Abbi Glines - Rush Too Far

This was my fault. Fuck me, this was all my fault. She never complained when any other woman on the planet would have. And she was eating motherfucking peanut-butter sandwiches every day. My chest hurt. I couldn’t do this anymore. I’d tried. I was done keeping her at a distance.

“Go get your stuff and move upstairs. Take any room on the left side of the hall you want. Throw that damn peanut butter away, and eat whatever the hell you want in this kitchen,” I told her.

She remained frozen in her spot. Why wasn’t she listening to me?

“If you want to stay here, Blaire, move your ass upstairs now. Then come down here and eat something out of my motherfucking fridge while I watch,” I growled. She stiffened at my response. I needed to calm down. I didn’t want to scare her; I just wanted her to move upstairs, dammit. And eat some bacon!

“Why do you want me to move upstairs?” she asked softly.

I moved the last piece of bacon to the paper towel before looking at her again. Seeing her hurt me physically. Knowing that I’d treated her so poorly and that she’d taken it was making it hard to fucking breathe. “Because I want you to. I hate going to bed at night and thinking about you asleep under my stairs. Now I have the image of you eating those damn peanutbutter sandwiches all alone in there, and it’s a little more than I can deal with.” There, I’d said it.

She didn’t argue this time. She turned around and walked back into the pantry. I stood there and waited until she walked back out, carrying her suitcase in one hand and a jar of peanut butter and some bread in the other. She put the jar and the bread on the counter without looking at me and walked toward the hallway.

I was working to hold on to the edge of the counter to keep from grabbing the jar of peanut butter and smashing it against the wall. I wanted to hit something. The ache inside was taking over, and I needed to hurt something to ease the anger. Anger that was directed completely at myself for being a self-absorbed ass. I had been so fucking worried about not touching her that I’d neglected her in other ways. She was living off fucking peanut butter.

“I don’t have to move upstairs. I like that room.” Blaire’s soft voice broke into my thoughts, and I had to grip the counter even tighter. I’d mistreated her. Neglected her needs. All I wanted was to touch her and fucking smell her and hold her, but I’d let her down. I wasn’t going to be able to forgive myself for this.

“You belong in one of the rooms upstairs. You don’t belong under the stairs. You never did,” I said, without looking at her.

“Would you at least tell me which room to take? I don’t feel right picking one out. This isn’t my house.”

I was scaring her. One more thing she didn’t deserve. I let go of my grip on the counter and looked over at her. She seemed ready to bolt back to the pantry at any minute.

“The rooms on the left are all guest rooms. There are three of them. I think you’ll enjoy the view from the last one. It looks out over the ocean. The middle room is all white with pale pink accents. It reminds me of you. So you go choose. Whichever one you want. Take it, then come down here and eat.”

“But I’m not hungry. I just ate—”

“If you tell me you ate that damn peanut butter again, I am going to throw it through a wall.” Fuck, the thought of that made me furious. I took a deep breath and focused on sounding calm. “Please, Blaire. Come eat something for me.”

She nodded her head and climbed the stairs. I should have taken her suitcase for her, but I knew she didn’t want me near her right now. She needed to do this alone. I’d just acted like a crazy man. I washed out the skillet that I’d cooked the bacon in. Once it was put away and Blaire still hadn’t come back downstairs from choosing her room, I took a large plate out of the cabinet and filled it with eggs and bacon before sitting down at the table. She could eat off my plate.

Blaire stepped into the kitchen, and I looked up to see her staring at me. “Did you choose a room?” I asked.

She nodded and walked over to stand on the other side of the table. “Yes. I believe so. The one you said had a great view, is it . . . green and blue?”

“Yes, it is.” I couldn’t keep from smiling. I liked that she’d chosen the one I thought she would. Even if it was the room closest to me.

“And you’re OK with me staying in that room? It is really nice. I’d want that room if this were my house.” She was still making sure that I wouldn’t change my mind and toss her back under the stairs.

I smiled at her reassuringly “You haven’t seen my room yet.” I had said yet. I was going to cave in. I didn’t take girls to my room. It was mine. But I wanted to see her there. With my things.

“Is your room on the same floor?” she asked.

“No, mine takes up the entire top floor,” I explained.

“You mean all those windows? That’s all one big room?” The awe in her voice was hard to miss. I would be taking her up there to see it before it was all over.

“Yep.” I ate a piece of bacon while trying to correct my wayward thoughts of Blaire in my room. That would never be a good idea. “Did you already put your things away?” I asked, trying to think about something else. Anything else.

“No, I wanted to check with you before I unpacked. I should probably just keep everything in the suitcase. By the end of next week, I’ll be ready to move out. My tips at the club are good, and I’ve saved almost all of it.”

No. She couldn’t live alone. That wasn’t safe. She thought she had to move because of me. Her sorry-ass father hadn’t even called to check on her. She had no one, and she was so damn vulnerable. Someone needed to protect her. She wasn’t moving out of this house. I couldn’t stand to think of someone hurting her. I kept my focus on the beach outside, hoping it would calm me, but the panic setting in at the thought of her living alone was taking over. “You can stay as long as you want to, Blaire,” I assured her. I needed her here.

She didn’t respond. I pulled out the chair beside me.

“Sit next to me and eat some of this bacon.” She sat down slowly, and I pushed my plate over to her. “Eat,” I told her.

She picked up a piece of bacon and took a bite. Her eyes did a fluttery thing that made her lashes fan across her cheekbone. Fuck me, that was sexy as hell.

I nudged the plate toward her again. “Eat another.” She was grinning at me like she found this funny, and the ache inside me eased. I could keep her here. I would make it so that she never wanted to leave. “What are your plans for today?” I asked her.

“I don’t know yet. I thought I’d look for an apartment, maybe.”

There went my ease. Fuck no, she was not looking for an apartment. “Stop talking about moving out, OK? I don’t want you moving until our parents get home. You need to talk to your dad before you run off and start living alone. It isn’t exactly safe. You’re too young.”

She laughed. That soft, musical sound that I heard so infrequently. “I am not too young. What is it with you and my age? I am nineteen. I’m a big girl. I can live on my own safely. Besides, I can hit a moving target better than most police officers. My skills with a gun are pretty impressive. Stop with the unsafe-and-too-young thing.”

The idea of Blaire and a gun excited and terrified me all at once. As sexy as that sounded, I was also worried about her hurting herself. “So you really do have a gun?”

She grinned and nodded.

“I thought Grant was just being funny. His sense of humor sucks sometimes.”

“Nope. I pulled it on him when he surprised me my first night here.”

Now, that made me laugh. “I’d love to have seen that.”

She just smiled and kept her head down. She wasn’t looking at me, and I knew that her first night here wasn’t a pleasant memory.

“I don’t want you to stay here just because you’re young. I get that you can take care of yourself, or you at least think you can. I want you here because . . . I like having you here. Don’t leave. Wait until your dad gets back. It sounds like you two are way overdue for a visit. Then you can decide what you want to do. For now, how about you go upstairs and unpack? Think of all the money you can save living here. When you do move out, then you’ll have a nice padded bank account.” I had just said way more than I wanted to. But I needed to get her to stay.

“OK. If you really mean that, then thank you.”

Thoughts of her in my bed naked started taunting me. I couldn’t let it turn into that. I had to remember Nan. And what that all meant to Blaire. She’d hate me in the end.

“I mean it. But that also means that the friends thing with us needs to remain in full effect,” I told her.

“Agreed,” she replied. I hadn’t wanted her to agree. I’d wanted her to beg me like she had last night. Because at this moment, I was weak, and I’d give in. I forced all sexual thoughts of Blaire out of my mind. I couldn’t think like this, or I would go mad.

“Also, you are going to start eating the food in this house when you’re here.”

She shook her head at me.

“Blaire, this isn’t up for argument. I mean it. Eat my damn food.”

She stood up and leveled me with a determined glare. “No. I will buy food and eat it. I am not . . . I’m not like my father.”

Fuck. Again, this was all my damn fault. I stood up to look her directly in the eyes. “You think I don’t know that by now? You’ve been sleeping in a damn broom closet without complaint. You clean up after me. You don’t eat properly. I am aware that you’re nothing like your dad. But you are a guest in my home, and I want you eating in my kitchen and treating it like it’s yours.”

Blaire’s stiff shoulders eased a little. “I’ll put my food in your kitchen and eat it in here. Will that be better?”

No. That wasn’t better. I wanted her eating my food! “If all you intend to buy is peanut butter and bread, then no. I want you eating properly.”

She started to shake her head, and I reached out and grabbed her hand.

“Blaire, it will make me happy to know you’re eating. Henrietta buys the groceries once a week and stocks this place, expecting me to have a lot of company. There is more than enough. Please. Eat. My Food.”

She bit her bottom lip but not before a giggle escaped. Damn, that was cute.

“Are you laughing at me?” I asked, feeling the need to grin myself.

“Yeah. A little,” she replied.

“Does this mean you’re gonna eat my food?”

She let out a heavy sigh, but she was still smiling. “Only if you let me pay you weekly.”

I shook my head no, and she jerked her hand free and started to walk away. Damn stubborn woman! “Where are you going?” I asked her.

“I’m done arguing with you. I will eat your food if I pay for my part. That’s the only deal I will agree to. So take it or leave it.”

I growled, but I was going to have to give in. “OK, fine. Pay me.”

She glanced back at me. “I’m going to go unpack. Then take a bath in that big ol’ tub, and then I don’t know. I don’t have plans until tonight.”

Tonight? “With who?” I asked, not sure I liked the sound of that.

“Bethy.”

“Bethy? The cart girl Jace messes around with?” I really didn’t like the sound of that. Bethy was nothing but trouble. She’d get drunk and forget all about Blaire. I thought about the men who could hurt her. No, she wasn’t going without me. Someone needed to protect her sexy ass.

“Correction. The cart girl Jace used to mess around with. She wised up and is moving on. Tonight we’re going honky-tonking to pick us up some hardworking blue-collar men.” She turned and hurried up the steps.

This conversation wasn’t over.

She was upstairs now. Right next to the door leading up to my room. Taking a bath . . . Shit.

I had to leave. Putting space between us today was important. This morning with her had been good. I wasn’t going to keep her at a distance so that her basic needs were neglected anymore. She would eat my food, dammit. She would sleep in a good bed and bathe in a nice big bathroom. No more treating her like the fucking help.

The weight off my shoulders was now replaced with fear. Fear that I wouldn’t be able to stay away from her. Knowing she was right there, asleep. Watching her eat, which I would now be doing regularly to make sure she ate normal food. I wasn’t going to be able to stay away.