Live For Me (Page 32)

Live For Me (Blurred Lines #2)(32)
Author: Erin McCarthy

“What?”

“I’m a virgin,” I repeated. “I thought you should know.” Lamest. Sentence. Ever.

I bit my lip, crossing my legs without even realizing I was going to. The movement trapped his hand between my thighs. His Adam’s apple shifted as he swallowed hard.

“I-

Then he shook his head, like he’d changed his mind about whatever he’d intended to say. Extracting his hand he reached for his wine glass on the floor, but it was empty. “I need a drink.” Sitting back, he took a deep breath, like he was steadying himself, then stood and went toward the kitchen, glass in hand. His jeans were resting low on his hips, his feet bare, the muscles of his back flexing as he rolled his neck, like he needed to work out some tension.

I watched him, heart racing. Wow. I had completely and totally screwed that up.

Unable to just lie there mostly naked, I yanked my panties up first, then kicked my jeans completely off, so I could turn them right side in and put them back on. My phone was buzzing again, so I retrieved it from the pocket and checked it. I had five texts. The first two were apologies from Cat. The next asked me to call her. It was the fourth one that made me sit up.

Your grandma is in the hospital. She wants to see you.

The last text had the information of where she was staying. It was on the mainland about twenty minutes from Richfield.

My hand was shaking as I answered Cat.

What happened?

I don’t know. But the neighbors called me looking for you.

Ok, thanks.

Let me know if you need me to do anything.

Dropping my phone for a second, I fixed my bra and pulled my sweater back on.

Devin came back into the room, sipping from the glass in his right hand, the whole bottle in his left. It seemed it was a Merlot moment. He eyed my movements as I slipped my feet into the legs of my jeans.

“Are we done?”

It sounded rude. It was rude. I lifted my butt up and yanked them the rest of the way. “That was my impression since you left the room.”

“I was thirsty.”

“You were horrified,” I shot back.

“I was caught off guard. You could have shared that little piece of information sooner.”

“When is a good time to tell someone that?” I asked, annoyed. So I was a virgin. What the hell did he expect? As he kept pointing out to me, I was an infant. In fact, I actually felt like I might cry. I searched the floor for the shoes I’d kicked off. “When you kissed me? Over dinner last week? Should I have put it on my job application?”

“Don’t be a brat, it doesn’t suit you.” he said. “I went in the kitchen to absorb what you just told me. Don’t act like I hired you thinking I could nail you. I wasn’t even here.”

“You’re right.” I stood up, shoes on and went for my coat. “You were in the city f**king Amazing Abs Brooke. I’m sorry if it unnerves you that I haven’t been f**king someone too.” It felt nasty and mean to be swearing at him, but I couldn’t stop myself. I was worried about my grandmother, and I was pissed at him for abandoning me in the midst of my confession. It was hard for me to share what was going on inside, and I had needed his reassurance, not his horror.

I’d already shared so much of myself with him that maybe giving everything was more frightening that I expected. Maybe I was terrified of rejection and this felt pretty damn close to rejection.

He paused in the middle of tossing back the rest of the liquid in his glass. “I expect better from you than crazy.”

The words shamed me. He was right. I was being childish. “If I knew what I was doing, I wouldn’t be a virgin. And how could you not know anyway? It seems implied to me.”

Devin sighed. He put the bottle down on the end table. “I didn’t even think about it one way or the other. It’s been a long time since I encountered a virgin.”

Well. “So I’m a dying breed?”

“You’re young,” he shot back. “A fact I’m both keenly aware of and repeatedly try to ignore. But I’m glad you told me. We can slow it down. I don’t want to do something you’ll regret.” Then he gave me a rueful smile. “I don’t want to do something I’ll regret. Maybe this isn’t the right thing for us, right now. Maybe we need to retreat a bit.”

He didn’t mean it the way it sounded. I didn’t think. But it felt like a second rejection and I felt like an idiot. I couldn’t look at him knowing he’d seen me naked, knowing the sounds I had made, the places his tongue had been.

“I need to go. My grandmother is in the hospital.”

“What?” He looked at me blankly.

“My grandmother is in the hospital. Cat just texted me. I need to go see her.”

“Why? She hasn’t spoken to you in what, three months?”

“She asked to see me,” I said simply.

“So? She treated you like shit, Tiffany. You don’t owe her anything.”

I knew that. But he couldn’t understand and I didn’t expect him to understand. His family had been loving, supportive, and he took that for granted. A part of me would always crave my grandmother’s affection, approval. Need wasn’t the same as love, but that she thought of me when she was ill mattered. Besides, if I turned my back on her, if I said screw it, and gave in to anger, detachment, than how was I any better than her? I wanted to be a good person, compassionate, regardless of what was said or done to me. That was the standard I held for myself, the way I’d managed to survive all those years. I wouldn’t give in to hatred.

“I know I don’t owe her anything. But she’s the only family I have. If she wants to see me, I need to go.”

Devin studied me for a second, than shook his head. “All right. Do what you need to do. Where is she? I’ll drive you there.”

“Thank you.” There was a pit in my stomach as he put his shirt on, then sat on the couch and pulled his socks over his feet.

I was worried about my grandmother. How would I feel if she died? What if I couldn’t see her first? I pictured her face, the frown she always gave me. It didn’t seem possible that someone so filled with negative emotion would ever find peace, yet I wanted that for her. I hoped this was just a scare that would show her she needed to appreciate her life. That it would allow her to live better.

For the first time since Devin had gotten back to Richfield I felt uncomfortable around him. His movements were purposeful, arrogant. He didn’t comfort me. He didn’t reach for me. He didn’t hold me and stroke my hair and tell me everything would be okay. The tenderness he’d shown briefly had evaporated with my pronouncement and I knew him well enough to know what he was thinking- he didn’t want to deal with a virgin. He knew it would mean too much to me. He knew I would attach.