The clandestine line of love and hate now blurred by lust.
I hated him until I didn’t.
I was indifferent until I wasn’t.
I was content until it all shifted.
Now I’m wanting and I’m afraid of how that morphs going forward.
Hate was our beginning, but that surreptitious line has been erased. Leaving me in a trap I never imagined I’d find myself in.
Love.
Chapter Twenty-One
Rocco
Random fact, my brother is whipped.
Beyond saving.
Tied around the pinky of his new wife like a tattooed thread. Lost to the promise of eternal love.
Companionship. Support. Affection. An endless supply of your preferred pussy.
I don’t blame him. Shit, I’m pleased as fuck for him. He’s happy. An emotion I didn’t see him wear until we barged into Codi’s life; swords of revenge at the ready. Now it rarely shifts. It oozes from his skin, a charged current coursing through his veins, highlighting my own bitterness.
Their ceremony was nice enough, from the snippets I could bring myself to listen to. I felt suffocated by my mother and aunt. My throat closing in panic as Codi walked down the aisle. Their presence was screaming at me, demanding I acknowledge them. I couldn’t though. It was too hard. Parker made it difficult enough, two white roses placed on the front pew in their place. I knew if I looked in that direction, I’d see them. Their smiling faces watching Parker marry his woman. Love in their eyes and joy in their smiles. A moment in his life they should’ve been front and center of.
The church was a path down memory lane I wasn’t ready for. Parker’s heart was in the right place, searching for a way to include Lila in the most important day of his life. I’ve learned the hard way though, the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. Maybe my intentions weren’t exactly good, but they were significant to me. They were important. Still, I all but dug my own path the depths of nothing. Today was just another reminder of that.
I couldn’t stomach staring directly at Parker and Codi either. They were too bright. A glow of happiness surrounding them I couldn’t meet head-on for fear of the damage it could cause.
Then I found Camryn.
A safe harbor I never fucking wanted.
A woman I have no right to.
The Rein family has twisted me up and turned me inside out. I don’t know who the fuck I am anymore. All I knew at that moment was when our eyes connected, a peace hit me. I wasn’t fighting against myself. I felt Lila’s smile, for me. I felt Mira’s joy, for me.
She shifts my perspective. She looks at me like I’m worthy. No one has looked at me with such reverence since my mom. Sure, Mira loved me unconditionally. As does Parker. But their concern for my mental well-being was always clouding their acceptance.
“Why are you hiding around here?”
Speaking of the devil, the soft click of her heels tap against the cement of her father’s driveway.
I knew she was beautiful. Even in grimy work clothes and messy hair, she sends blood straight to my cock. But standing in front of me, body encased in a thick red fabric, her long chocolate hair in waves down her back; she’s that dangerous temptress come to life. Ready to slay me.
“You look good, Rein,” I burr.
“You scrub up alright yourself, Shay.” She sits beside me, the addictive scent of her perfume wrapping around me.
“Where is the happy couple?”
“Mind if I smoke?” she asks, holding up a small pack of cigarettes.
I can’t hide my shock.
“It’s a dirty little habit I partake in very rarely.” She rolls her eyes.
“It’s bad for you.”
“So is coffee and sugar… and you...” She drifts off, placing a smoke between her lips.
Inhaling the nicotine like a potent drug, she smiles, her eyes closing in pleasure. “Parker and Codi are mingling with their guests. Touching one another inappropriately in public and making out in a way that should be illegal in front of others.”
I grimace.
“Tell me about it.” She flicks her cigarette, the loose gray ash vanishing in the blow of wind before it hits the ground.
We attempt to speak at the same time, the awkwardness of the moment lulling us both back into silence.
“Wanna have breakfast tomorrow?” she invites, rubbing the butt of her smoke on the ground to put it out.
“Yeah, beauty.”
She looks pleased by my answer, her shoulder nudging mine in tenderness.
“Beauty,” she repeats. “Does that make you my beast?”
I laugh. “No, Cami.” I lean back, resting my arms behind us, my eyes trailing over her thick strands of hair. I refrain from reaching out and touching them. “The beast is merely misunderstood. He’s a kind heart trapped in ugly wrapping. He’s lonely and looking for purpose.”
She glances at me over her shoulder. My body itches to sit up, to lean forward and claim her mouth. “I’m the opposite. An ugly fucking heart housed in a body that makes you wet,” I whisper. “I’m Gaston, baby, and that ain’t ever gonna change.”
“Gaston was a giant douchebag who wanted to be put on a pedestal,” she argues. “He would’ve fucked himself if he could have. He didn’t want Belle’s love. He wanted the triumph of winning her. She was an object to him. You’re not Gaston. But you’re right, you’re not the beast either.”
Stretching her legs out, she moves her feet side-to-side, watching her brightly colored toenails glitter in the night sky. “You’re lonely though,” she ponders, more to herself than to me. “And you’re always searching for purpose.”
She’s not wrong. Camryn isn’t dumb. She knows I’m searching, she doesn’t know what for, but she knows it’s important enough that I won’t ever stop.
“And your heart isn’t ugly,” she implores. “Different than most, but different is good.”
Her lips purse, a silent contemplation hitting her. “Not Gaston, but not the beast.”
She shakes her head. “You’re Rocco. You have too many layers for a villain in a Disney movie. They’re always fighting for power. You don’t care for power. You fight for what your heart deems is right.”
I pinch her side. “Poetic.”
She laughs. “That one was all my own too. No Dominic influence. He’s rubbing off on me.”
“Or maybe you’re trying too hard to see me as more than I am.”
“Maybe,” she muses. “Can I ask you something?”
I don’t answer, knowing she’ll ask me anyway.
“Do you wish you kissed me back?”
The whispered words freeze between us, caught across the cold night air in expectation.
“No,” I answer honestly.
Bottom lip tipped out, she doesn’t look hurt by my response.
“You didn’t want me to kiss you back,” I explain.
Turning, she faces me, throwing her leg over the bench we’re sitting on, straddling the concrete structure.
I follow her lead.
“You didn’t kiss me out of craving. It wasn’t an attraction that triggered you.”
She looks at the bench between us, her cheeks changing in color before my eyes. “Would you now? Kiss me back? If I did it again.”