Page 33 of Creeping Beautiful

“Earlier you said you went to his house. His old house. But you knew he was in LA. So you went to some old house in LA?”

“Oh.” She thinks about this for a moment. “I guess I did. I… must’ve forgotten.”

I don’t push her any further. There’s no point. Donovan is on his way.

“Are you tired?” I study the look on her face. It’s one of confusion. She’s thinking about my comment. “Do you wanna sleep, Indie? Donovan won’t be here for a while.”

“Will you sleep with me?”

I shake my head but don’t state the rejection outright.

“Why not?”

“Just… it’s not appropriate. We’ve been over this a million times.”

She gets up from the couch and walks towards me with a sly smirk on her face. I back up instinctively, but bump into the table. And there’s no easy way to get away from her without it looking obvious. So I stay there and wait until she’s right in front of me, her head tilted up to mine, her fingers playing with the fabric of my t-shirt until she’s got it bunched up in her fists just under my arms.

“Do I make you nervous?”

I nod. “Yeah.” Then I take both her hands and remove her grip from my shirt. “And you know why. So knock it off.”

She smiles at me, then turns and walks back to the couch to grab another piece of pizza. “Your excuses don’t hold water anymore, McKay.”

“They’re not excuses.”

“You don’t love me, then?”

“You know I love you.”

“Just… not like that.”

“Indie…” I close my eyes and rub my hand over them.

“What? You’ve been selling me this same line of bullshit since I was seventeen.”

“Because you were seventeen. And I was…”

“You’re not my father. And you’re not my brother, either.”

“It’s just not right.”

“Who cares? If we love each other.”

That’s not even what I mean. But I can’t explain that to her. At least… not until Donovan gets here.

I got over the age difference between us a long time ago. And I do love her. I would like nothing more than to take her to bed and hold her all fucking night long.

Just… not when she’s like this.

It’s not right.

And the whole thing between us—all of us. It’s very fucking complicated. Adam wants one thing, I want another, and Donovan? Well, I have no clue what that guy wants. But somehow I doubt it’s anything like what Adam wants, and that’s the only part of this that matters.

“Do you want me to go?”

“No. Don’t be silly. I don’t want you to go.”

“Why, though? Why do you want me here? If you’re not going to let me touch you.”