Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 107670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Something about her tone made his hackles rise. “Harley.”
“I’m gonna take a shower.” Grabbing her robe, she pushed past him and shut herself in the bathroom.
Jesse flinched at the snick of the lock. She hadn’t even slammed the door to make a statement, and that worried him more than if she’d yelled at him. This wasn’t a tantrum. This wasn’t rage. He’d hurt her.
Pressing his forehead and fist against the bathroom door, he closed his eyes. “Harley . . .” But he had no idea what to fucking say. No idea what to do. His wolf began to pace, anxious. Shit, he needed some air.
Standing under the hot spray of the shower, Harley swallowed past the lump of emotion in her throat. She refused to let it escape. Refused to shed the tears welling up in her eyes. She’d expected him to find it hard to speak of Torrie, even expected him to be reluctant to do so, but she hadn’t expected the harsh dismissal.
She’s a subject we won’t touch.
It wasn’t even so much what he’d said as the way he’d said it. Like she wasn’t privy to his memories of Torrie. Like she had no right to ask him to share them. His eyes, his tone, his expression—all of it had been so cold.
Hey, Harley respected that people carried wounds, and she respected their right to withhold their pain. And if Jesse hadn’t insisted on claiming her, and if so much wasn’t riding on his ability to fully open up, she wouldn’t be so cut up about it. But how could he demand that she claim him, that she give him everything she had to give, and then keep a part of himself separate?
No, he didn’t get to ask Harley for everything but then only give her the parts he chose. She wanted the broken parts too. Wanted all of him. And Torrie was a part of him—the other half of his soul. If he couldn’t share that part of himself, Torrie’s memory would effectively become a barrier between them.
Maybe a part of him needed that barrier. Maybe he was hiding behind it, not wanting to risk feeling that depth of pain ever again. Harley didn’t know. She did know that she’d been wrong about her place in his heart. She wasn’t wedged as deep as she’d thought, wasn’t as vital to him as she’d clearly fooled herself into believing. And now she didn’t know what to do about it.
She could cut her losses and leave. But she knew what would happen if she did. Jesse would tell her what she wanted to know, sure, but he’d do it for the wrong reason. It wouldn’t be him lowering his walls. It would be him doing what he had to do to make her stay—and doing it begrudgingly. That wouldn’t fix anything.
She could stay, giving him the time to see for himself what he needed to do to make imprinting work. But she’d, all the while, be aware that he didn’t care for her as much as she’d thought, aware that she cared for him more than he did her. That would eat at her and twist her up inside, though not enough to grow to hate him . . . which was a shame, because that would have made it easy for her to go.
So what the fuck should she do? God help her, she didn’t have a clue. Her cat was just as mixed up about the whole thing. Harley did know that making such a decision while her emotions were running high would be a bad idea. Harley never made good decisions while she was hurt or pissed. And there wasn’t a lot she could do at this late hour anyway.
Tomorrow. She’d figure it out tomorrow. One thing she was sure of was that if she did decide to go, she’d need to have the words to make him understand that it was best for both of them. If she couldn’t get him on the same wavelength, he’d just harass her to stay. And she was weak enough to do just that, hating to hurt him when he was already so wounded.
Stepping out of the shower, she quickly dried off and pulled on her robe. Opening the bathroom door, she found an empty bedroom. The bastard hadn’t just dismissed her; he’d left her. With a low growl, she exchanged her robe for shorts and a tank top before sliding into bed. It took a while for the chaos in her mind to calm, but eventually sleep crept up on her.
She was half asleep when a solid body curved around hers and one hand splayed over her stomach. Ignoring him, she forced herself to relax. She’d need her sleep to deal with him tomorrow.
Jesse woke up alone. It took only mere moments before memories of the previous night pushed to the forefront of his mind. A sick feeling took hold in his stomach. He’d fucked up last night. Slammed up his guard and, in doing so, hurt the one person who shouldn’t have to fear he’d ever hurt her. If he’d just calmly explained he didn’t want to talk about Torrie, Harley probably would have accepted that. But no, he’d been unnecessarily cold.