In a way, Josiah and I were a lot alike. Two people who needed others to give a shit about us. Who were bitter around the edges because we didn't get what we badly needed.
Instead, we got derisive looks and whispers behind our backs.
"Don't," Josiah said softly.
My eyebrows dipped. "Don't what?"
"Don't go feeling sorry for me," he said. "I don't need it or want it. Not from you. Not from anybody. Especially not anyone who lives in this stupid, fucking town." He raised his voice loud enough to be heard through the whole store.
The couple of other people stopped to look around and stare. Neither of them appeared to be locals.
"Josiah—" I started.
I didn't miss the way his eyes darkened when I said his name, but he whipped away. Turning his back on me to take his groceries to the counter so he could pay and stalk out of the store.
23
LEAH
For some reasonI couldn't explain, I paid for my own groceries and hurried out behind him. Fingers tight around the handles of my bags, I stopped on the footpath and scanned the street.
There he was. A hint of black wove through the strolling visitors to town. His back straight, looking ahead of him.
Careful not to hit anyone with my bags, I wove through the same gaps, following him past the Snowdrop Café and the Frosty Brew to the edge of town.
He stopped beside a black pickup truck, unlocked it and placed his groceries inside. As he closed the door, he glanced at the side mirror. His back stiffened. He must have seen me reflected in the glass.
"What the fuck do you want?" He turned around, his eyes blazing. "Why are you following me?"
"What makes you think I'm following you?" I asked. I had no answer for him. I didn't know either.
"Has it occurred to you I might be heading this way?" I wasn't the only one walking in this direction. He couldn't think everyone was following him, could he?
"You live in the other direction." He closed his mouth, his teeth clenched.
I arched my eyebrows at him. "How did you know that?" He clearly spoke without thinking, and then regretted admitting he knew anything about me. Especially where I lived.
"I saw you there one time." His mouth barely moved as he spoke. His gaze didn't quite meet mine. He was lying, but I had no idea why.
"Did you?" I cocked my head at him. "Or maybeyou'refollowingme."
Wouldn't I have noticed him outside the front of the cottage? He was difficult to miss, especially in a town this small. As far as I could tell, he was the only one who dressed entirely in black. I wasn't surprised to see his truck was black. Everything inside it was probably black as well. Did he live in a black house too? With black walls and black satin sheets on the bed?
I shouldn't be thinking about his bed. I certainly shouldn't be thinking about him lying on it, looking up at me, his eyes telling me to come closer. To lower myself onto him and ride him until we both screamed.
I forced the thought away. It didn't leave, but it reluctantly retreated into a back corner of my mind until later. At some point, it was going to be back in full force. Maybe when I had my vibrator in hand.
"Why the fuck would I do that?" he snapped. He let out a long sigh through his nose. "Sweet cheeks, you have a high opinion of yourself." One he apparently didn't share.
I straightened my head and glared. "The hell I do. I think you might be projecting, Josiah Lachance. I mean, look at you." I jerked my head forward. "You've nailed the whole brooding bad boy thing. Do you own anything that isn't black?"
"Nope," he said tightly. "Everything is black, like my soul."
I snorted a laugh. "That's fucking dramatic. You want to know what I think?"
"No. I don't give a shit." Keys in his hand, he started to turn away.
I decided to tell him anyway.
