Selective/Memory: The "Depth of Emotion" Book 2 (The Depth of Emotion) (27 page)

Deciding not to over analyze, she walked under the hot, heavenly water, placing her back to him. She was giving him a few minutes to acclimate himself that he had company. With his head down, she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. She’d have to rely on his body language. If he left the shower—it was her. If he stayed—she knew what to do.

Once a few minutes had passed, Aria pensively turned to face him. She placed the shampoo in her hair and began to work her fingers into the lather. He seemed entranced by the simple act.

“Come over here,” she heard him say as he moved himself over on the bench.

Obediently, she tossed her hair back and pushed the bubbles from her face. Seated beside him, he turned her body to face away from him.

Feeling his thick, heavy fingers massage into her scalp, she immediately relaxed. It was exquisite to have his hands sliding over her scalp and neck with the lather and bubbles, and a relaxing sigh escaped her lips.

“You don’t know how much I’ve missed this, beautiful…I’ve missed everything about you…”

He leaned forward, kissing her shoulder and sending chills where the hot water dripped and drizzled over her skin.

Moaning her approval, she leaned back into his welcoming hands, enjoying his touch, never wanting them to leave her body. Having experienced the alternative, she much preferred him beside her.

His hands traveled down the length of her back as the soap made its way toward her eyes. She stood, turning to place her face under the water, and as she rose, his hands glided past the curve at the base of her spine to rest on her cheeks. All traces of the bubbles left as she placed her hands on his and turned toward him.

“Come under with me,” she said, pulling him to join her.

Leaning on his left leg, Declan stood and balanced himself, then limped the step or two over to her.

Aria noted his difficulty and held on to him, placing her arms around his waist, holding on to his back with her massaging hands. It was an attempt to pull him close to her and inconspicuously offer support.

He resisted at first, but at the sight of her, he began to use his hands to assist in sensuously lathering and bathing the rest of her. Immersed in such an intimate scenario, it recreated memories that had been fractured and shattered.

Once they finished, Declan wrapped Aria in a plush towel, holding her to him. She kissed him on the neck, resting her head on his shoulder. Very little words had been spoken, but he knew that they’d need to talk—and that concerned him.

As his arms came around her waist, a knock on the door interrupted them. Her head rose up to look at him, puzzled at the intrusion.

“Lunch,” he said in explanation.

Nodding her head in acknowledgment, she removed the towel that was around her as Declan went into the other room.

Hearing him at the door, receiving their food, she wrapped herself in a plush robe and ran a comb through her mass of tangled waves.

“I didn’t know what you’d like, so I ordered a little of everything,” he said, directing her attention to fresh fruit, salad, breads, and cheeses.

Pouring them a tall, fruit drink, he brought one to her at the table.

“I’m starving!” she said, taking a piece of fruit and cheese.

He winked at her, working his face into a cocky look.

“Must have been our workout…” he said.

She smiled at him, laying her hand on his arm, wanting to say something, but feeling apprehensive.

“What?” he asked.

“I’m just…happy.” She smiled.

He knew her well enough to know that there was more to that thought.

“…and?”

“…and…nervous,” she confessed.

As thoughts of the situation with Marisol crept into his mind, so was he. He hadn’t worked everything out in his mind, but her safety was his first concern.

“Why?” he asked, scarfing down his food, never letting his attention avert from her.

“Because I’m not sure where this goes,” she said nervously.

“Does it have to have a direction?” he asked, thinking maybe that was the answer. “Can’t we just…
let it be
for a while?” he challenged.

Wrinkling up her brow, she looked at him, puzzled.

“Let it be?”
she asked, shrugging her shoulders in indifference. She looked at her plate. “I guess we can, but given our history, I’d hoped it wasn’t a casual fling for you…I—I just don’t do
casual
very well…”

Placing his fork down, he reached over for her.

“This wasn’t casual for me, Aria,” he assured her. “
You
have never been casual for me.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, she relaxed a bit and returned to enjoying her food.

Scarcely moments had passed when he again addressed her. He had to find a way to approach this. How he’d keep her at a safe distance until Carter could resolve his suspicions about Marisol, he didn’t know, but he feared he’d alienate her, and thought maybe just a bit of distance would solve this issue.

“Unfortunately,
that
poses a problem…” he commented, hearing his own words drop like lead.

The emotional chill she developed immediately upon hearing his words dropped the temperature in the room by twenty degrees. She lifted her head to look at him, not shying away from the subject.

This
was a different Aria than the girl he knew—the one who didn’t let people walk on her heart anymore.

“
And exactly what problem would that be
?” she asked, enunciating each word in an icy tone.

“You. Me. This,” he said “It will never be casual for me.”

Approaching this line of conversation cautiously, Aria took in a deep breath.

“I’ve never taken what we had casually, Declan, so explain yourself,” she challenged. “It was always more than that to me
. You
sound like you’re dancing around with issues.”

“That’s the problem, Aria. I don’t want you to read more into this than there might be…we have to think about what we’re getting into. We’ve been through a lot. I don’t want mistakes of the past to come back and haunt us.”

He was thinking of Marisol, but he couldn’t explain that to her.

Aria felt as if ice had been poured on her heart.

“So what the hell was this?
Pity?
Because if that’s what you thought I needed, then you were so wrong! I don’t need it!”

Closing the robe tightly about her, she crossed her arms, angling her body away from him.

His anger began to surface. She was taking this all wrong, and he was beginning to take offense. He was looking out for her, but she couldn’t—or wouldn’t—see it.

“Damn it, Aria! No!” he swore, raising his voice. “I didn’t expect this to happen—Hell, I was trying for it
not
to happen.”

She sucked in her breath as if he had slapped her.

“Oh, no?!” she asked, raising her own voice. “You sure as hell didn’t look like you were trying
not for it to happen
last night!” she accused.

“I didn’t even know you were here!” he exclaimed. “I’ve been seeing a doctor at home, trying to get myself together before I came to see you!”

He pushed the chair back and stood, hitting his hand on the table in frustration.

“Shit!” he said, in frustration, running his hand through his hair, before he looked at her. “Don’t you get it?” he pleaded angrily, “I was trying to protect you! We should’ve taken our time. Gone slower. There were things to discuss. Don’t you see that?! We need to be careful!”

She didn’t understand, and he was complicating things further.

“
Protect me?
What the hell are you saying? Protect me from what?! What are you talking about?!” She demanded an explanation.

He was trying to find the words, but couldn’t. Somehow, she had to understand—he had to
make
her understand. His hand was fisting in frustration as he attempted to gain control of his temper, but as he looked at her, at how beautiful she was, at how perfect she was, he lost it.

“From all the shit that comes along with me, dammit!” he said as he slammed his fist on the table. He couldn’t explain further without, possibly, exposing her to danger.

Jumping from his display of anger, she found she couldn’t follow what he was trying to say, and she became livid.

Why would he think that he’d be a threat to me?

“From you? What comes along with you? What are you talking about? Why would you need to save me from things about
you
?!” she asked, raising her voice and demanding an answer.

“From me…from how this happened.” He tried to explain without lying to her, but it just sounded like gibberish. “There are things—and people—that might not be all that you understand. It’s affected them—and me. They’ll never be the same—
I’ll
never be the same. Don’t you get that?” he said angrily.

Seeing her confusion, he directed her attention to his leg.

“What about this? Doesn’t this even bother you? Have you even thought of what it would be like to be with a freak that looks like this?!” he asked, staring at her incredulously.

She looked at his leg, then at his face. He appeared mortified, and she was momentarily at a loss for words.

He looked down, ashamed at his affliction. She started to move toward him, but his hands went up, raised to hold her in her place.

“STOP!”

She froze in place as he looked at her.

“Don’t you see? You don’t deserve this. You don’t know what kind of evil surrounds me, or what this can be on a day-to-day basis. I don’t know if I want to pull you into all of this…” he said, holding onto his damaged leg and thinking of Carter’s suspicions of Marisol.

As Aria stared at his eyes, she saw that he struggled with his emotions, his eyes misting with tears.

“You deserve better, Aria…” he said as his voice trembled. “…better than…
this shit
!” He gestured to the injury.

Taking in his words, she attempted to process what she could of them as they both were completely immobile in silence. His words hit Aria directly in her heart. The impact of how completely misguided his understanding was of the depth of her love and compassion, crushed her.

Moving ever so slowly, she crossed the room, approaching and standing before him as he sat. He raised his chin to look up at her, eyes filled with emotion as he lifted his arms to hold her around her waist.

Shaking her head at him in disbelief, her body went into motion.

SMACK!

She delivered the blow directly across his face. His head jarred to the right just a little, as his mouth fell open, shocked and bewildered at her reaction.

“
How dare you
!” she said, low and determined.

Confused, he had no words to address her, but he turned, returning her gaze with an equally fiery one of his own. Aria had never before behaved in this manner, and he didn’t understand this reaction.

Why in the hell was she so pissed and upset?
was the first thought that burned in his brain.

She moved to walk away from him, but he grabbed her wrist. Undaunted, she turned back in a determined manner to indicate that she’d have her say without his intimidation.

As she pointed her finger at him in anger, she pushed herself even closer to him.

“First, understand this about me—don’t you
ever
tell
me
what I deserve or what I want! No one, not even
you
, will ever make that decision for me!”

She unwrapped his fingers from her wrist and flung his hand away as she turned to walk away from him. She began to pace, something he remembered she always did when she was very angry.

He was burning with anger, but he wanted to smile at her fire. He dared not because he knew it would only serve to fuel her further.

Turning back toward him, she unleashed once again.

“…And another thing…How
dare you
trivialize my life?”

If he hadn’t been so flabbergasted by that comment, he would have laughed.

“What?” he asked, shocked. “When did I trivialize your life?!” he shouted back at her.

She put her hands on the table, leaning in and placing her face inches away from his. The fireworks revealed fire and brimstone. She was angry—truly pissed—and he saw it all in her eyes.

“The moment you said I deserved better, Declan, that’s when!”

She pushed herself away from him, so angry she was afraid she would strike him again.

“What exactly do you mean by
better
, Declan?
Your leg?
Is that what you mean, because when I look at your leg, I remember something very different than you do,” she said, seething with rage. “What I remember,” she said, driving a dagger in his heart, “…was what you did to save my life!”

His mouth fell open.

“Yes, Declan,” she confirmed, “that’s what
I
see. Maybe you still see things differently,” she challenged. “
Appearance for appearances sake?
Is that what’s most important to you now, because for you to make a statement like you just did, trivializes what you did
for
me. I would
never
look at you like that
…and I never have
.”

Declan stood, wanting to go over to her, attempt to do damage control. This time, she was the one to stop him, not wanting him to touch her.

“NO! Don’t come near me,” she said as she made her way back to the bedroom, picking up and removing his clothes, throwing them into the bathroom. “Maybe you’ve spent so much time with that bitch Marisol that you have just as much a corrupt way of looking at things as she does.”

He winced at her words, thinking they were a low blow, but realizing she didn’t know all of the facts.

“Don’t compare me to her, Aria,” he said quietly.

“No, Dec!” she said firmly, stopping to emphasize how hurt and angry she felt. “The man I was in love with would have known me better than that. He would have understood that shit like physical appearances wouldn’t bother me—and knowing that you don’t remember me that well proves that you’ve become more like Marisol since we’ve been apart than you realize!”