I may have also been using this opportunity to not only let out the anger I had toward Ian for shooting me accusatory looks at the mention of Brock but for breaking my goddamn heart in the first place. I glared at him. The soft feeling I had towards seeing him again without any shrapnel wounds had dissipated and reality was setting in. He glared back at me then nodded.
He chose that moment to retreat with his plate of food. I struggled not to perv at his ass as he was walking away. I failed.
I realized that Gwen’s eagle eye was on me as I dragged my own gaze away from her brother’s glorious behind. “What the hell was that?” she shot.
Oh shit.
“What?” I tried for innocent.
She wasn’t having it. “You know what. You and Ian—what the hell is going on? You guys were acting weird.”
“No, we weren’t.” I went for denial.
“Yes, you were,” she pressed.
“Were not.”
At this juncture she let out a frustrated groan and then in a flash my plate was whisked away. My eyes narrowed. You did not take away chocolate from a woman who was suffering serious love life troubles. Granted, Gwen was oblivious to these troubles, but my emotions didn’t know that.
“Hey, what the fuck?” I nearly snarled. I needed that chocolate. It was that or heroin. And I didn’t like the way addicts wore their hair.
“You don’t get any more until you tell me what’s going on,” she declared, holding the plate out of my reach.
Gwen did not know how close I was to tackling her right now. Cade entered the room and I directed my scowl in his direction. “Your girlfriend is evil,” I informed him.
I used his arrival as an opportunity to push past Gwen and snatch my plate of sanity before escaping up the stairs. “That will go straight to your ass,” I heard called after me.
“Fuck you!” I shouted back. I slammed the door to my room and tucked myself in bed, shoving cake into my mouth and trying to sort all of my emotions out. Seeing Ian again made me painfully aware I wasn’t over him. I still loved him. He was strong. Caring. And extraordinarily sexy. He also broke my heart.
My mind wandered to Brock. Also strong. Also sexy. But he was different. He made me furious. Irritated the shit out of me. We hardly went five minutes without arguing. What we had was raw and real; he didn’t romanticize me and put me on a pedestal like Ian did. He ravaged me body and soul, but he didn’t take shit. Didn’t treat me like I was some delicate china doll who needed to be handled with care.
These thoughts rolled around in my head until well after my plate was licked clean. Well after the lights turned off and a Harley roared away.
I was painfully aware that Ian was in the same house as me. I had wished for him to be this close, pleaded for it. Now I didn’t know how to handle it. I even had the evil thought of wishing he was still over fighting some unknown war so I didn’t have to face the grim reality that was staring at me through the darkness.
I was in love with two men.
“Fuck this,” I muttered, throwing my covers back and slipping out my door. I wasn’t intending on going anywhere near Ian’s room, not with Gwen in the house. My mission was to locate either vodka or chocolate and either drink or eat my problems away. Said mission was foiled when I reached the kitchen and came upon a shirtless Ian sitting at the breakfast bar.
His eyes flared as he took in my nightgown. I self-consciously yanked it down. I don’t know why, the man had seen me naked for Christ’ sake. Plus I should have felt a little satisfaction at the hungry gaze that flickered over my lace-clad body. Instead I felt panic.
“What are you doing?” I whispered at him accusingly.
“Waiting for you. It’s about time,” he replied casually but his voice was gruff.
I crossed my arms. “I didn’t come here to see you,” I said.
“Yeah, I can guess what you came down for.” He shifted slightly to reveal the bottle of beer he was drinking and a glass of vodka. “I know you, Abrams,” he declared.
I narrowed my eyes. “You used to know me. Then you left and chose an unwinnable war over me. I’ve changed,” I snapped at him, snatching the glass from his outstretched hand.
His eyes didn’t leave mine. “Not from where I’m sitting. You’re still beautiful. You’re still fiercely protective over my sister and you’re still sarcastic as hell. You’re still my Amy,” he said hoarsely.
“I’m not yours,” I snapped, “You made sure to let me know that a year ago.”
Ian sighed, standing. “I wanted to protect you, Amy. I wasn’t ready to leave the army. My duty. I didn’t want you resigned to the life of a soldier’s wife. Waiting for sporadic phone calls, only half living your life because of the way I chose to live mine.” He stood, moving toward me. “I wanted you to be happy, to have a chance to move on—not be stuck in one place waiting for me.”
I stepped towards him, pointing my finger at myself. “No, you didn’t do it for me. You did it for you. So you didn’t have to feel guilty for going over and satisfying whatever it is that makes you leave and risk your life.” I glared at him. “You didn’t even give me a chance. Didn’t give us a chance. You didn’t believe I was strong enough to handle it. I was. I would have been. Or I would have tried my fucking best. It might have worked. It might not have. But you took that choice away from me,” I finished on a whisper yell. “And then after Gwen was hurt you came back and those nights—” My voice broke slightly remembering the silent, desperate way we made love, trying to comfort each other. “Those nights that we shared, I thought it meant something to you. Made you realize it was something worth waiting for. But no. It was off to war you went again, without a fucking backwards glance!”