Page 76 of Unhinged

There was no question in his tone, and she shifted uneasily, acutely aware of his intense scrutiny. “Well, I went over to his place and⁠—”

“I thought you were going to stop encouraging him.”

Disapproval drenched his words and irritation flared within her. “I actually stopped by to tell him that I wanted to focus on my relationship with you. I never pegged you for the possessive type.”

“Only when some idiot is trying to seduce my girlfriend,” he shot back.

She hesitated, the breath stolen from her lungs. “Is that what I am?”

He speared her with a look of disbelief. “I thought we’d established that.”

“We never talked about it.”

“I assumed you felt the same way.” His eyes narrowed, his tone accusing.

“I…” It was exactly what she wanted, wasn’t it? Thoughts whirled through her mind and she fought to focus. “That really isn’t the point right now.”

“Are you kidding me? Of course it is!” He threw his arms wide. “Why do you think I get so pissed about this whole thing? No guy wants to see his girlfriend with another man, Hannah. I know he’s your friend, but we can’t go on like this. All he’s done since day one is try to coerce you away from me. That’s not something a friend would do. If he cared about you at all, he would want you to be happy.”

“He does want me to be happy. You’re the one who’s trying to isolate me from my friends.”

“That’s not true,” he countered, pointing a finger her way. “Just him. I don’t know what it is, but I don’t like him.”

“Please,” she huffed. “You’re just jealous and want me all to yourself. Why does it matter so much to you?”

“Because I love you!” Luke raked his fingers through his hair and turned away.

She froze, her heart constricting in her chest. Hearing him say he loved her filled her with a combination of elation and trepidation. She needed time to process everything and break it down rationally. “No, you don’t. You can’t.”

He turned to her, a sad smile on his face. “I do.” She automatically recoiled even as his voice gentled and he reached for her. “You were made for me. You feel it too, sweetheart, I know you do. We fit; we belong together. I love you and you love me.”

“You don’t love me, Luke. It’s just the stress from the past few weeks, and…” She shook her head. “We wouldn’t even be together if I hadn’t gotten that phone call.”

“Who cares how we met? All that matters is you and me. We’re here now, together. I need you, Hannah.”

She took a step backward and wrapped her arms around her waist. Maybe it was a hero complex—maybe the attachment they’d formed had been born from that alone. “I understand you think you need me, but you don’t. It’s not healthy to feel that way about someone. In a lot of traumatic experiences, people form a special bond. But it’s easy to perceive that shared empathy as love. What’s between us isn’t⁠—”

“I know how I feel.” He cut her off, his tone firm and resolute. “Just because you refuse to acknowledge it doesn’t mean it’s not true. No amount of persuasion on your part will ever convince me that I’m not in love with you. My feelings won’t change—not ever.”

“I… I think you should go.” She pulled her arms tighter against herself, afraid that she’d fly apart if she loosened her hold even the tiniest bit.

His eyes implored her to listen. “You let him plant that seed of doubt, Hannah, don’t you see? This is exactly what he wants. He wants you to doubt me, to walk away from what we have. But you know me. And deep down you know I love you—that I will always love you. The truth is, you’re afraid. You don’t want to admit you love me, too. And that’s what scares you the most.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I don’t love you.”

He pulled one hand free where it was tucked against her chest. She half-heartedly tried to pull back but surrendered, looking away to hide the mist gathering in her eyes. He placed a kiss on her palm before releasing her.

“When you finally start listening to your heart, you’ll know the truth.”

With a sad smile, Luke turned and walked out the door.

CHAPTER

THIRTY-FIVE

The man drummed his fingers on the expensive desk and stared out the window. He should feel happy. He should be content. Instead, he felt restless… incomplete.

He brushed his thumb lightly over his upper lip. It still felt strange sometimes to not feel the gap that had once split his mouth. Adult skin wasn’t as resilient as children’s, but the scar cream they’d given him after the surgery had worked wonders. Though the flesh had been healed for several years now, he’d continued to use it. Maybe it was all in his mind, but he was terrified of being associated with the boy he’d left thousands of miles and many years behind.