Page 61 of Butterfly
Time to go, I guess. “I’ll let you sleep then.”
She takes my hand, deep lines wrinkling her forehead. Her tense expression could be anything from fatigue to concern, maybe a mix of both. “Thank you for coming.” She releases my hand and hugs herself, her eyelids drooping.
“My pleasure.” I shove my hands in my pockets again. “See you soon.”
“Soon.” She doesn’t gaze up as she sits on the bed.
On my way out, I meet Tyler who’s leaning against the wall, like a bodyguard. “Are you done, Hollywood?” he asks.
“Don’t call me that.” I walk towards the stairs. If I linger, I’ll punch him, and that’s the last thing Sienna needs.
“Don’t hurt her again,” he whispers behind me, but the hiss reaches me loud and clear.
“Fuck off, Tyler.” Without waiting for him to reply, or punch me, I walk down the stairs.
~ * ~
TWO HORRIBLE WEEKS have passed since the disastrous dinner with Sienna, and the moment to leave for the Peak District has arrived, tasting like an appointment for dental surgery.
Between the planning of season two ofPaladins of Shadowsand bloody interviews, I didn’t see her once. Sacrificing some sleep, I could have popped into her flat, but after that dinner, I needed space to think about us.
I want her like never before, especially after having tasted her. I want her to come with me to the Peak District to meet my family. I want her in my life. But I feel like I’m forcing her, like I’m the only one who cares, and it’s a constant ache that stabs me through the heart. Maybe she doesn’t want me as much as I want her.
Obstacles and problems are the only things she sees. What am I supposed to make of her attitude? Where should I draw the line between dropping the ball and wooing her? I feel like a bloody stalker. Anyway, I guess it’s too late now.
It’s Christmas time, and we’re going to the Peak District together as I planned and she agreed.
I sit in my car, waiting for her and wondering if I should call the thing off. No. Despite my doubts, I want to spend Christmas with her. I’m not sure she does though.
Still, my heart lurches when she walks out of her building, wrapped in a long brown coat that doesn’t complement her figure or her hair and makes her look smaller and more fragile than she usually is. An ache spreads through my chest as I watch her. She’s carrying a burden on her slim shoulders, and she doesn’t want to share it with me. I don’t want to give up on her, but if she doesn’t want my help, I can’t force her to accept it.
I exit the car and open the boot. “Hey.” I take her bags from her cold hands, my breath turning into mist around my mouth.
Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “Hey.”
Shit. The frost between us is so thick, we could figure skate on it. And we have a four-hour drive ahead of us. I could take a helicopter and land in Sheffield in less than an hour. But Dart wouldn’t appreciate the trip.
A drizzle starts to fall as soon as we hit the M1. Dart is chewing on a toy, and the squishy noise of his teeth chomping on the rubber bone is the only sound.
“So, what—” we both say together before we burst out laughing.
“Ladies first,” I say, speeding up along the motorway.
“How are you doing?” She tugs at the lapels of her coat. “How was work?”
“Felt a bit lonely, to be honest. You?” I change lanes to speed up.
She lifts a shoulder, and her polo neck slips down an inch, revealing her creamy skin. Not much though. Between her coat and the polo neck, she’s more covered than a nun, but the little piece exposed stirs my blood with repressed lust. Shit. My erection is straining my trousers, and hell, I’ve barely caught a glimpse of her neck. What the hell is wrong with me?
“…that’s why I missed you,” she says.
Sod it, what did she say? Oh hell, she missed me. I take her hand and squeeze it. “I missed you too.”
“Were these two weeks tiring?”
“Hell, yes.” I release a breath, slowing down as more cars clog the motorway and the shitty weather makes the tar slippery. “We had to work on some pick-up shots in the middle of the meetings.”
“Pick-up shots?” she asks, her voice softer than before.