Untouchable (Unstoppable 1)

Eyes intent on hers, I said, “You shouldn’t.”

She ducked her head, a curtain of wavy blonde hair falling forward to cloak her face. I couldn’t see her reaction, but the pain and frustration bled into her words unchecked.

“Why not? Because you’re hurting, and you don’t want me to see it? Because you don’t want to be with me anymore? Because we had sex and you think you did something wrong? All the above? What?” Her head came up.

“I don't fucking think I did something wrong, Riley. I did do something wrong!”

Holding her arms out, she held my eyes; hers flashed defiantly. “I wanted it to be you.”

“Li

ke that?” I demanded, voice rising as I jabbed a finger in the direction of my bedroom door. “That’s what you wanted?”

“Does it matter how it happened?”

“Fuck yes, it does!” I roared. “I don’t even fucking remember it, Riley!”

I saw her flinch, watched those big green eyes well. She looked away, clearing her throat. “And what about tonight? Do you remember that?”

I didn’t respond.

Her throat worked, hard eyes swinging back to me. “Did you have sex with someone tonight?”

“No, I didn’t.” I’d thought about it. Couldn’t fucking do it, though.

“Kiss someone?”

“No.” My eyes cut sharply to hers before I could stop them, the emphatic denial breaking through my lips without hesitation. Probably should have lied, made her hate me. But I couldn’t let her think I’d put my lips on some random chick. That was for her, and her only. Even if everything was fucked up beyond repair.

Her chin wobbled slightly as she nodded, her shoulders rising with her extended inhalation.

“But you did something?”

Pushing further into the room, my silence answer enough, I strode past her and jerked the refrigerator door open. My chest constricted at the sight of the groceries lined neatly on the glass shelves. She’d shopped, filled the fridge, cleaned the place. For me. My fingers squeezed around the door.

I’d let some chick hang all over me, let her hands roam my chest and lips trail my neck. I’d sat there like a fucking mannequin as she’d climbed up and straddled me, her body grinding into mine. I hadn’t touched her, but I hadn’t stopped her either. Leon had looked seconds away from beating my ass the entire time. Pity had stopped him. He hadn’t said it. Hadn’t needed to. I recognized the look by now. And you didn’t punch a guy who was grieving, who's entire fucking family just fell off the face of the earth.

I wished he had. I’d fucking wanted him to. Hitting the guy who’d murdered O hadn’t even come close to providing the relief I’d been hoping for. Taking a hit, though? That gave me a minute's fucking peace from the shit storm that was my mind. Letting some girl dry hump me to take my brain off Riley? It did the exact opposite. All I could goddamn think about was Riley. And when this chick had gone for my belt, I’d bolted. Moved her off and walked away.

“Why?” Riley whispered.

I stood still, staring unseeing into the fridge. “Because this isn’t going to work.”

Silent seconds ticked by. “Don’t I get a say?”

Slipping the door closed, I pivoted and leaned back against it, resolute. “No.”

Her lips pursed in frustration and her small hands flattened on the counter behind her as she straightened. “You said you loved me. A few weeks ago. You said those words. Was that just bullshit?”

Breath escaped my lips in a harsh puff. “That feels like a different fucking lifetime, Riley.”

Her head tilted as she observed me, her fingertips curling around the counter. “And you don’t feel that way anymore?”

I met her gaze, rising off the fridge and rocking on the balls of my feet, planting my hands low on my hips. “I’m not the same guy anymore.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Shaking my head, I dragged air in through my nose. “What do you want me to say?”