He closes the space between me and him and I tell myself to back away, but my feet won’t move. They have grown limbs and taken root right here in the tiled the floor.
He stops in front of me, and one of his talented hands is instantly cupping my face, the other branding my hip. His head lowers intimately, huddling us together, two people in a room with others, but somehow alone. “My God, woman,” he murmurs, his voice gravelly. “I’ve been worried. So damn worried. What happened? How are you?”
He smells like man and musk, like fresh grass in the sunshine on a rainy day, like heaven in the midst of hell. He feels like the comfort of home and the fire of desire. For just a moment, I am lost in all of those things. I am lost in him.
“How did you find me?”
“I went to two hospitals, three minor emergencies, and your apartment first. I just didn’t give up. What is going on with you?”
“You haven’t been home, have you?”
“No. Why would I be there when you’re here?” He glances down at my injured hand. “How bad is it?”
He always says the right things, does the right things, but everything right with him is wrong, I remind myself. I shove away from him and step back. “Go home, Kace. You’ll figure out why I wasn’t taking your calls when you get there.”
“Did he do this to you?” Alexander demands, stepping inside the invisible circle that shunned the rest of the room just moments before.
Kace doesn’t even look at him but warns, “Don’t push me, Alexander.”
“Why? You going to hurt me like you hurt her?”
I whirl on Alexander. “He didn’t do this to me. Please don’t start a fight with Kace.” I turn back to Kace and add, “I know everything, Kace.”
“And this everything you think you know, is that why you’re with him?”
“He showed up at the apartment and I needed help.”
“Which should have been me,” he says.
“I know, Kace.”
“Come with me, Aria,” Alexander urges. “I’ll take you home.”
Kace steps closer to me, and this time, I step back at the same time. “Don’t,” I warn, pointing at him.
He lowers his voice. “Whatever you think you know,” he says, “you don’t. I promise you, baby. Talk to me. Let me explain.”
I can feel him pulling me under and it’s terrifying how easily I could drown in this man, quite literally. “We have nothing to talk about.”
“And if you’re wrong?” he challenges. “If you don’t know what you think you know?”
“I do. I know what I know, Kace.”
“And if there is even a small chance you don’t?” he counters. “Is he how you really want to handle this? By inserting Alexander in the middle of us?”
I can’t breathe for the emotion that has now balled in my chest. I should walk away. Why am I not just walking away?
“I’m crazy about you, Aria,” he continues. “And we are good together. You know that. I know you know.”
“He’s a player,” Alexander snaps. “Don’t let him suck you in.”
“You and me, baby,” Kace says softly, his voice like lights dancing on a night ocean, the only thing that stops a spiral into darkness. “Don’t just throw us away.”
Us.
That’s the word that gets me.
Us.
Don’t just throw us away. I can’t just throw us away. It’s dangerous, I know, but I have to hear what he has to say. I need to hear what he has to say.
I turn to Alexander. “Thank you for helping me. I need to stay with Kace right now. I’ll call you tomorrow. I do believe I owe you.”
He cuts his gaze to Kace and then back to me. “Are you sure?”
“I am,” I say. “But truly, thank you.”
He hesitates, and then says, “I don’t like leaving you.”
“And you have been a gentleman, but I’m fine. I promise.”
He makes a low growling sound and curses under his breath. “You have my number. Call me if you need me. Don’t hesitate, no matter the time.”
I nod. “Again, thank you.”
His lips thin and instead of just leaving, he rotates to Kace. “I better not find out you did this.”
Calm, cool Kace August isn’t as calm and cool at all. He steps toward Alexander, and I rotate, placing myself in between them, dropping my medication bag, my one good hand flattening on Kace’s chest. “No. Please. I’m begging you.”
His jaw tics and I twist around to face Alexander. “Go. Now. Before this becomes something we all regret.”
He scowls and glares at Kace.
“Alexander!” I snap.
“I’m going,” he replies, holding up his hands. “I’m going.” He turns on his heel and marches toward the door.
Kace grips my shoulders and he leans in, his lips brushing my neck. “Let’s get you home.”
Home.
That word guts me. I don’t have a home right now. Nothing about anything in my life feels like home right now except Kace, and he’s betrayed me. He scoops up my medication bag and wraps his arm around me, setting us in motion, his big body a shelter I would have cocooned inside just hours earlier. Now it frightens me how good he feels, how right he feels, how readily I want to trust him, and forget those photos.