Loving Ean (The Fae Guard Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

then . . .
    It’s been three months. How much more time am I supposed to give him? I’ve waited for Ean to come to me, tried to be patient and give him his space, but every day that he avoids me, the ache gets stronger. We’d kept our relationship on the down-low; we didn’t want to share this time with the group, and constantly be under their microscope. So, it had been extremely difficult to hide my breaking heart, and even harder to explain it when I couldn’t keep up the façade. Why won’t he let me in? If he would open up to me, I could help him to heal. This question plagues me daily, and I’ve had enough.
    I, once again, find myself waiting in the hall at his door. He’s reduced me to stalking him. Great. Anger has slowly been building inside of me and right now, its beating down the apprehension and despair. The elevator doors open and the object of all my tumultuous emotions steps out. He looks gorgeous as usual, his perfection almost blinding in its intensity. My body heats up at the sight, an ache settling between my thighs, and my stomach clenches with need. When he lifts his head and his penetrating blue eyes meet mine, the air between us crackles with electricity, and for a moment, I see a depth of hunger in them that steals my breath. Then the shuttered walls drop into place so quickly, I almost question if the need was even there. He sighs as he moves gracefully toward me and I bristle at the sound. It’s the frustrated noise of an adult about to scold a child. What the hell is going on? My anger is rising, but it’s swirling with confusion, and I’m not sure which feeling will surface first.
    “Laila.” Ean’s greeting is short and dismissive. Anger it is. He unlocks his door and steps inside. Flicking a glance at me, he attempts to close the door. Oh hell no, jackass. Without much thought, I bring a burst of sharp wind that hits the door and it almost slaps Ean in the head. Perhaps I should have let it, maybe it would make him come to his senses.
    “We need to talk.” My voice leaves no room for argument.
    Ean sighs again, and I clench my fists, the nails biting into my skin to avoid smacking him. He steps back and sweeps his arm out arrogantly, inviting me in. When he turns to shut the door, I slam it shut with a little gust of air, causing Ean to stumble, and throw me a wary look. Juvenile, I know. But, if he’s going to treat me like a misbehaving child he is being forced to deal with, perhaps I should give him a little fodder for his attitude. The thought only lasts for a moment before the real me takes over; childishness and petty attitudes are not my style.
    I turn and make my way into the glass encased living room, drawn to the windows where I stand in the sunlight, its warmth calming me. His keys clink as he tosses them onto the entry table. I listen to his quiet steps until they reach the couch, and then the whisper of air leaving the cushion as he sits. The silence is deafening. I don’t want to start this conversation, but it seems he is content to keep quiet, probably waiting for me to either speak, or give up and leave.
    I need to see his eyes, so I turn and run my gaze over him, the heat returning to my body, longing for his touch and, even more, his smile. “I’ve given you space, Ean. For three months I’ve stepped back and let you handle your demons on your own. Why won’t you let me in . . . to help you, to fight them together?” I wince inside at the pleading in my tone. Ean’s wall doesn’t move, his emotions carefully masked, his eyes empty. He watches me for a while, his jaw working slightly, belying his unaffected air.
    “I can’t do this, Laila.” I’m confused and I know he can see it on my face, but still, I see nothing from him.
    “Can’t do what? You don’t have to do it alone, Ean. I can—”
    “Us. I can’t be with you.” I’m stunned, sure that I’ve misheard him. He couldn’t possibly have said . . . “I don’t have the time or strength