Pride
Page 77

 Rachel Vincent

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
I let my eyes close, and my body relaxed onto the floor, allowing the cold surface of the wood to leach some of the heat from our union, mercifully cooling my overheated body.
“Faythe…” he said, running one finger down the damp line of my chin, angling my face toward him. I opened my eyes to find the cobalt in his sparkling brighter than I’d ever seen it.
But that blue wasn’t right. I should have been looking into brown eyes, sparkling with tiny flecks of gold. This is all wrong!
“No. Oh, no. Jace, I…” I planted both hands on his chest and pushed him away, guilt and confusion shredding my heart like claws through cotton. What the hell had I done?
Tears filled my eyes, mercifully blurring first his bewilderment, then heartbreak. Then horror. He scrambled off me, banging his bad arm on the sofa cushion and leaving me cold and empty. And miserable.
“Faythe…?” The tremor in his voice broke my heart. Then understanding surfaced, and his tear-filled eyes searched mine desperately. “No. No,” he whispered through clenched teeth. “This was not wrong. It’s the only thing I’ve done right in months. Don’t you dare regret this.”
“Jace, I’m sorry….”
“Damn you, Faythe.” He choked on the words, holding back his own sob. He grabbed my arm, holding me in place when I tried to stand. “I’m not going to let you do this to yourself. Or to me. No matter what happens next, we’ve done nothing wrong. We were there for each other. That’s it.”
I nodded, but I knew better, and my heart felt so heavy each beat actually hurt. “I know. But this…” I gestured back and forth between us. “We can’t do this. I’m with Marc. I love Marc. “And the real bitch was that I’d still love him even if he never forgave me for what I’d just done. Which was a virtual guarantee…
Fresh tears trailed down my cheeks, scalding me as I looked at Jace. Hating myself. Weren’t things bad enough already? How did I always manage to make everything worse?
Determination glinted in his eyes, and was set in the firm line of his mouth. “This isn’t about Marc. I know you love him, and he’d move the earth to be with you. We all know that. But I love you, too, and we could be missing out on something great.” His sudden fortitude shocked me. Scared me. “Faythe, don’t push me away. You’re all I have left.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and took several deep breaths, trying not to smell Jace in front of me, not to taste him on my lips. But it was useless. In that moment, Jace was everywhere. He was in my mind, he was in my heart, and he was in my memory. He smelled good. He tasted good. And the blissful aftershock still throbbing in my most sensitive places felt wonderful, when everything else in my life was an obstacle to be overcome.
No! That’s not fair. I shouldn’t feel pleasure and comfort from someone else while Marc was out there suffering somewhere, trying to get back to me.
“Don’t do this, Jace,” I begged, because the truth was that I wasn’t sure I could put this behind me, if he wasn’t willing to do the same thing. I opened my eyes to find him staring at me in heartrending vulnerability backed by resolve the likes of which I’d never seen in him. “We can’t do this to Marc.”
Jace shook his head, and a fine, hard edge of irritation peeked through his expression, as if he were tired of having to explain such simple concepts. “I’m not asking you to leave him. I’m just asking you not to leave me. Don’t count me out.”
What? My heart tripped, and my stomach pitched in anticipation. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I can wait. For now. But when things get back to normal—assuming that ever happens—I want my shot. We can make each other happy, Faythe. I know it. And I’m done walking away from things I want just because they don’t come easily. You’re worth the work.”
Oh, now, he decides he’s Alpha material…
The front door opened on my left, and cold air swirled inside to douse the heat we’d built. Jace whirled around and swiped the back of one hand across his mouth, as if that would hide what we’d done.
It wouldn’t, and neither would covering myself, yet I pulled my shirt from the pile of discarded clothing and clutched it to my chest, as if it could also cover my guilt.
Dr. Danny Carver stood frozen in the entry, one hand still on the doorknob. His face was carefully devoid of judgment, but in the werecat world, that only meant he was thinking things he didn’t want us to see. “Um… Greg wants everyone in his office.”
“Sure.” Jace stood and scooped up his pants in a single, graceful movement no human could have managed. Though in that moment, I probably couldn’t have managed it, either. “Let me get a clean shirt.” His eyes were still red, and the doc’s gaze softened when he saw that. He thought he knew what had happened; I could see that in his face. He thought we were comforting each other the best way we knew how. And he was right. But he had no idea it went beyond that. Maybe way, way beyond that.
Jace was gone in seconds, his heavy steps echoing up the stairs, and a moment later, water ran from the shower. But his eyes burned into mine from my own memory, long after he was gone.
I pulled my shirt over my head and stood to step into my underwear, gripping the arm of the couch for balance. I was dizzy, and I didn’t know whether I had Jace or the tequila to thank for that.
“You okay?” Carver closed the door and reached for my arm to steady me, but I waved him off as I pulled my pants back on. “I’m fine. Well, as fine as everyone else, anyway.”