I’m trying not focus on Jordan’s nearness, or how my skin tingles when he touches me. Or how amazing he smells. Or that I want him to kiss me.
Right now.
More than anything.
Yes, that’s what I’m thinking about in this screwed up moment.
Normal is something I will never be. I figured that out a long time ago.
“Stop apologizing,” he says softly, meeting my eyes. “Just tell me what happened back then.”
I hold my gaze steady. “Nothing happened.”
“Nothing happened? You zoned out completely. Where’d you go?”
I look away, focusing on the wall behind him. “Nowhere special. I’m sorry.”
He sighs. His warm breath blows through my hair. His exasperation should bother me, but all I can focus on is the way his nearness is making me feel right now. And that’s alive.
I can’t ever remember feeling this alive before.
“Seriously, stop saying you’re sorry. You have nothing to be sorry about. I’m just worried about you.” He presses the wipe against my lip. “Were you thinking about what your ex did to you? How you got the black-eye? I know that traumatic events can sometimes be triggered by the smallest thing, causing blackouts and that kind of thing.”
My body freezes. Muscles stiff.
I shake my head.
It’s the truth because the real screwed up in me happened long before Forbes came into my life. Forbes was just the rain after the tornado.
“I’m fine,” I say, probably a little too harshly. I don’t mean to be this way, but I just can’t talk about it. Not with him.
Not with anyone.
Removing the wipe, he steps back and rakes a hand through his hair. I can tell he’s frustrated, and I’m the one frustrating him.
All I ever seem to do is frustrate and anger men, but that’s also all I know. Kindness confuses me. Throws me for a loop.
An angry, frustrated man makes more sense to me.
“I know you don’t know me well, but you can trust me. You can talk to me and tell me anything. I won’t judge … honestly, I’m no one to judge.” His gaze sweeps the floor, then meets back with mine. His eyes are honest and clear. “I might be able to help you.”
Even when he’s frustrated, he’s kind. I don’t know what to do with that.
But I do want his help. More than anything I want to trust someone. I want to trust him.
I open my mouth to let the words spill out. But I can’t. The broken in me can’t be fixed.
“I’m long past help.” I shake my head, hating that I let that slip out. “I appreciate it – you – everything you’ve done for me. But really, there’s nothing to talk about.” I slide down off the stool.
“Thanks for the clean-up, but I’m going to skip dinner. I’m feeling pretty tired.”
“Mia…”
Ignoring the plea in his voice, I’m out of the kitchen and running to my room.
Chapter Eleven
Jordan
I lift my hand to knock on the door, then retract it and step back.
I’m standing outside Mia’s room, wondering if I should knock on her door or not.
It’s a fairly simple act. I lift my hand. It makes contact with the wood. I knock. She opens the door.
Simple, right?
So why am I thinking it over?
Because after last night, things don’t feel so simple anymore when it comes to Mia. Not that I’ve been coasting down easy street from the moment I met her, but this is just way out of my territory.
I have no clue what to say to her. And I always know what to say to women.
I suppose, I could just act like it never happened.
Yeah, because that wouldn’t be a totally shitty thing to do.
Maybe I can just let her know if she ever needs to talk to me about anything, I’m here.
That’s it. I’ll do that. I’ll knock on the door, tell her breakfast is ready, ask her what time she wants to leave to go to Farmington, and subtly mention that I’m here for her.
Easy.
I lift my hand to the door, and suddenly see a flash of Mia’s face from last night.
The look on her face. She was completely zoned out. Somewhere else. And the way she bit into her lip … I have honestly never seen anything like it.
I’m not afraid to admit that seeing her like that frightened the shit out of me.
What could have made her get that way?
I’m guessing things are way worse for her then I’d first thought. More than just the douche ex giving her that black eye.
I got that when she said she was beyond help and ran out of the kitchen like her feet were on fire.
In that moment, I wanted to go after her. Help her. I almost did. But I stopped myself.
Why? Because I knew if I did, I would be crossing the line into something else.
I would be getting in deep with her.
I don’t do deep. I can’t do deep.
Fucking? Yes.
Touchy feely? Huge no-no.
I back up, lean against the wall and drive my hands through my hair.
I’m exhausted. I hardly slept last night. I had Dozer and his broken leg in bed with me, leaving me with an inch of mattress to sleep on. My lack of sleep had absolutely nothing to do with Mia’s freak out last night. I might have thought about it a few times. But not much. I was just trying to figure out what her f**khole of an ex could have put her through. And all thinking about it did was rile me up.
So then I thought happy Mia thoughts.
I thought about having sex with her in multiple different ways. And I imagined what those sweet lips of hers would feel like to kiss.