Medicine Man - Page 99

“I have a right, Simon,” I tell him resolutely, like I’m standing in a storm and refusing to back down from the thunder. “To know. And to ask.”

I straighten my spine and clench my stomach. Maybe it will hurt less until we get to the point where he actually gives in and tells me.

Simon cocks his head to the side, as if genuinely curious. “What makes you think that? That you have a right to know anything.”

“B-because you bought the books.”

Because you love me. And I love you.

I still can’t believe he did that. I can’t believe he never said anything about it. At the library when I told him about thanking Josie and Beth, he didn’t say anything. He didn’t even mention it.

But that’s the thing, isn’t it? Simon never says anything. And if there was ever an epitome of actions speak louder than words, then this is it.

“What?”

“You bought those Harry Potter books.”

“So?”

I close my eyes for a second before saying, “For me. You bought them for me.”

“So?”

God, why does he have to be so wordless, though? Why can’t he just admit it, make it easy? His stare is so lifeless and dead. As if I might be speaking in tongues. As if he doesn’t understand me.

Why is he making me fight like this?

I’m so tired of fighting. For him. For everything.

I wipe my nose with the back of my hand and blink my tear-stained eyes. “So, it means that there’s something between us. You…” Another wipe of my nose, another blink of my eyes. “You have feelings for me and I have feelings for you too. I’ve always had them.”

As soon as I say these words, I know I’ve made a terrible mistake. It’s like watching history repeat itself.

Wasn’t I here only a couple of weeks ago, saying the same thing to him? And didn’t he reject me?

This déjà vu is making me want to throw up and I can’t resist it this time. I put a hand to my stomach. It’s fucking dizzy.

Simon squints his eyes. “I think we’ve had this conversation before, haven’t we?”

Yes. We have.

But then, I didn’t know the magnitude of feelings I’d develop for him in just two weeks. I didn’t know that he was harboring the same fantasies as me. I didn’t know the little things about him.

His little smirks, his sighs and groans. His heat and his skin. How he’s so patient and wonderful and caring. How he can’t fathom the thought of me hurting and how he beats himself up for the littlest things.

“You can’t lie to me, Simon.” I take a step toward him. “I know you. I might not know all the things about you. All the facts. But I know you. I’ve felt you.” Another step closer, as I continue, “You’re a good man, Simon. You have such a good heart and I don’t know why you don’t think so. I don’t understand it, but I swear to God, you do. I’ve never met someone like you. In fact, I don’t even think there is anyone like you.”

Somehow, my voice is still steady even as my body is shivering. I reach him, craning my neck up so I can take him in.

“You’re not some criminal from the wrong side of town. You’re not the man on death row. You’re the king, Simon. You’re my king. I-I was born for you. My illness, The Roof Incident. They aren’t random. I was meant to be here, and you were, too. Whatever I went through in my life, it was because I was meant to meet you. And you were meant to meet me, too.”

I go to touch his face, maybe soften him up a little bit, but he grabs my hand before I can make contact. His hold is fierce, painfully fierce, and I clench my lips against the pain.

“Are you done?”

“Si –”

He squeezes my wrist, harder than he ever has before, and a tiny hiss escapes me. He doesn’t let go, however. He watches me squirm. He increases the pressure and doesn’t ease up.

On the night he took my virginity, he told me that I didn’t wanna see him lose it. I think this is what he meant. This violence. “Simon, please, you’re hurting me.”

That’s when he releases me. “Now, get the fuck out.”

I rub my wrist and stand my ground. “You did that on purpose. You deliberately tried to hurt me. I know that. You’re not like this. I’ve seen you all –”

He stops my words with a short, harsh burst of laughter. “God, I knew this was a bad idea,” he mutters, almost to himself before focusing on me with lethal eyes. “I knew it the moment I laid eyes on you. I knew you were young. You were reckless. You were emotional and still, I fucked you. Let me tell you how it is, Willow.”

Tags: Saffron A. Kent Erotic
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