Read Online Limerence II by Claire C Riley - Free Book Online Page B

sitting behind the counter, and Donny grabs one of the larger glasses and fills it with the fresh blood. I take it from him, reciprocating with a scowl for the smile he offers me, and I storm to a table near the back of the room. I slide into the chair and look down at my drink, feeling the heat of the blood through the glass and the life that it offers. I drink it down slowly, thinking of the worst part of my memory, the one that always puts me in this bad mood. The one that cuts me deep, that makes me feel shameful and weak.
    Because it is the worst and best part of the memory.
    Mia had stared into my face, her delicate hands on either side of my face as she had leaned up and gently pressed her lips upon mine. Heat burned from her touch, making the kiss both exquisite and painful. She stole me when she kissed me—stole my body and mind with the most tender kiss I have ever received.
    I absently rub and pull on my bottom lip, the memory of that most perfect kiss still burning strong after all this time. As if her lips were made only for mine and all previous kisses were just practice for this one moment.
    I knew she was perfect for me in that instant.
    And then Mia had asked me to stay, and she hadn’t meant just to have sex: she had wanted me to hold her close and to cherish her. But my feelings for her had frightened me then—and they still frighten me now. The intensity of them had come from nowhere, almost collapsing me to my knees before her. I had felt weak under her intense gaze, so I’d refused and left her alone, listening to her cry as I walked away, shame burning my cheeks.
    Fear is born from uncertainty, and I fear Mia. I fear the adoration that I have for her, the total unfathomable devotion that is like a living, breathing being inside of me—a thing I fight against daily. She is my everything, and I don’t know how it has come to this or how to stop it. Each day is like a slow torture to me. When we train and fight, when her lithe body comes into contact with mine and sends currents of electricity jolting through me, it physically pains me, because when she looks at me, I feel as though she truly sees me. Not the charade of a man that I am, but me —and that is both breathtaking and horrifying.
     

Seven.
     
Mia.
     
    “Concentrate, Mia!” Evan yells into my face again as he slams me against the training room wall for the tenth time. Dust floats down from the ceiling. I stare back at him blankly, despite the pain in my back and my lungs feeling like they have just caved in. Good thing I don’t need them anymore.
    His nostrils flare, his brown eyes looking dark and furious at me. “If I were a threat to you, you would be dead by now,” he growls, his taut muscles straining as he holds me in place.
    I try to push away from him, but he holds me firm until he is ready to let me go. When he has made his point in restraining me, he lets me go and I push past him, brushing his arm away from me when he tries to stop me. “Well, you’re not a threat, are you?”
    No chance of that happening.
    I hear him mutter to himself, but can’t be bothered to respond. Instead I check the time and see that I still have another twenty minutes before I can leave.
    “Can’t we just finish early for today?” I whine and turn to face him.
    He cracks his knuckles, and for a minute I wonder if he is going to tackle me again, but instead he looks down to his feet, his shoulders slumping. “Fine, if that’s your wish.”
    I roll my eyes at him. “It’s not my wish, Evan, I just . . .” It’s my turn to look away now. “This is just hard. You have to see that.” I watch him, but other than the sweat glistening on him and the flexing of his muscles, he is like stone. “You must feel it too,” I almost beg, feeling pathetic.
    We both know what I’m talking about: him, us, this awkwardness. We’ve crossed a line and can’t go back.
    He drags a hand down his face before huffing out a breath—as if that will make