“Do you want to—?”

“No,” he interrupted, and I knew exactly how he felt.

I’d never wanted to talk after Daniel had passed either.

“I’m sorry—”

“Stop talking,” he said, walking me back until I hit the kitchen counter.

“Okay.”

As the edge dug into my back, Grayson’s hands came down beside me, caging me in. Pushing forward, he leaned me back slightly until his body was pressed flush against mine.

“I came to end things with you last night, but you ran away.”

Even though I’d been planning the same, to hear the words from him hurt.

“Then end it,” I taunted, pushing my chin out. I’d be damned if I showed him he could hurt me worse than even my father’s blow.

Grayson lowered his head until his stubbled cheek rested against mine and his lips were at my ear.

“I...” he started and then stopped.

I slid my fingers into the short strands now covering his head.

“You?”

He scraped his teeth along a line from my jaw to my chin. Then he lifted his head and looked me right in the eye as he sucked my bottom lip between his.

The sharp bite of pain that came from the cut on my lip made me wince, until his tongue came out and soothed it in a gesture so incredibly intimate, I felt my entire body tremble. Then his anguished words met my ears.

“I can’t.”

Breathing became difficult as he brought a hand to my chest and placed it over my heart. He held my full attention as he began to lightly tap—one, two, three. One two three.

“I need…”

I waited, wanting to hear it—needing to.

His other hand trailed a path around my waist, stopping at the top of my skirt. “I need to feel alive again.”

The word alive was so foreign to me, especially since the last few years I’d felt anything but. However, here with this man, I’d never felt more so as he continued to count my beating heart just like I had done his.

“I need everything.”

His eyes came back to rest on mine and as his fingers curled under my shirt, I replied, “Then take what you need.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Present…

Doc watches me unrelentingly as I sit down in my chair and finally speak.

“I pursued him.”

It’s the first time I’ve ever said the words out loud, and I feel the weight of them.

Doc nods silently, his way of saying continue, and I try to find the best way to explain the unexplainable.

“The first time I saw him was the first time in years that I felt…peace.”

“I remember.”

“You do?”

Doc smiles at me, and although it’s small, I feel the warmth of it. It’s as if he’s truly proud of me for trusting him.

“Yes. You came to see me after the first week of school. Do you remember what you said?”

Racking my brain, I try to remember that session, but when I think back to my first week of school, all I see is him.

“No. I don’t remember.”

“That’s okay. You said it in passing, probably not even realizing the relevance.”

“You’re doing it again.”

“What’s that?”

“Being all doctor-like and cryptic.”

Laughing, Doc sits back. “Oh, so now I know where you got it.”

“Maybe a little,” I admit half-heartedly.

“Good to know.” Doc’s eyes narrow as he tells me, “You came into my office and you couldn’t sit still. You seemed distracted but not in a bad way. So I asked what was different that day, and you told me for the first time in two years—‘Nothing, I’m just happy.’”

Huh. It was something so simple.

It seems unbelievable that’s what gave me away, when happy is the last thing I ever expect to feel again.

* * *

Past…

I pushed Addison’s shirt up to reveal the pink lace bra underneath and felt my knees threaten to give way. Yeah, fuck walking away. The best I could hope for was to step back for a moment and catch my breath.

Moving to the other side of the kitchen, I told her, “Stay right there.”

Disheveled. That was how she looked as she leaned back against the counter with her shirt bunched up over her breasts and her hair in disarray, and I wanted more.

“Take it off.”

“My shirt?”

Coming to a stop against the opposite counter, I picked up the scotch and unscrewed the lid.

“Yes, your shirt. Take it off.”

Without hesitation, Addison reached up and removed her shirt, dropping it on the tiled floor.

“The skirt too,” I ordered and lifted the bottle to my lips.

With her beguiling blue eyes following my every move, she unbuttoned the top of her skirt. She traced the tip of her tongue over the cut on her lip, and I knew she had to be remembering the way I’d sucked it because fuck, I was.

The warm burn of alcohol made its way down my throat as I continued to watch Addison remove her clothes, and when her skirt fell away from her hips, something slipped from the pocket and hit the floor.

We both looked down at the same time, and there between us was a shiny black pen. One just like my—

“Where did you get that?” I asked and moved to where the pen was lying on the ground. Bending down, I picked it up.

“You must have dropped it last night,” she said, “when you came to see me.”

I stood and ran my finger over the engraving.

He’d been right. This, what I felt right now, wasn’t good or evil. It was beyond that. I placed the pen on the counter and stepped in front of her.

“Come closer,” I invited with a crook of my finger.

Raising her chin, Addison took two steps with the intention of more until I halted her with my hand and shook my head.

“Turn around. Show me everything.”

Her lashes lowered as she inspected my body, and I felt that silent perusal as sure as a touch. She slowly turned, and my cock throbbed in response.

The creamy skin of her back came into view, and I wanted to stroke my fingers over it. I knew that eventually I would, but right now…right now, I was just going to look.

When her back was to me, I let my gaze wander down to the pink panties covering her ass. I couldn’t wait to feel that lace under my palms, but I wanted her to make me feel again, and what better way to do that than to take all the power.

Coming up behind her, I noticed she was about to look back at me so I made sure she knew exactly what was about to happen. I wrapped one arm around her naked waist and put my mouth to her ear.

“You’re going to do everything I tell you to,” I instructed. She let out a soft moan and my cock pulsed. “Nod if you understand.”

Quickly, Addison nodded.

“Good girl. When I let go, I want your bra to hit the floor, and then I want your hands on the counter.”

When I got no response, I felt a thrill skate up my spine. The high I was getting from ordering her around was making me feel alive. “Do you understand?”

Addison’s body trembled. She was getting off on the orders as much as I was from giving them.

That was more than fine. I could play that game.

Releasing her, I took a step back and brought the bottle up to my mouth, taking a swig as she made quick work of the bra. The straps slid down her arms, and when she removed the lacy material and dangled it by her leg, she looked over her shoulder and gave a seductive wink. Instantly, the temperature inside my kitchen hit fever pitch.

As nonchalantly as possible, I took another drink as her brow rose and she dropped the bra by her feet. Then calm as you please, she bent over and placed her hands on my counter.

Fuck, nothing had ever been so tempting in all my life.

Her hair was flowing in tousled waves and her tight ass was angled out toward me, encased in the sexiest, most feminine piece of lace I’d ever seen.

But this game, this tease was making my blood pump. It was making my cock pound, and it had made me feel. Which is exactly what I wanted.

“You look untouchable.”

She glanced back at me, and for the first time since we began, she spoke.

“I really hope that’s not true.”

* * *

Present…

“Have you dreamed of Daniel lately?”

The question is so far from what I’m expecting to hear that it stumps me for a second.

“No.”

“Hmm.”

Hating that response, I’m quick to ask, “What does that mean?”

“What?”

“The hmm?”

“Doesn’t mean anything,” Doc says. Then, in his tricky doctor way, he adds, “Should it?”

Feeling a laugh, an actual laugh, bubble inside me, my mouth twists into a tiny grin. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, when we first started seeing each other after the accident, you told me you used to dream of him in a field of purple flowers.”

I remember and can see the field from my dreams just as clearly as if I’m standing there now. The only new piece of this puzzle is the flower. Doc knows what the purple represents to me—death.

“Your dreams stopped when Grayson arrived. Did you realize that? I noted it right here.” He picks up the journal he’d been writing in. “Second week of school and Addison seems preoccupied. No dreams this week. What’s changed?”

I don’t know what I’m supposed to say, so I sit quietly, feeling there is more where that came from.

“The agitated counting, the clock watching—they stopped too. Why, do you think?”