-HINDLEY-
I scooted closer to Rory on the couch, snuggling into his body. “This is nice.”
“What?” he asked, draping his arm over my shoulder, tightening his hold on me.
“Sitting here, on the couch, watching a movie with you. It seems so, regular.”
“You like regular?” he asked with a hint of sarcasm.
“Sometimes, I love regular.” I knelt up and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Sometimes.”
His eyes shined with playfulness. I could get lost in him.
I wanted to live with Rory more than anything in the world, but too much was up in the air right now to commit to him. I sat back down and snuggled into his huge frame, laying my head on his chest and inhaling his delicious scent. Times like these were rare for us.
The ding from the microwave broke our moment. “Popcorn’s ready.” He set me aside and stood.
“Awe,” I whimpered.
“I’ll be right back, babe.” He reached down and took my face in his hands and gave me a light peck on the lips. It was a small gesture but it meant so much. “What do you want to drink?” he yelled from the kitchen.
“What do you have?” I looked over the sofa, admiring his muscular body. He was wearing the same pajama pants from earlier, but now he had a snug T-shirt covering his torso. I smiled at what lay underneath. I wasn’t sure I’d make it through the entire movie without trying to lick every inch of him again.
“Lemonade, tea, milk, or water?”
“Chocolate milk?” I snickered, raising my eyebrows.
He straightened up from the refrigerator and turned to look at me. “That could be arranged, Miss Hagen.”
“Better not.” I laughed. “I want to watch the movie. How about lemonade, please?”
“One lemonade, coming right up.”
I watched as he gracefully moved around the kitchen, piling the popcorn in a bowl, filling our glasses with ice and mixing the lemonade.
A chiming sound echoed through the room.
“It’s my cell.” He nodded toward the coffee table. “Who is it?”
I picked up the phone but the number said ‘Unknown.’ “It doesn’t say.”
“Answer it, please.”
“Okay.” He was giving me a lot of trust by letting me handle his cell phone. The thought made me smile. “Hello?” No one answered. “Hello?” I repeated.
“Shelly?” a woman asked.
“Who?”
“Is this Shelly?”
“No. I’m sorry, I think you have the wrong number?”
“Is Rory there?”
Oh, no. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks. What if Shelly was an ex-girlfriend, an ex-lover? What if this chick was? Who was she and why was she calling him from an unlisted number? And how the fuck did she even have his number? My stomach cramped and my hands broke out with sweat as the green monster of jealousy spread through my veins. I’d never felt this possessive before in all my life.
“Yes,” I said flatly. “Hold on please.” I stood to take the phone to Rory, but he was already standing in front of me. He stared at me in confusion.
I held out the phone toward him. “It’s for you.”
“Who is it?” he asked, setting the bowl and drinks down on the coffee table.
“I don’t know, she didn’t say.”
His fingers folded around mine as he covered the mouthpiece. “Are you all right?”
“She asked if I was Shelly.”
His face went ashen. His crystal blue eyes grew darker with every passing second and his fingers twitched as he slowly took the phone from my hand. Turning his back on me, he stalked away from the sofa.
“How the fuck did you get this number?” he seethed.
I shivered as I realized my worst fears were coming true. This was a psycho ex-girlfriend. Maybe he had asked this woman to live with him too. No, he wouldn’t have talked to her that way if he had. The battling dialogue in my head was making me nauseous.
“I don’t give a fuck what’s wrong with you,” he growled into the phone. “I told you not to ever call me again.” His voice grew louder with every syllable.
There was silence as I stared at his back. Every muscle tensed under his shirt as a small trail of sweat rolled down his neck. It was clear he didn’t care for whoever it was on the phone.
“No, she’s not Shelly, you psycho bitch. Forget you ever knew me and leave me the fuck alone or I swear to God, I’ll kill you and that sorry piece of shit you call a husband with my bare hands.”
I gasped in shock, dumbfounded by his words. I’d never heard him talk this way to anyone. Ever.
He turned to face me.
I stood in stunned silence at the image of the man standing before me. This wasn’t Rory Gregor, and for the first time in his presence, I was afraid of him.
He still held the phone to his face. “You can tell them whatever the fuck you want to, you crazy-ass bitch, but you’re still not going to get a fucking dime from me. Don’t ever call me again or I will kill you.” He drew the phone away from his face, glaring at the screen as if whoever was on the phone was visible.
What was happening?
I jumped when he let out a blood-curdling cry and hurled the phone across the room.
I watched in horror as it crashed into the wall, shattering into a million pieces. I cut my eyes back to his. He was possessed, a completely different man, and I was scared shitless.
He stalked past me, sliding the glass door to the balcony open and disappearing into the night.
I stood silently, paralyzed. How had we gone from a fun-loving domestic moment to this in less than two minutes? And who the hell was that on the phone? He’d threatened to kill her, and his tone seemed like he was telling the truth. I truly feared for the woman’s safety. This was bad, really bad, worse than what I was going through with Axel.
I wondered what, if anything I should do next. I was familiar enough with Rory now to know I had to let him cool off. It was never wise to push him.
I went to clean up the mess made by the shattered phone. After I’d picked up the larger pieces by hand, I walked to the kitchen and pillaged through the closet, searching for a broom to sweep up the smaller fragments. As I shut the door, my eyes swept over the living room and I saw Rory standing in the doorway leading out to the patio. His face was still void of color, but his expression at least revealed that my Rory had returned, barely.
I knew that look. He was ready to talk.
I set the broom and dustpan down and made my way across the great expanse of the living room, coming to stand in front of him. The cool night air made me shiver.
He took me in his arms, kissing my head and rubbing my back to warm me. “I’m sorry,” he whispered into my hair.
I wrapped my arms around his waist and stroked his back, trying to soothe him as he always did me.
“Come on,” he said, dragging me inside and closing the door behind us. “You’re cold.”
He was right, I was cold, but not from the weather. My Rory was back, but not all of him.
“Let’s go to bed.”
He didn’t want to talk and I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to push him, but I had to know what was going on. “Wait.” I pulled him back.
He turned to face me. Some of the color was returning to his beautiful face, but his eyes were as dark as the night sky.
I reached up to stroke his face, caressing his cheek with my thumb. “I love you.” I lifted up on my toes and placed a light kiss on his lips.
He grabbed my face and pressed his lips into mine with a painful urgency.
I knew what he was doing. It was how he handled difficult situations. Sex. This time was different though. I couldn’t let him escape, not like this. I pushed him away with all my strength and broke our embrace.
He stood back and stared at me with a furrowed brow, stunned by my reaction.
“No, Rory.”
“What the fuck?”
“I know what you’re doing.”
“What?”
“You’re trying to soothe yourself with sex. Normally, I’m okay with that. But this time is different.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Because you became a different person just now. One I don’t know. I don’t want to go to bed with that man. You need to talk to me and tell me what’s going on. I’m not going to force you, but I’m not going to make love with you until you calm down and explain all this.”
He was wounded, but I didn’t care. This situation was too important and I couldn’t let him escape with no justification, not this time.
“Who’s Shelly?”
He looked at me as if I’d slapped him across the face, and just like that, dark Rory returned. He was shutting me out.
“Rory,” I pleaded, reaching out to rub his arm.
He yanked it back as if I was the most disgusting person on earth.
“Who is she?” I asked again.
“She’s none of your fucking business, that’s who she is,” he shouted at me.
Okay, I could understand. This was really, really painful for him and I’d pushed him too far. This part was my fault. He needed time. I walked around him, making my way up the stairs.
“Where the fuck are you going?”
I glanced back at him. He was a lost little boy trapped in a grown man’s body, but unless he asked for help, there was nothing I could do to reach him.
“I’m going to bed. If you want to talk, you know where I am.” I made my way painfully and grudgingly up the stairs, hoping he would follow, but not surprised when I looked down over the balcony and saw he was gone.
The slamming of the front door was the last thing I heard as I dragged myself down the long hallway and threw myself across his massive bed, shedding a lifetime of tears for my lost boy.