Especially me.
I’d never done anything to her. I was always punctual, polite, hard-working.
But no matter what I did, nothing was ever good enough.
“What makes you think I want something from you, Mr. Clark?”
I leaned toward her, not caring if anyone saw. “I don’t think. I know. Call it instinct.”
She cocked her head with a gleam in her gaze. “Well, your instincts are wrong.”
“They’re never wrong.”
Backing away, making it seem like she needed to put the marker back on the whiteboard, she said, “I’m merely advising you not to spend so much time chasing after Olin Moss. Now run along, Mr. Clark. Best behave yourself if you want to finish school sometime this century.”
I wanted to kill her.
Honest to God murder her with my bare hands around her evil throat.
Instead, I nodded, and with tightly leashed fury, muttered, “Thank you, Ms Tallup.”
It took everything I had to stalk from the classroom, bolt down the corridor, and suck in a breath as green grass and late afternoon sunshine welcomed me.
Olin.
I needed Olin.
I needed the one girl who made my world bearable even while making it that much harder.
Chapter Seventeen
______________________________
Olin
-The Present-
“SO...” GIL SHOVED his hands into his jeans pockets as we stood beneath the faded stars outside his warehouse.
“So.” I licked my lips, smoothing down my skirt, very aware that I hadn’t rinsed off and a combination of him and me made my thighs sticky.
His face shadowed with night and emotional darkness. Only one street light existed this far down the warehouse precinct, and its light was futile at chasing back the gloom. The moon was no help, tucked into bed behind wispy clouds where only brave stars peeked from behind.
He sighed as if struggling with what to say.
How did we discuss what happened in there? How did we walk away?
I slung my handbag over my shoulder and leaped into conversation for him. “What just happened, Gil....It was—”
“A mistake.” He dragged a shaky hand through his hair. “I don’t know how I could let that happen.”
Temper heated me. “It wasn’t just you, you know.”
He glowered at the ground.
“And how dare you call it a mistake.” I tried to curb my frustration. “It was amazing. Exactly like I knew it would be between us. It—”
“Won’t happen again.”
My heart fell. I’d stupidly thought we’d gotten past whatever was keeping us apart. I’d hoped...
I’d stupidly hoped things would magically fix themselves just because we had sex.
I’m an idiot.
“We can discuss this another day.” I shrugged, wincing as my hair tugged under my handbag strap. “When you’re not so...”
His gaze met mine, narrowed and guarded. “Not so drunk?”
“I wasn’t going to bring it up, but yes. You’re drunk and dealing with things that you refuse to tell me.” I crossed my arms. “You asked me to be your canvas tonight, but instead of finding a professional painter, I found you intoxicated.”
“You were late.”
My chin flew up. “You were somewhere else.”
“How the fuck do you know where I’ve been?” He pinched the bridge of his nose, groaning under his breath. “Sorry. I just...shit.” He shook his head as if doing his best to dispel the tainting liquor.
“Where have you been, Gil?” My question was as quiet as the silver moon peeking from the wisps. My gaze travelled to the paint splatter on his hands and the combination of grass and dirt on his clothes.
Maybe Justin was right to be worried about him. Maybe he needed more help than I could provide.
What made him turn to a bottle today?
Why didn’t he turn to me?
“Why were you drinking? You said you’d never be like—”
“Don’t.” He held up his hand. “Don’t ask questions I can’t answer.”
Guilt squeezed that I hadn’t been there for him. Hadn’t been able to find him sooner.
He wasn’t my responsibility. He’d knocked me out and been nothing but complicated since we’d found each other.
But it didn’t change facts.
I would always have feelings for this man.
A kaleidoscope of them.
Undeniable and not fading anytime soon.
“You know I won’t judge you for anything, right?” I shifted closer. “You can trust—”
“Stop.” He bared his teeth, backing up. The alcohol made him harsher, eradicating the decorum he’d done his best to cling to. “It’s time for you to go, Olin.”
I ignored him. “Do you still need to paint me tonight?”
His half-smile tangled with a sneer. “Do I look capable of painting you?”
I didn’t want to answer that.
Didn’t want to admit that he looked as destitute in his soul as he did in possessions. His eyes were vacant but crowded at the same time—a haunted expression blending with depression. The mess on his clothing made him unsuitable for normal society. The twig knotted in his hair depicted him as something wild. The mud contouring his cheekbone said he’d either gone for a hike in the wilderness or fought a monster.
The only problem was, he acted as if the monster was him.
The one who didn’t deserve kindness and togetherness—the one who did his best to ruin what’d just happened between us because he didn’t know how to accept the inevitable.
We’d always been made for each other.
Time had ripped us apart, but fate had brought us back.
Too bad he couldn’t accept such a gift.
“Do you want to reschedule for tomorrow?” I asked softly.
His eyes flashed. “You’re not allowed back here.”
“But what about the commission?”
His entire body shuddered as if unable to brace against colossal pain. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Why?” My stomach churned. “Surely, a day’s delay won’t make a—”
“It’s over.” His lips snapped shut, stark fear seeping into his face. Coughing, he straightened his shoulders and hid any trace of terror. “It had to be done today. This afternoon.” Anger tinged his tone. “I couldn’t deliver because my canvas was off earning minimum wage working for someone else.”
I froze. “The alcohol is making you crueller than normal.”
“Or allowing me to be honest.”
“I don’t believe that. I also don’t believe you’re truly blaming me for this.”
“If you’d been here sooner, I might’ve—”
“I had commitments, Gil,” I snapped. “I told you that.”
He growled under his breath, burying his face into his hands.
I promised I’d be there for him.
No matter what.
Not able to bear the tension between us, I touched his shoulder. “Do you need money? I don’t have much. In fact, I barely have anything, but it’s yours if you need it.” My rent was due tomorrow. My electricity bill the next day. My pantry was empty and my fridge might as well be switched off to save on power because it never held much these days.