He was a master at making me care. A magician at making me believe he cared in return.
I’d once again lost all my power because Gil had kissed me when I’d wanted space. He’d encroached on my home when all I wanted was time apart.
He sucked up all the air and suffocated me of all my choices.
And still I couldn’t say no.
My chin tipped up as true anger filled me. Anger at not knowing a thing about him, his past, his present, his secrets. Anger that was done waiting for answers.
Questions crawled up my throat and burned my tongue. I spat them out as if we’d been having a fight, not indulging in an explosive kiss. “Enough. No more.” I slashed my hand through the air. “You don’t get to ask a single thing about me...not unless you’re prepared to trade.”
“Trade?” His nostrils flared. The passion between us slipped into something lethal.
“You say I’m lonely.” I looked him up and down tauntingly. “Yet you’re the saddest person I’ve ever met.”
His entire body tensed, filling with threats. “Olin...be careful.”
“You ask if I struggled. But you won’t tell me what you struggle with.”
His throat worked as he swallowed. “I’m warning you.”
“Justin said something happened—”
“Justin?” His snarl made me slam my lips together. “What the fuck did Justin say?”
Shit.
“Nothing. Only that—”
“Justin doesn’t know anything about me.”
“He knows something happened. Just like I know—”
“Neither of you have a fucking clue.”
“You say that as if you’re proud that you’ve kept two people who care about you in the dark.”
“Proud, no. Grateful, yes.” His eyes flashed. “You don’t need to know. You can’t know.”
“You’re right. I don’t need to know. No one needs to know anything about someone. But we were friends once, and we’re playing with fire now. The logical step is to learn about each other.”
“It’s not logical. Nothing about this is logical.”
“I agree.” I winced from the pain in his voice. “There’s nothing logical about you knocking me out for calling the police on a legitimate crime. There’s nothing logical about why I keep forgiving your attitude. There’s nothing logical about asking me to stay with you for three days without any other explanation other than my life is in danger.”
“That’s the best reason to obey me.”
“But not the easiest.”
“You used to trust me.” His voice was measured and cold.
“Yeah, and look where that got me!” My anger soared, pushing my voice up an octave.
His deepened into danger. “What the hell is going on here?”
“What do you mean?”
“How did this happen?” He waved his hand back and forth between us as if he could physically touch the burning, bleeding battle we’d created. “How did we go from kissing to being at war?”
“I’ve reached my limit. I want to know what you’re hiding.”
He cocked an eyebrow in a measured, chilly move. “You’re crazy if you think I’m going to tell you anything—”
“You think I’m the crazy one?”
He nodded, crossing his arms. “Certifiable.”
My mouth fell open.
He wanted to play that game? Name-call and ridicule to avoid discussing topics about himself?
Fine.
“Who’s Olive, Gil?”
I braced myself for an explosion. I willingly poured gasoline on the fire. I was jealous of his dream. Jealous of another O. An O he obviously cared about, adored, loved, missed.
He missed that girl with every molecule of his body, and if I wasn’t that girl he dreamed about, then I was wasting my time.
I refused to put myself through the agony. I utterly prohibited myself from falling any further if there wasn’t the tiniest, slimmest chance that I might win in the end.
That I might crack Gil’s arctic shell.
That I might earn his complicated love.
But I wasn’t prepared for the lashing, slicing silence that cloaked him, shutting him down piece by piece. His face went dead. His body carved from glaciers. Only his eyes glowed, and they glimmered with a thousand poisonous emeralds. “Where did you hear that name?” His voice was measured and methodical, terrifying in its iciness.
I’d faced his wrath. I’d fought his passion. I’d submitted to his commands.
But standing before him while the temperature plummeted and his jaw ticked with snow, I didn’t know how to breathe. Didn’t know what to say or how to fix this.
I’d screwed up.
Majorly.
And I didn’t fully understand why.
Goosebumps darted all over me as I sidestepped toward the living room. “Forget it. I made a mistake.”
He stared at me as if I was a stranger, letting me inch away from his frigid fury.
But then, he stalked toward me.
I raised my hands in surrender, backing away. “Gil...don’t.”
His brow tugged over furious eyes. “Where did you hear that name?”
“You had a nightmare. The night I stayed at your place.” I dodged around the dining room table. “I overheard you.”
For a second, sheer relief shone on his face, but it was followed swiftly by more rage. “You spied on me?”
“You kidnapped me.” My fingers latched around a scruffy wooden chair, using it as a shield.
“I’m protecting you.”
“I don’t want protecting.”
“Well, too fucking bad!”
My head cocked. “What are you protecting me from?”
He shuddered as if I’d asked the hardest question in the world. “Everything.”
“Not everything.” My heart pounded as I studied his unreadable pose. Give him a sword and he looked ready to smite me down.
He froze, predator still and ready to pounce. “What the hell does that mean?”
I’d picked this fight. I couldn’t back down even though my knees trembled. “You might be protecting me from things I don’t know, but you’re doing a terrible job of protecting me from you.”
His teeth gnashed together. “I’m not the dangerous one.”
I laughed cynically. “You’ve always been the most dangerous one. To me.”
“What do you want from me, Olin?” His sigh was endlessly heavy. “You push me until I snap. You taunt me until I retaliate. You’re not supposed to be in my life, yet you barged in anyway.” His eyes flashed. “This is your fault. You made it all so fucking complicated.”
“You’re blaming me for all of this?”
He nodded, moving forward and stopping in front of my chair-shield. “All of it.”
“Including the mess you’re in with the guy who beats you up?”
His eyes snapped closed while he inhaled patience as his shoulders slouched in defeat. “No. That’s on me.”
“What’s on you?”
He smiled sadly. “A punishment I can’t bear.”
I stopped breathing. “What punishment, Gil?” Inching out from behind my chair, I dared put my hand on his rigid forearm. “You know you can talk to me, right?” I wanted to ask him if I was the O he dreamed of. If I still haunted him like he haunted me.