Frustrating, but not unexpected—the Selin he knew never gave anything more than that which she wished to—but the desire to reel her back to his side still existed no matter how hard he tried to extinguish it. They were the same, though he was reluctant to admit it. And if she was already affecting him this much, then indefinitely could be a problem. Especially if she was consorting with men like Baccari.
Nathan ignored her weather comment, unwilling to get waylaid by false niceties. Looking back to the water, he finished off his cigarette. It was almost laughable. “When did you turn into such an optimist? People don’t change, Selin. They just get worse.”
The burn of salt in old wounds was not the only thing which made him weary of her presence in town. The woman had always held too much power over him, forever able to claw her way beneath his skin in a way that nobody else could, it was old news. No, it was more the possibilities she presented than the memories. Reason went out the window when she was involved—life became awash with distraction. Sweet perfume, tantalising whispers, the draw of a private laugh… jealousy, rage, greed, arguments, all of it wrapped into one neat little package. It hadn’t always been that way, but any purity in their relationship had long since turned to dust. When they were together, everything they touched went up in flames.
“I’d have thought you’d learned that by now.” They held one another back and put themselves at risk of falling beneath the surface. He’d left her behind for a reason.
Stubbing out the smoke, he rose to his feet and looked her dead in the eye. He told himself it wasn’t protectiveness that spurred his next words, but the words felt treacherously close to it. “You should be careful not to involve yourself in things that don’t concern you. I know how you love to do that. It wouldn’t be wise, not right now.”
And, for the record, she’d had every intention to — Nathan had been the one to leave her all those years ago, and, petty as it was, she’d be damned if she would let him do it again — until his last warning rang in the air.
Even as she hated herself for it, Selin stilled, halfway through turning away from him. Perhaps he had always been better at the game than she was, with how effortlessly he seemed to draw her back in. Or perhaps it was the daddy issues — the need for some form of affirmation, like a teenager rebelling when their parents ignored them for work, because any attention was better than none.
She did not call him out for the warning that came so close to solicitude.
If she did, it would be a silent admittance to her own bruised longing — her paradoxical heart that could only think of him with her teeth clenched, unsure of the difference between love and hunger.
Silently, she stepped closer, lips pressed together thoughtfully. “Wasted words, my love.” Spoken softly, tips of her fingers tracing the bottom curve of his lips; the arch of his cupid’s bow as if she could find the answers of some riddle there. She wondered if she would ever get tired of this — their closeness that was both intoxicating and sharp all at once; a drunkenness wherein even if she forgot her own name, she would not forget his.
“Anything that concerns you, concerns me.” Selin’s eyes met his icy gaze, half a dare and half a regret, echoing his own words back at him. “And don’t you know? People don’t change. They just get worse.” A grin. “Though it’s a shame — Baccari is young and handsome, but no one can quite fuck me like you can.”