strung him along after they broke up. All the while, knowing who his ex was.” I brought my attention back to his face—his still, hard face. “You’re such an asshole,” I whispered before standing up and walking toward him.

“Can you please let me explain?” He took two steps into the room, holding his hands up, palms out.

“There’s nothing to explain, Bentley. You lied to me. I don’t do well with that.” I pushed past him, grabbed my purse from the living room, and stormed out the door, not caring that my clothes and shoes were left behind.

Bentley yelled after me, but it didn’t stop me. I got in my car, slammed the door, and then threw the car in reverse. I stepped on the gas as the back tires whipped around. Once I was turned around, I put the car in drive and floored it out of the driveway, never once looking behind me.

Bentley

“
Fuck!
” I slammed my hand into the wall by the front door, frantically searching for my keys. But my mind had become muddled from watching Sarah leave me, and now I couldn’t remember where I’d left them.

“What did I tell you?” Luke’s voice came into the room and I spun around to find him standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. “I told you not to bring her here. And you didn’t listen to me. Now she knows about me, and she’s long gone.”

“Give me the keys to your bike,” I demanded, leaving no room for question in my tone. “I don’t have time for a lecture right now, Luke. I have to catch up to her. I have to stop her before she does something stupid.”

He rolled his eyes and reached into the front pocket of his jeans, pulling out the keys. I didn’t even say thank you as I caught them midair and tore out of the house. The only thought in my mind was that I needed to get to her before she made an impulsive decision, like head out to a bar. I hoped she wouldn’t do that, but her mental state would be sketchy after finding out the truth about Luke, and I couldn’t chance it.

I didn’t give two shits about the speed limit as I raced across town on my way to her house—a house I wasn’t even supposed to know the location of. But the secret was out, so there was no longer any reason to pretend.

I thought about Luke pulling me into his room after he found Sarah in the house. After Sarah found him when she’d come out of the shower. He was pissed, or more likely, disappointed. I could tell he wasn’t happy that the cat was out of the bag. He cared about me, and knowing that Sarah knew he was my cousin meant my time with her was more than likely over.

“Are you going to tell her everything?” he’d questioned me after closing the door, blocking my view from her. I didn’t want to lose sight of her. I felt like if I’d stopped watching her, she’d run away. Run out of my life forever, and that thought debilitated me, stole my breath from my lungs and left me incapable of breathing again. But Luke wouldn’t leave it alone. “Are you?”

“No. Maybe…” I’d dropped my chin to my chest in defeat. “I don’t know. I’ll fucking tell her anything I need to in order to keep her.”

“More lies?”

“No. Not lies. I just won’t tell her certain things. She obviously knows about you now, so that topic is fair game. The other thing, the most important thing, I can’t tell her.”

“Then it’s a fucking lie,
cousin
!” He’d shoved me in my shoulder, knocking me against the wall. “What do you think you’ve been doing? She knows now. She knows about me being your cousin. I’m sure she’ll consider this omission of truth a lie. Because that’s really what it is, just like you’ll still be lying if you don’t tell her the
entire
truth.”

He was right. She did call me a liar. She said I’d lied to her, and the way she said it broke me. I felt physically shattered, broken to pieces. But I needed to make this right. I wasn’t ready for this—what we had between us—to be over with yet.

Sarah made my heart beat, I could literally feel it inside my chest, pumping away as if she were my life support. Without her, there was nothing. No beats, no rhythms, no nothing. I felt lifeless without her. She once told me how she liked to press her ear to my chest to listen to my heart, that it calmed her. There had to have been a reason for that.

Fate. It had to be fate. There was no other explanation. No other reason why we’d lived through these things—this pain, fear, and hopelessness. No other reason why we were brought together. I only hoped
we
still had a chance. I hoped we wouldn’t be torn apart by the things I’d kept from her.

I pulled into her driveway just as she was walking to the front door. I must’ve been riding faster than I thought, because she hadn’t even made it up the steps to her front porch yet. She spun around and glared at me as I approached. The way her breath left her nose and her mouth gaped, I could tell she was pissed. But when my eyes met hers, my heart felt like it dropped in my chest. Her eyes were full of such intense pain it made me want to run to her and hold her.

My breathing was erratic, which wasn’t a good sign, but I couldn’t stop long enough to calm it down. I had to talk to her. I had to get her to let me explain, to make it right. I finally made my way to her, stepping so close, she had to lean her back against the front door, her head tilting back to find my eyes.

I cupped her face in my hands and panted through ragged breaths, “Let me explain.”