He took it from me and set it on the counter.
I moaned. “Remind me not to drink again.”
“There’s a trick to it. Water between drinks and try to stay clear of the pop in the mixed drinks.”
“Good to know. But never again.” He held out his hand and helped me to my feet. “When did you get back?”
“Just now.”
I moved to the sink and stuck my toothbrush back in my mouth while he turned on the taps. I watched him in the mirror as he went and flushed the toilet again, grabbed a facecloth from the basket, dampened it then passed it to me.
I wiped my mouth before saying, “I sang with you.”
He half-smiled. “Yeah. And you rocked it.”
“And by myself.”
“You rocked that even better.”
I hesitated then blurted out. “Lac kissed me.” His smile vanished and he casually leaned against the counter, arms crossed to match his ankles. He was also no longer looking at me. “I didn’t want him to. I pulled away and told him not to do it again.”
“I saw,” he replied.
“I don’t like him . . . not like that.”
“Okay.”
I expected more than that. This was not my territory. I was confused and my head hurt like hell. I also didn’t know what he wanted and he wasn’t helping me here. God, I didn’t know what I wanted. Well, I did. I just had been so determined to find normal. Subtle. Quiet. Of keeping my past in the past and suddenly I wanted to take a chance. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You need to figure that out, Haven.” He pushed away. Whoa, what was that? “Advil’s in the kitchen in the top drawer. Take two.”
I snagged his arm before he had the chance to walk out and the muscles tensed under my grip. Warmth throbbed beneath my palm trickling into me.
It was the same thrill of electricity every time he was near, except this time, it was threaded with tension. Because I was breathing hard and so was he as we stared at one another. I knew this was bad. I knew I should let it go, but I didn’t want to. I saw the hurt in his eyes when I mentioned Lac.
He threatened to release all the emotions I kept buried as they lifted into my chest and wanted to release. But the complete contradiction was that he was my rock. I needed him. I trusted him.
God, I trusted him. It hit me hard and I didn’t know what to do with it. I’d never felt this way about anyone. I wanted to tell him everything, hand him my demons and trust him with them.
“This . . . confuses me,” I finally said.
He kept his eyes on me as he gently pried my fingers off his arm and I hadn’t realized I’d been holding onto him that hard. “I’ll sum it up for you. I want you, and I think you know that. No, I know you know that. But you won’t trust me and I won’t be with you if you don’t. So this is what’s going to happen. I’m backing off. You clear up that confusion . . . then let me know.”
It was like a hammer the size of a house crashed down on me. He knew I liked him? He was backing off? But he hadn’t even really pursued me, had he? I mean we hung out and . . . and he was always there for me. It was him who I curled into when I broke. It was him who made me smile and laugh again. And I did trust him, just . . . I didn’t trust him enough with my past. Or maybe it was I was scared I’d lose him if he knew.
“Crisis? I like you . . . and I do trust you.”
“No, you don’t. Not with the important parts. And I need more. From you, I need more because I want all of you, not just slices of what you think is safe to give me.” He quietly walked out, shutting the bathroom door behind him.
I didn’t know what to do with that. I was too hungover to do anything except lay on the cool bathroom floor.
I woke still lying on the ceramic tiles, still in the clothes from last night and still not feeling well. My mouth felt as if it had a layer of flour on my tongue. I swished my mouth out with peppermint mouthwash and carefully walked—carefully because my head thumped with every step—and changed into my linen white pajamas.
I had one knee on the bed ready to crawl under the covers and disappear for the day when my phone buzzed. I leaned over and grabbed the jeans I’d just taken off and pulled the offending phone from my back pocket.
We’ll be there in five.
I sat up. Fuck. My brother. He and Kat were coming by to have breakfast. I threw my phone aside and quickly dove for the shower. Smelling like vomit and alcohol was not going to be a raving point for my living here.
I shampooed my hair, using the suds to douse my body then rinsed and was out of the shower within minutes. I dried myself off, wrapped a towel around and darted out of the bathroom, slamming right into a rock-hard chest.
“Ugh,” Crisis grunted, falling back a step from my momentum. “Guess I know why you’re in a hurry? Big brother is coming up the elevator.”
“Shit.” I paused as I realized what he’d said. “How did you know he was first born?”
He shrugged. “Didn’t. Now, I do.”
“How much did you know about me? I mean when he came to live with you.”
“Nothing. I saw a picture of you once. You looked about six or seven, maybe. He had his arm around you and it looked like the water was behind you.” The lake. It was the one time my mother took us to a lake, but it was more because the guy she was dating took us. “He kept it on him all the time, until mom washed his jeans and it got ruined. That was when he went and had ‘Angel’ tattooed on his arm. Didn’t know why at the time.”