Page 22 of Rush
She deserves someone who's not one bad day away from violence, someone who doesn't wake up in the middle of the night tasting blood.
She deserves someone who's not me.
I fucked this up.
I let her get too close and now I've hurt her by pushing her away.
But it's better this way. Better to hurt her now than hurt her worse later.
That's what I tell myself anyway.
Even if I don't believe it.
4
EVERLY
I spend Saturday pretending I'm not thinking about Rush.
It doesn't work.
I'm in the lab running samples and my mind keeps circling back to Friday night, to the way he looked at me like he wanted to devour me and run away at the same time.
"You're not good for me."
What kind of bullshit excuse is that?
I slam my pipette down harder than necessary and Maya looks over. "You okay?"
"Fine."
"You seem angry."
"I'm not angry."
"You're definitely angry." She walks over to my bench. "What happened?"
"Nothing. Just failed samples."
"Right, samples." She doesn't believe me, but she lets it go. "You want to get lunch?"
"Can't. I've got to redo this entire protocol."
"Suit yourself."
She leaves and I go back to work. My hands are steady but my mind is racing.
The thing that pisses me off most is that Rush is right—he's not good for me.
He's intense and territorial and clearly has issues he's not dealing with.
But I don't care.
I've spent my whole life around dangerous men. I know how to handle myself.
And Rush doesn't scare me. If anything, he makes me want to push harder, see what happens when that control finally breaks.
I finish my work around three and head home. My flat feels too quiet so I turn on music and make dinner.
