Road Rage by Jessi Gage Page B

released the knob and backed away, finding clean underwear and sweats in the laundry room, instead.
    After finishing his beer in the shower, he checked the laptop one last time. Haley hadn’t responded. He cursed himself.
    Why did he have to let his temper get the better of his judgment? Why did his mouth always spit out whatever thought went through his head when he was angry? He’d grown up with a father who behaved exactly the same way, and had promised himself he wouldn’t end up like that, bitter and old with everyone around him running for cover every time he entered a room.
    Hands on his hips, he stood in the living room, staring down the hall at his bedroom door. Full dark had fallen. Part of him wanted to open the door and see if his dream girl was waiting for him on the bed. Part of him wanted her to hold him again and tell him he wasn’t a bad guy. Another part of him felt sick to his stomach at the thought of a ghost on the other side of that door.
    He dropped to his hands and toes and did his bedtime workout routine right there in the living room. Then, embracing his cowardice, he went to bed on the couch. Haley had picked out a snuggly-soft, navy blue and gold throw that looked great on his leather couch. He wrapped himself in the blanket and rested his head on a fancy pillow with matching colors.
    Before he turned off the lamp on the end table, his gaze fell on the curtains Haley had chosen for his front window. The heavy fabric, gold-colored with rust and navy stripes, looked decadent but still masculine. He didn’t have the imagination to have picked them out for himself, but the colors complemented his latte-colored walls perfectly. He hoped when Haley saw them, she’d like them as much as he did.
     

 
    Chapter 8
     
    When DG arrived in her usual corner of Derek’s bedroom, it was darker than it had ever been before. The new blinds were closed, and so was the door. All the times she had been here, the door had never been shut. Except this morning when he’d fled from something so disconcerting he couldn’t stand to face it: her.
    The only light came from under the door. She heard Derek moving between the kitchen and the living room. The urge to be near him drew her across the room. She tried the doorknob, knowing it wouldn’t move, but needing to anyway. Being separated from him was worse torture than the fog. Not knowing how he felt tonight had her insides in knots.
    Had he made up with Haley? Had he suffered a hangover today? Was he wearing jeans or sweats? Was he still pretending she was nothing but a dream or hallucination?
    Her skin flushed hot as she remembered giving in to her attraction last night. She finally knew what the thick muscles of his shoulders felt like under her hands, the taste of his salty skin as her tongue played along his neck. She finally knew the passion of his kiss. Wow, the man could kiss! She had no memory of kissing anyone else, but even if she’d Frenched a dozen Don Juans, Derek’s rough, possessive kiss would have wiped the slate clean. There had been no room for insecurity or indecision in it. She wished she had half the confidence he wielded in his kiss alone.
    And in his touch. The man was a taker, and she wanted to be taken completely. Derek would never let something like doubt stop him from possessing whatever he wanted. And she had been foolish enough to think he might want her. When he’d accepted the intimate comfort she offered, she’d thought he’d accepted her. She’d felt like she finally had an ally in this strange existence. Someone cared about her. She could deal with her situation, as long as she had that much.
    How wrong she’d been. Whatever she thought they’d shared last night, this morning he’d been scared of her, and tonight he had barred her from reaching him. At first, she hoped it was unintentional, but when she heard his footsteps pad from the bathroom to the living room and saw the light extinguished and heard nothing more,