hadn’t done him justice.
He took my breath away.
He looked even better than I had remembered. Handsome and sexy rolled into one package that was making my mouth dry.
Nerves carried through my veins, spreading into my chest. It was uncomfortable and unfamiliar. I didn’t know how to act around him, and that had never been a problem for me before.
He wore almost the same thing as the last time I’d seen him, except for the hat.
Because I had his hat.
His eyes were heated. He looked angry. “Why didn’t you call?”
“Because I can’t get mixed up with you.”
“Why not?”
I shrugged. I had about a million reasons, but I couldn’t seem to remember any of them when he looked at me that way.
“You don’t know?” he asked. His voice was soft, a sharp contrast to the hard look in his dark eyes.
“Because you’re a musician,” I said flippantly, as if that explained it all. I took the easy road, the simplest answer. I didn’t know how to admit to him that I already had feelings for him when I didn’t know anything about him. It was too strange, too strong of a pull to be real.
And I didn’t know how to tell him that I was terrified for his safety. He couldn’t get mixed up with me any more than I could get mixed up with him.
“I’ll change jobs.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not worth that.”
“Your sense of self-worth is disappointing, Jimi. I expected more out of someone so beautiful.”
“You can’t say things like that to me.” I turned away from him, focusing on the ordinary to rid myself of the quaking going on inside of me.
“Why not?”
I didn’t answer.
He sighed. “Jimi—”
“Why are you here?” I asked abruptly, interrupting whatever he was going to say.
He looked momentarily surprised, the desire and heat in his eyes temporarily slipping. I liked that I caught him off guard. He was so used to people giving him whatever he wanted that I was proving to be a challenge.
He seemed to like that about me.
My guard was up, but it was slipping. I wasn’t going to be able to resist him much longer. I didn’t want to. I wanted to fold myself into him. I wanted his warmth surrounding every part of me. I wanted his eyes to look lovingly into mine. I wanted to share the pain of my past and wallow in his. I wanted to writhe naked on top of him. I wanted his hard cock pushing into me, pushing me past my limits, pushing me into a soul-shattering orgasm that I’d never recover from.
That was what was going to happen if I gave into what I was feeling.
But the stubbornness in me knew I couldn’t.
I had to protect both of us.
The life of a successful musician wasn’t easy. It was six weeks or three months or more on tour. That meant time away from loved ones. I was all too familiar with that concept. I just didn’t want that life for myself. I wanted a normal relationship with someone who worked a normal job someday down the road when I felt ready to let someone into my life again.
Parker’s band had real talent. I knew their big break was just minutes away. It was in my blood to be able to recognize those things.
I’d grown up around that life, and it was too hard to say goodbye all the time.
But more than that, I couldn’t allow him to get to know me—the real me—because it would only hurt him in the end. Everyone I got close to ended up hurt, so if I was strong, if I kept my guard up and kept pushing him away, he’d be safe.
“I’m here because something started that night of the signing, Jimi. I’m here because I couldn’t get your goddamn beautiful face out of my head for the past six weeks.”
His hand found my chin and he forced me to look up at him again. “I’m here because I turned away every slut that paid any attention my way in the hopes that you’d give me a chance when I got back. I denied every single one of them because I wanted to be strong for you. I don’t understand what the fuck is happening to me,
Learning to Kill: Stories