I cover the kitten again when Ian rounds the kitchen island to see what’s going on.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I found it in the garden. It was stuck in the rose bushes and didn’t look well. It’s hungry.”
I tense up when Ian crouches beside me and lifts my hand. Unlike Killian, he’s gentle and places my hand in my lap instead of taking it in a punishing grip. His hands look even bigger than usual when he reaches down to scratch the kitten on top of its head.
“Have you gotten it to drink anything?”
“A little, but only from my finger. It’s too weak to drink from a bowl, and it wouldn’t touch it when I tried a teaspoon.”
“Wait here. I have an idea.” Ian gets up and leaves me alone with a scowling Killian.
“Pissed... right.” I cast him an incredulous look, then add under my breath, “You’re just pissed you’re not getting your way.”
He doesn’t say anything, just keeps watching. It’s unnerving the way he stares me down, but I ignore him, dipping my finger into the milk again and bringing it to the kitten’s mouth. It eagerly laps at my finger, and I smile despite the menacing man trying to ruin the moment.
A few minutes later, Ian returns to sit at my side and hands me a small, needle-less syringe. “Try this.”
I fill the syringe with milk and bring it to the kitten’s mouth.
“Not too fast, just one drop at a time,” Ian instructs.
I gently press the plunger, releasing one drop at a time, and the kitten eagerly laps up the milk. “It works,” I say and glance at Ian, a bright smile tipping up my lips.
“Good job,” he says with a warm tone that calms my heart. Turning his attention to Killian, who’s still watching with anirritated scowl etched between his brows, he asks, “Can you go to the pet store and see if you can find a feeding bottle?”
Killian finally breaks free from his cross-armed stance, but only to hold his hands up in dismissal. “I’m not getting involved in this shit.” With that, he turns and leaves.
Ian sighs and gives the kitten another scratch. “He used to love animals.”
I don’t respond; I don’t know how. The unresolved tension lingers between us.
Letting his hand drift from the kitten to my hand, he carefully touches the scratches. “You need to take care of your hands, Jenna. Why didn’t you come get me?”
I lift my shoulders. “I was afraid it would be too long—that the kitten would be gone when I came back.” Saying it out loud, I realize how stupid it sounds now. The kitten was stuck, unable to go anywhere. I sigh when Ian frowns. “I just needed to get it out, okay? It was hurt. And scared.”
Ian brushes his knuckles over my cheek. “You really are a sweet little one. But I want you to take care of yourself. If your hands were hurt worse, it might have put a pin in the competition.”
A bitter sense of betrayal twists my stomach. “That’s all you care about,” I mutter under my breath, lowering my head, sinking into my own little bubble with the kitten.
Ian grabs my chin and levels me with a stern look. “That’s not true at all.”
I’m not sure where my anger comes from. A residue from when Killian was here? Or maybe it’s because I know Ian’s desire to take care of me has an expiration date on it that’s closing in fast. All the old hurt and insecurities rush to the surface, making me accuse, “Isn’t it? It’s all you’ve ever cared about—getting Killian to win every single competition. You ruined mylifeto make sure he kept winning.”
Something terrifying flashes across his face. His eyes darken, and his jaw tics with an anger I’ve never before seen on him. It makes me flinch, thinking he’s going to slap me. But then he leans in and pulls my head to his chest.
“I did,” he says, cradling me with that aching protectiveness that makes me want to forget about everything that is and was and just melt into him. But I remain stiff as his admission and the memory of the consequence remain stuck in my mind. He holds me like that for a minute, and it’s only because I don’t want to scare the kitten that I don’t try to pull away.
Finally, he releases me and leans away to watch me, but I aim my attention down at the fluffy creature as he speaks, refusing to keep accepting what he did—the blackmail and manipulation, five years ago, five months ago.
“I can’t undo what I did back then,” he finally says. A well of soft emotion is about to make me turn my wide eyes up at him, but then he adds, “I also can’t say I regret it.”
Hurt bears down on my chest. A weight so violent it threatens to crush all the trust and intimacy we’ve built. But once again, he turns it around with only a few words.
“Because then we wouldn’t be where we are now.”
I tighten my hold on the syringe, tears springing to my eyes. I want to face him and let his sincerity pull me in. I want to forgive him for everything and let go of all the hurt and anger. But I can’t. I can’t let myself be that weak and fall for his sweet words yet again. There’s no way of knowing whether he truly means them. Because Ian would doanythingfor Killian. Manipulate and break me. How do I know that’s not what he’s doing once again?
“You’re just saying that to manipulate me.”