Page 71 of One Kiss Isn't Enough
SEDUCTIVE
W. Winters
He’s forbidden, dangerous, and everything that’s bad for me. More than that, the life he leads is exactly why I’d been on the run.
The seductive and powerful air around him is what drew me in, the reminder of what could have and should have been years ago.
His dark gaze riddled with desire could always see through me. Deep down to the core of what I craved most. To be his.
And so I agreed. I came back. I chose him even when I knew I shouldn’t.
If only it were so easy to forget the past. If only our mistakes didn’t hold on to us, harder and more violently than we could hold on to each other.
ADDISON
I knew when I came back here that I was making a choice. I was choosing Daniel over everything. Over the life I’d live without him and where I’d live it — far away from here and these memories.
Men like him come with those kinds of complications.
Men like him are… There are many words I could use to describe him. The most fundamental statement, though, is so easily admitted and it’s the very reason I chose him.
Men like him need to be loved or the damage will consume them. More than anything. In this cruel world he’s cemented into, with a tragic past and ruthless tasks ahead, he needed to be loved. He still does…
My gaze lingers on what looks like carrots or sweet potatoes, some sort of orange mush in tiny little glass jars. The packs are stacked high on the shelf. The black and white silhouette of a smiling baby stares back at me and I have to push my cart forward, listening to the quiet squeaks of the turning wheels as I think about how I ended up here.
I was reckless, that’s how.
Grocery shopping with Daniel wasn’t one of the things I was considering when I returned to where I grew up. I was thinking of the drugs, the violence, his brothers, and how powerful they’ve become. It wasn’t like this back then. Not at all. It wasn’t this bad. Back then, I thought they’d grow out of it one day. At least that’s what I’d hoped. I didn’t think they’d eventually come to rule this merciless world.
It’s all surreal. Every day since I’ve been back has brought a fear and tension that’s seeping into my every waking moment.
He knows. That’s why I’m here.
Shopping for milk and orange juice feels like a sham. Like for a moment, I can maybe pretend this past week didn’t happen. As if the white noise from the man on the intercom can drown out the sounds of the last six months.
“Feel like you’re playing house, now?” Daniel quips as I stop and watch him settle a jar of salsa, two bags of tortillas, and a case of something else into the half-full cart. His tone is optimistic.
“I didn’t say ‘playing house,’” I correct him and note how cold it feels along with how dull my heart beats.
I wish I could fix my face right now; I wish I could smile and pretend like it’s all fine, like they all do, but it’s not and I’m finding it difficult to hide it from him. Especially after what just happened. I could deal with it; I was dealing with it. But things change. And the past month changed everything.
He doesn’t hide a damn thing from me anymore, so it’d be unfair to hide from him. But what’s left for him to see isn’t what I want to be there.
I’m still staring blankly at the case beneath the bags of chips when his muscular forearm cuts off my vision. His strong hand wraps over mine on the handle of the cart and his other grips my chin, lifting it up. I have to look away from his rolled-up sleeve and into his dark eyes. With his rough stubble in need of a shave, and his hair messy on top, he looks as rough as I feel. Rough looks damn sexy on Daniel Cross though. It always has; it’s who he’s meant to be.
“I know it’s been hard,” he says, and his voice is low and calm, his gaze soft and comforting.
“Hard?” I force a smile to my lips as the bottom one wobbles and he looks past me, dropping his grip on my chin. I’m quick to reach out and take his hand though. I just need to feel him. “I’m sorry,” I tell him quickly. That’s what I am: sorry, pathetic, weak. The list goes on. I knew what he had become. What they had become. And I still chose to come back. I did this. It was my fault. But a lie slips out instead. It’s easier to deal with it if I lie to myself the way he lies to me. “I didn’t know what I was coming back to and it’s been…”
“Hard,” he answers for me.
“Stressful,” I correct him and the tension grows tenfold between us. I look up to my right when I notice motionless figures and feel their eyes on us. My own are pricking, distraught from what’s happened and how much I’m losing.
I can hear the harsh swallow Daniel makes and I watch the cords in his neck tighten as he holds my hand in his. He lifts my hand to his lips and then kisses my knuckles. One by one.
“It’ll be okay,” he whispers against my skin, and all the warmth from those words travels through me, calming me. Making me feel lighter, as if I believe him wholeheartedly.
It doesn’t change what happened.