The Distance Between Us (MAC Security 3)

“Both you and I know that’s not true,” I almost growl.

Stomping over to the door, I fling it wide open, waving my arm at him before looking back at him.

“Don’t be like this, Kitty,” he pleads, and for a second I think I see genuine emotion in his eyes, but I dismiss it. I’ve been a fool for way too long when it’s come to him. Not anymore.

“Out.”

He hesitates a second before sliding past me, placing a kiss on the top of my head. My eyes flutter closed and for that millisecond, my mind wanders to a time when he did this, a time before we slept together, before we became… this.

“I’m always here if you need me,” he whispers, then pulls away.

I close the door softly behind him and head straight for my bed, not bothering to get undressed. Between him and Jonny, I feel like my head is going to explode.

I try my hardest to get rid of the image of Charlie’s face, the look in his eyes. But I can’t. It’s ingrained into my mind and I can’t help but wonder if I just pushed him away for good because as much as I like to tell myself that he doesn’t matter, it’s not true.

He matters.

A whole hell of a lot.

I roll over, pulling the blanket over my face and trying to block it all out. Tomorrow is another day and I have something big planned. I’m determined to get more information on Jonny and I will. I’ll make sure I get something solid on him because even though I didn’t like Charlie turning up, I can’t deny that there isn’t reason for Ty to be worried.

I can feel it in myself, I’m drifting away from who I am. I don’t like it one bit, but being around Jonny is pulling out a side of me that I don’t know how to stop.

I step outside my apartment aft

er a fitful night’s sleep. All I did was toss and turn, my brain working on overdrive, not being able to switch off. If it wasn’t Charlie I was thinking of, it was Jonny. Between the two of them I’m driving myself crazy.

The place is dead at this time of morning, I’m not surprised that I don’t see anyone around. They’re all probably still in bed, sleeping off either their hangover or their high from the night before. The whole apartment block has a different atmosphere when Joel and his “friends” aren’t guarding it. It’s actually quite pleasant to walk through and not have to worry about who is watching you.

I shove my earphone bud into one ear, making sure that I can still hear what’s going on around me. I never want to be completely blocked off from what’s going on. Be aware at all times.

I start a jog on the spot then jump up and down, warming up as I scan the parking lot. When I see Charlie’s car parked toward the back, trying to be inconspicuous, I can’t help but move closer.

Why the hell is he still here?

I look around, making sure no one is watching me and come to a standstill at his window. His head is laid back against the headrest, his mouth slightly open and his face relaxed.

I start to smile as I remember the first time I saw him like this.

I haven’t got up the courage to go and see Evan yet. I knew that I had to go and see him at some stage, but I need to work myself up to it. I’ve been in town for three days now and every night Charlie comes over to my motel room to “check in on me.”

At first, I thought that he was only after one thing, but he isn’t. He sits in the chair as we watch crappy TV and talk about nothing in particular. My mind constantly wanders as to why he even bothers to come here. It’s not like I’m anything special. I’m just a random girl at a bar that he met.

Okay, so maybe I don’t look so random with my lavender-colored hair, soft features on my face, coupled with jeans that have so many slits and holes in them that I may as well not be wearing any. But that’s my style and I like it. All sweet from the shoulders up and badass from the shoulders down.

I lift my head, groaning at the ache in my neck. My eyes spring open when I feel a hand resting on my thigh and I look around, spotting Charlie next to me.

I look over at him, we’re both still in a sitting position at the top of the motel bed, fully clothed and the TV still blaring.

His soft snores sound throughout the room and for a second, I just stare at him. He’s kind of perfect looking, with that All-American, boy next door kind of look but with an edge. The gun still clipped to his belt makes that even more prominent.

Stubble lines his cheeks and jaw, and my fingers itch to touch it, to feel the roughness against my soft palms and fingertips. My eyes linger on his lips for a second and I squirm, wondering what they would feel like against mine. Would they be soft and gentle? Or firm and hard?

“Stop watching me,” he whispers, his voice rough from sleep.

I gasp, my hand flying to my chest and my eyes darting to his. He cracks one eye open and lifts his lips into that smirk that is both charming but insufferable at the same time.

“I… I wasn’t,” I croak back.