Underwater (12 page)

“How do you know him?” she asked.

“I work here.”

“You work here?”

“Yep. I’m a bouncer.”

“Oh. What about the support group? Aren’t you working there too?”

“Nah, I’m only a helper there a few times a week. It’s not exactly a full time job.”

She nodded as if she was trying to read me. I moved closer. She worried her lip some more and stepped back. For every backward step she took, I stepped forward, until she was caged between the brick wall and my body. I placed my hands on the wall on either side of her head. She sucked in a breath, her body tensing against me. I didn’t mean to invade her personal space, but I needed to be
near
her, to breathe her air.

Was it so wrong to want to hold on to the first good thing coming my way, after more than four excruciating years?

Call me a greedy bastard, but I couldn’t let this woman go.

“I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to say this sooner,” I said. “But your song…watching you up on stage... it was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. You…” I drew closer, until our noses touched. “You took my breath away.”

“Thank you,” she said so quietly I almost didn’t hear her.

Brushing my lips across her ear, I whispered, “You’re welcome.”

She settled a shaky hand on my chest and gave me a small shove, trying to push me away.

I didn’t budge.

“You’re too close,” she breathed out, her voice quivering.

“Does my nearness bother you?”

Her throat bobbed nervously. “Yes,” she whispered.

I took a step back, giving her room to breathe. I didn’t mean to get out of control. I didn’t want to intimidate her. I wanted her on board with me, and I would do whatever I could to make that happen.

“I once had a thousand desires. But in my one desire to know you all else melted away.”

—
Rumi

W
hen we stepped into the night air, I couldn’t help admiring the starry sky. There was something about a sky full of twinkling stars that always managed to calm me. Until he decided to invade my personal space, that is.
 
One moment I was staring skyward, the next, he stood mere inches from my face. My goodness. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. All I could see, feel, and smell was
him
. He smelled divine, and all I wanted to do at that moment was breathe him into my lungs.

I wasn’t used to feeling this way. I always made decisions with my head. But ever since I had met this man, I was making decisions with my heart.

Then, when I felt his breath in my ear, I couldn’t –
breathe
. “You’re too close,” I said, feeling my voice tremble.

I need space – I need space.

He stepped back, putting air and distance between us. My shoulders relaxed and my lungs felt safe to exhale. I closed my eyes, buying time to figure out if it was fear I was feeling or excitement. All I knew was he made my heart race.

After a moment, I opened my eyes. His six foot tall frame leaned against the wall opposite me. His hands were in his front pockets and he stared at me like I was an encrypted code he was trying to crack.

I allowed myself permission to look at him, tracing the zigzag pattern of his scars with my eyes.

How did it happen? Who did this to him?

I found myself wanting to put my fingers on them and trace their path. I wanted to caress them while assuring him his scars weren’t something to be ashamed of. I wanted to kiss them, tell him I thought they were beautiful because they meant survival.

And his dark wispy hair, I wanted to brush my fingers through every fine strand, and run my fingers along his strong jaw and sharp cheekbones. Most of all, I wished I had the courage to dive into the blue of his eyes. They were warm and inviting and everything about them called to me, drawing me into their depths. But I was too afraid I would drown in them. I forced myself to lower my gaze to the snug, black V-neck T-shirt that outlined his broad shoulders and strong arms, and I got lost in him all over again.

“How old are you?” he asked in a gruff voice.

My eyes snapped to his, catching me off guard. He worked here and my ID was fake. I didn’t want to answer. I opened my mouth and then closed it.

“What are you mulling over in that pretty little head of yours?”

“Nothing.”
Shit.

“I can already tell you’re not twenty-one. I’m just... I’m not sure how much younger you are.” He rubbed his neck. He seemed to be stuck somewhere between nervous and hopeful. “So how young are you?”

“Nineteen,” I said softly. I could hear his relief whoosh out of his lungs. “What about you?”

“Twenty-five.”

Six-years older than me
. I stood still and watched him quietly, not sure what to think.

He was still leaning against the wall, his bulky arms folded across his chest, grinning.
 
“What? Too old for you to handle?”

He thought he was being funny? Well, two could play that game.

“Actually, I don’t give a shit how old you are. You could be ninety for all I care.”

The grin that had softened his hard features disappeared. He lowered his head and closed his eyes tightly. ”I see.”

Shit, I didn’t mean it like that.
I felt a tug on my heart.

“I was joking,” I quickly said, walking towards him, stopping when I reached him. “I’m glad you’re not ninety. It would have been a shame if you were.”

In a blink, I was pushed up against the wall. I gasped in surprise when he pinned my hands above my head with both of his, while his hard body pressed firmly against mine. His breath was warm across my cheek. Our lips were barely an inch apart. I thought my heart would burst right out of my chest.

Then…he smirked at me.

The realization hit me like a splash of cold water. He was
teasing
me. He hadn’t been offended at all. And I was gullible enough to fall into his trap.
Damn him
.

“You are such a liar,” I accused.

His grin turned wicked. I noticed a dimple on his left cheek. His eyes sparkled with a devilish glint. He was enjoying this situation way too much, the fibber.

“You started it, darling,”

“Are you crazy?” I glared. “Let me go.”

I struggled to get free, but his grip on my wrists was firm.

“Not going to happen.”

Not going to happen?

“You have five seconds to let go or I swear I’m going to scream!”

His hold on my wrists, if possible, tightened. “You can try all you want. No one is going to hear you.”

Every muscle in my body went rigid. I stilled as fear started to flow through my veins. “Are you going to hurt me?”

Had I read him all wrong?
Maybe I had given him too much credit. God, I was so stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Who in their right mind would go blindly with a stranger in a dark alley?

But he wasn’t a stranger
, a small voice in my head whispered. I shoved it back. Stranger or not, I was stuck and at his mercy, yet again. Only this time, he was wide awake and aware of his actions, and I wasn’t sure which state of mind was safer for me to be near.

I stole a peek at him under my lashes. Where I expected to see malicious eyes looking at me, I saw, instead, a look of confusion.

“Of course not! What do you take me for?” His voice was full of panic, his eyes wild and fearful.

My heart felt another tug. It was also still racing uncontrollably. “What did you expect me to think when you said no one would hear me scream?”

If I thought he looked alarmed before, it was nothing compared to the way he looked now. His face paled. “Fuck!” he cursed, then lowered his head and rested it over my shoulder. I could feel his hair tickling my chin as he breathed harshly. We stood like that for a long moment. I closed my eyes. His frame plastered against mine, the heat of his body protecting me from the cold. Then the sound of his voice broke through the silence that surrounded us. The feel of his breath on my skin made a shiver run down my spine.

“Goddamn. Why do I always screw up when it comes to you?” He raised his head, his eyes piercing into mine, daring me to look away. ”You have to know by now, I would never hurt you. Not on purpose,” he added quietly.

“You have a funny way of showing it,” I mumbled, wanting to hold on to my fear and anger. But one look into his distressed eyes, and every doubt I had about Dorian Black dissolved into thin air.

I wanted him away. I wanted him close. I wanted everything and nothing.

“I just want to understand why you do that,” he whispered.

“Do what?”

“Pull away from me.” He kept his focus directly on me, searching and reading. I felt naked, exposed, like he could see beyond my walls. Beyond my clothes. Beyond my skin. “What are you afraid of?” he asked.

“I’m not afraid of anything.”

“But you are. When things start to get too much for you to handle you run away.”

Anger flashed through me as I heard his words.
How dare he?
Running away was the last thing I did these days. Taking a step back and running away was not the same thing.

“You don’t know shit about me,” I hissed.

“I would like to.”

His directness knocked me back for a moment. Why did he want to get to know me? And why did I try to fight it? My head was a complete mess.

“We don’t exactly run in the same crowd.”

“I’m not sure if you noticed, but I’m not running with any crowd. I prefer to be alone. But I would gladly make an exception. For you.”

“I... I don’t know.”

“There’s always the support group,” he said hopefully. “You could always come back.”

“I can’t.”

“It might help you.”

“You’re supposed to say that,” I grumbled. “You work there.”

His face suddenly became serious.
 
“Every meeting I sit there and every meeting proceeds the same way. I never exchange a word with the participants, or give them advice. That isn’t in my job description.”

“So why does it matter to you if I come back?”

His eyes held mine. “Because when it comes to you, I…” He went silent, looking at me with uncertainty. I could tell he wasn’t sure if he should finish saying what he started. Then, he lowered his face, inching closer to mine. I swallowed audibly as I watched his pupils dilate.

“You what?” I breathed.

“I care,” he whispered.

“You don’t even know me.”

It was my last attempt to fight it.
 
His hands, still holding my wrists as prisoners, released them and began to slide down my arms, touching me gently while leaving me trembling. He cupped my face and brought our foreheads together. I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation of his hands on me.

“Then let me.”

Swallowing hard, I nodded. ”Okay.”

”Okay?”

“Yeah, why not?” I said. “We can be
friends
, right?”

“Friends?” He took a step back, dropping his hands in the process.

What he wanted from me was something I couldn’t give him right now. A pang of disappointment gripped my heart. Even if I wanted something more with him, nothing was stable in my life. Everything was falling apart. I wouldn’t burden him with my problems. I had a feeling he had enough of his own.

“Yeah, friends. I’m sorry, but that’s all I have to offer.”

It was my only option.

He looked at me for a long time, his eyes searching, probing. “There’s someone waiting for you at home?”

I blinked. “If you consider my dad as someone waiting for me at home, then yes, I have someone waiting.”

“Who did you dedicate your song to?”

“Adam.”

“Who’s Adam?” he asked like the name on his tongue tasted bitter, his expression hardening, and his posture stiffening.

I kept my voice low when I answered, “My brother.”

I could tell the exact moment my words sank in. The tension left his body and a smile broke over his face. ”Goddamn, woman. You’ll be the death of me.”

I looked at the ground. I didn’t know what to say.

“Fine. We can do it your way.” My eyes connected with his. “We’ll be friends. For now.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?” 
Did he think I was playing some kind of a game with him?