Kace pulls me in front of him and I climb into the backseat. He follows but he’s back to not touching me. I’m insanely aware of him not touching me, too. Savage and Adrian climb inside the front of the vehicle and Adrian sets us in motion. “Someone needs to pack up our room,” Kace says. “We’re going to the airport. I need the plane ready now.”
I rotate to face him. “No. No, we are not going home tonight, Kace.”
“We’re going home, Aria. Decision made.”
“Because it’s your life, not our life?”
“Because it’s the right decision.”
“For who? Alexander? He wanted to get to you. He did. He wanted to destroy us, you’re trying to let him. Do not do this.”
“We both need out of this city.”
“What we need is to talk.”
“No,” he says. “No, we really do not need to talk.”
“Damn it, Kace. I love you.”
He grabs me and pulls me around and half in his lap. “I told you not to say that.”
“I love you, but right now you’re letting all the wrong things control you.”
“You don’t know what this is, Aria.”
“Because you won’t tell me. And because you didn’t, you gave him the chance to burn us. Don’t let him win.”
He sets me back down in the seat. “Airport. Turn up the radio.”
Savage flicks us a look and turns up the radio. Kace’s rejection twists and turns inside me, cutting me every which way. Screw it, I think. I maneuver my skirts and I climb right on top of Kace’s lap, straddling him. The music is now blasting and I lean into Kace, my lips at his ear. “Sara told me to fight for you but she assumed you cared about me. She was wrong. Obviously, you were looking for an out.” I move to get off of him and he catches my waist.
“I’m doing what’s best for you.”
“Liar. You’re the one running.” I try to move again. He holds onto me. “Let me go. Why are you bothering to hold me now, Kace?”
His jaw tics and then he releases me. The minute I climb off of him, he calls forward to Savage. “Go to the hotel.”
Relief washes over me. He’s not completely checked out. The man I know is still present, beneath all of that anger.
Not anger, I amend. Self-hate. He hates himself. And as Sara so rightfully said. I have to love him when he cannot love himself.
The ride is short, but it feels eternal. We sit there, not touching. It’s excruciating.
We arrive at the hotel and Savage opens my side of the vehicle. I slide out and Kace doesn’t follow. He gets out on the other side. He might as well cut me with a knife. I’m suddenly not sure he brought me here to work through this or just break up with me. I don’t know what I’m doing. We are not Chris and Sara. We’re new, and obviously not as close as I’d believed.
My eyes meet Savage’s and he says, “Don’t give up.”
“He already did,” I breathe out.
“No he hasn’t. Don’t give up.”
My lashes lower and I nod, but I can’t look at him again. I’m spiraling inside and trying to hold it together. I step away from the door, shivering as I realize now that my coat is still at the museum. Thankfully this is San Francisco, not New York and it’s only in the fifties or so, but the wind is cold. Kace is waiting on me, and he, too, is coatless but he’s not shivering. Hugging myself I start walking toward the door. Kace falls into step beside me and we enter the hotel just like that. Side-by-side, not touching, not looking at each other. We don’t stop once we’re in the lobby. We keep walking toward the elevator and Kace punches the button. The door opens and I step inside the car. Kace follows and swipes his card to punch in our floor. He leans on the wall to face me. I lean on the wall, too, but only a shoulder as I face the door. I can feel him watching me but can’t look at him right now. I’m now officially angry.
The doors open and I exit, walking ahead of him toward our room. I can feel Kace at my back, watching my every step, but he doesn’t try to catch up to me. Of course, I’ve achieved nothing but charging ahead. I’m at the door and forced to wait on him. This is all on his terms. He’s in control. And that’s how he likes it. He decides when we live or die. Emotions are pounding on me and I’m an explosion waiting to happen.
He claims the space beside me and I can feel his presence. He’s like a glass of whiskey—it burns and then warms you all over before it sizzles your nerve endings. And I drank the whole bottle. He slides the card and I notice his hands, his talented hands that play that violin like no other human being. Hands that touched me in ways I’ve never been touched. Hands that can melt me in a single caress. I’m suffocating in too much everything and I couldn’t even explain what that means to anyone who asked.