“I know.” Suddenly, I was just so freaking tired. All I wanted to do was lay down. “But at least this way we can keep an eye on him. Right?”
He gave a short, dry laugh. “There are other ways of dealing with him.”
“What?” My voice rose and was carried away by the wind. “Daemon, you can’t be thinking…”
“I don’t even know what I’m thinking.” He took a step back. “And dammit, my head is so not in the right place at this moment.” There was a pause. “Why were you with him in the first place?”
My heart lurched. “We were grabbing something to eat and I was—”
“You were what?”
Somehow I felt like I’d walked into an even bigger trap. Unsure of how to answer, I didn’t say anything. That was my biggest mistake.
Understanding dawned, and he tipped his chin up. For an instant, the green of his eyes darkened with raw emotion. “You went to Bryon after…”
After I’d spent the night with him…wrapped in his arms. I shook my head, needing him to understand why I went to see Blake. “Daemon—”
“You know, I’m not really surprised.” His smile was half knowing and half bitter. “We kissed. Twice. You spent the night using me as your own body pillow…and liking it. I’m sure that had you freaking out the moment I left. You ran straight to Boris, because he really doesn’t make you feel anything. And feeling something for me scares the hell out of you.”
My mouth snapped close. “I did not run straight to Blake. He texted me about getting something to eat, and it wasn’t even a date, Daemon. I went to tell him—”
“Then what was it, Kitten?” He stepped forward, peering down at me. “He obviously likes you. You’ve kissed him before. He’s willing to risk his own safety to train you.”
“It’s not what you think. If you’d let me explain…”
“You don’t know what I think,” he snapped.
Something awful unfurled in my stomach. “Daemon—”
“You know, you’re unbelievable.”
I was sure he didn’t mean that in a good way.
“The night of your party, when you thought I was messing around with Ash? You were so pissed that you went outside and blew up windows, exposing yourself.”
I flinched. All true.
“And now you’re doing—what? Messing around with him in between kissing me?”
But I like you. The words wouldn’t leave my lips. I didn’t know why, but I couldn’t say them. Not when he was looking at me, full of anger and distrust and, worse yet, disappointment. “I’m not messing around with him, Daemon! We’re just friends. That’s all.”
Skepticism drew his lips into a tight line. “I’m not stupid, Kat.”
“I didn’t say that you were!” Irritation spiked, overshadowing the deep ache in my chest. “You’re not giving me a chance to explain anything. As usual, you’re acting like a freaking know-it-all and you keep cutting me off!”
“And as usual, you’re a bigger problem than I could’ve ever imagined.”
Flinching as though I’d been slapped, I took a step back. “I’m not your problem.” My voice cracked. “Not anymore.”
Regret seeped through his anger. “Kat—”
“No. I was never your problem in the first place.” Anger sped through me like an out-of-control forest fire. “And I’m sure as hell not your problem now.”
The windows in his eyes to all those emotions slammed shut, leaving me trembling in the dark. And I knew. I knew I’d hurt him more than I thought possible. I’d hurt him in a way much worse than he’d ever hurt me.
“Hell. This”—he waved his hand around me—“isn’t even important right now. Just forget it.”
He was gone before I could even finish my sentence. Stunned, I turned around, but he was nowhere. A pang hit me in the chest and tears filled my eyes as I turned back to my door.
The sudden realization smacked me upside the head.
This whole time, I’d been so busy pushing him away, telling him whatever was between us wasn’t real. And now that I’d realized the depth of what he felt for me—what I felt for him—he was gone.
Chapter 19
All morning and part of the afternoon, I poked around the house like a zombie. There was this weird throbbing in my chest. My eyes ached as if they were filled with tears that wouldn’t fall. It reminded me of the months after Dad’s death.
With my heart not really in it, I did a quick review on this dystopian novel I’d read last week and closed my laptop. Lying down, I stared at the spider web of cracks in my bedroom ceiling. The truth was hard to face. I’d been trying to deny it all morning. A jumbled knot of clogged emotions had formed under my ribs last night and it was still there. Every so often it seemed heavier, more intense.
I liked Daemon—really, really liked him.
I’d been so caught up nursing my hurt over the way he’d acted when we first met that I’d been blind to my growing feelings, to what I wanted, and to how he felt. And now what? Daemon, who never backed down from anything, had walked away before allowing me to explain anything.
There was no escaping it. I’d hurt him.
Rolling over, I shoved my face into the pillow. His scent was still there. I clutched it tightly and closed my eyes. How had things gotten so tangled up? At what point had my life turned into some bizarre science fiction soap opera?