Damien was trying to do everything to make me go out with him or just to spend some time with him. He's been texting me non-stop for a whole week, even came by my place a few times, but I ignored him. 

I felt myself becoming weak again and I'm afraid it's going to be like it was the last time. I think Damien is a man who loves when something doesn't come easily to him. He isn't used to chasing the women, he's used to the women chasing him, but when someone's running away from him? I think he loves that rush.

He loved it in the past and then left when he got me. How do I know he's not going to do the same thing now? Although it brings me a lot of comfort that I haven't seen any women parading in and out of his flat. 

Some part of me wants to believe him, wants to believe he's serious and really wants to try with me, but the other part is scared out of its mind to be disappointed yet again. 

I successfully avoided him for the whole week because I love being a coward rather than confront the problem. I want to talk to him, but I'm afraid he's going to tell me exactly what I want to hear and is going to make me fall for him again. Although it feels like I've never stopped falling.

On Saturday, Rory calls me for help. She's attending a gala with Braden and she needs help with the dress, make-up and hairstyle. I grab the chance to escape my flat and escape the possibility of Damien coming to my flat again. I don't know how much longer I'll be able to stand my ground.

"Ouch!" Rory winces as I press the brush a little too hard against her eyelid when doing her eye make-up.

I let out a strangled noise, rolling my eyes. "Stop being so sensitive," I retort.

"Well, try to be a little more gentle, yeah?" Rory murmurs.

I huff. "Do you say that to my brother, too?" I tease.

Rory's mouth falls open in shock and then a silent laughter comes out of it. "Not really. He knows how to be gentle." She bites down on her lip.

I literally gag, regretting I ever made that remark. "Shut up. Don't say anything else."

Rory laughs out fully now. "You started it!" she defends herself.

"I deeply regret it now," I mutter. I place my hands on her face. "Stop moving your head," I scold.

Rory rolls her lips inside her mouth. "Yes, boss," she says in full sarcasm.

I ignore her and continue with the task, concentrating on making it perfect. "You can open your eyes now," I tell her when I finish. 

I stand back and admire my handiwork, angling her head and narrowing my eyes on certain parts on her face. "Okay, it looks pretty awesome. Now look up at the ceiling," I order her.

I apply some eyeshadow on her lower lid, making sure my strokes are soft and gentle so I don't hurt her eye. 

I paint her lips with a lipstick and then I'm finished.

I clasp my hands together in excitement. "Now comes the fun part! Let's get you into that dress," I say all jolly.

"Aren't you excited today," Rory says quietly, staring at me. The corners of her lips tug up in a smile.

A frown falls on my lips. "And you're not even excited at all." I put my hands on lips, narrowing my eyes on her in suspicion. "Is something wrong? Something going on between you and my brother?" I want to know.

Rory shakes her head. "No, no. Not at all, everything's good between us. Perfect even. I'm just a little bit nervous after the last time being at an even like that with him. And all that drama with Victoria is getting down on me," she sighs tiredly, trying to rub her temples.

"No!" I shout, grabbing her hands and making her jump up in fright. "Do not, for whatever reason you might have, touch your face, or, God forbid, rub it. You're going to ruin all my hard work!" I gush.

Rory rolls her eyes at me. "Glad to know the make-up is more important to you than my well-being," she says sarcastically, dramatically. 

I grin sheepishly back at her with my teeth on full display. "You know I'm just joking," I sing-song. "Well, I'm serious about that part of you not touching your face," I joke, but I get serious instantly. "But being nervous about this event is pointless. Your relationship with Braden then was different than it is now. He didn't realise that he loved you back then. But now? God, Rory, he worships the ground you walk on. He'd do anything to protect you and I doubt he'd let you out of his sight."

Rory sighs deeply. "I guess you could be right ..." she murmurs absently.

I tsk and shake my head, crossing my arms over my chest. "I am right, no doubt about it. And about that Victoria bitch, she shouldn't cross your mind at all. She's just trying to come between us. I doubt that child is Braden's, to be honest. She spreads her legs for whoever looks twice her way and it wouldn't surprise me that she was cheating on Braden a long time before we found out about Antonio. I doubt he was the first one she cheated on with."

"You're completely right," she tells me. "I'm still scared of what it might come out if the tests who that Braden is, in fact, a father to her child."

I squat down so my eyes are on the same level as hers and I can look Rory straight in the face. I put my hands on hers, which are laying on her lap, and softly say, "Rory, you can't change that fact. If the child is Braden's or it isn't, he'd never leave you. At least not again," I mutter, still holding a grudge that he hurt Rory in the past. "He's going to do the right thing, but he's going to do it with you by his side."

"You're such a great person, Brooke. Someday, I swear you're going to find the one who'll see you for who you are and will worship every inch of you. He's going to thank the heavens every day to have you in his life."

I flush at her words, lowering my head as I laugh a bit uncomfortably. Yeah, I wouldn't be so sure about that. "I don't know where this came from, but thank you, Rory. You're an amazing person, too, and I'm happy my brother found you out in this harsh world." I look at her from under my lashes. 

She grins at me. "So, are you going to get me ready for tonight or do I have to wear jeans?" Rory teases.

I give her a mocking glare. "Over my dead body," I threaten.

     ◊    

"Look at the Princess, finally returning to her castle. Are you done ignoring your prince?" 

I sharply inhale when I hear Damien's voice as soon as I step out of the car. He's standing behind me. He's in his sweatpants and a thick shirt. He's sweating, even though it's really cold out. "Prince? I don't see him. If I did, I would sure not ignore him."

"Ah, kitten, you really are feisty with your words." 

"Better with words than silence." I wink at him. 

He comes towards me like he's on a hunt and I'm his prey. It's very unnerving, especially when his eyes don't look away from my face, looking at me so deeply as if he wants to carve my every feature in his memory. I'm doing the same with him. I can't help myself. I've never seen a better-looking man in my life. 

"Since when do you run in the evenings?" I ask before I can think my words through.

Damien's lips slightly curve upwards, revealing that half-hearted smile that makes me want to lie on the floor for hours. "You remember?" He shakes his head with a self-pleased smile. "I'm running twice a day now. I've got some ... tension I need to work out of my body." His eyes travel up and down my body while his stare gets serious and hot, his eyes getting that familiar fire in them.

My whole body shivers. I bite the inside of my lip so I don't say anything stupid or, even worse, moan out loud. "Oh," I say. I don't trust myself to say anything else so I don't.

"Want to come at my place?" Damien offers suddenly.

I purse my lips. "Not really, no." I'll be too busy watching some sappy movie, eating popcorn and feel sorry for my shitty life when couples on the screen start making out or, even worse, having sex. 

"Come on, Brooke. Give me something here. I'm trying."

"Yes, and I'm still trying to forgive you. I have a hard time processing you're actually here, Damien. Excuse me if I don't want to get involved with you in fear of you waking up and deciding to go away again. You lost my trust, you'll have to try harder to get it back."

"I can't do that if you're constantly pushing me away! Fuck, Brooke. I came back because of you, why the hell would I ever leave you again?"

"You tell me!" I almost shout in his face, all that anger that planted in me through the years, all the fury, the sadness, the humiliation - everything is coming out now. "You see, this is the problem, Damien. I don't believe a word you say!" 

"Goddamn it, Brooke, you're making this really fucking hard for me! I fucking want you, what is there to question about? I'm showing interest in you. Don't tell me you forgot me because I won't believe you. Finding some poor excuse of a guy that looks nothing like me didn't help, did it?"

Damien keeps putting salt on my wounds. He knows exactly which spot to hit. He reads me like a book and I doubt I was subtle with my interest towards him. My words might be negative, but my looks were eating him up, drinking him like I'm dehydrated and only a sight of him can satisfy me.

"That 'poor excuse of a guy' didn't leave me at least. He was there for me when you weren't. You really have no room to even speak about him," I throw back at him.

"That shit was cheating on you, so he wasn't really there for you all the time, huh?" Damien replies sarcastically, with rage. I notice his body got tense. I also notice we've come face to face somewhere mid-argument and are now standing really close to each other. Too close.

"You're such a moron. And a hypocrite. You're a bastard, Damien, a fucking piece of shit and I'll forever hate you for what you did." It takes a lot to hold back and not start sobbing as loud as I can. I want to. I want to let it all out, but I don't want him to know how much he hurt me. He doesn't deserve my tears.

"You won't. You won't hate me, Brooke," Damien says, his voice suddenly quiet and sad. I couldn't predict his next move and it throws me off guard. He places his hands on the nape of my neck, his touch soft, yet firm, pulling me closer to him so our faces are now closer together. "You won't hate me because I won't fucking let you," Damien breathes before he closes that distance to press his lips to mine in a desperate kiss.

I am so surprised by his unexpected move that I don't do anything else but just stand frozen. When my brain process what's actually happening, I let out a small sob before I kiss him back, feeling those familiar soft lips moving against me. I feel like a missing piece just fell back in place inside of me. I feel like I finally found the one thing I've been looking for without even knowing I was searching.

I feel so much all at once. I'm consumed with emotions, with overwhelming feelings that I've buried deep inside of me. The feelings I haven't felt since he left. He took something with him, a piece of me, that he brought back now and everything is like it should be. 

I bury my hands in his thick hair. I can't help it. I've been yearning for this. His hands are also everywhere, like he can't get enough of touching me. My hair, my neck, my hips, my ass, my back ... he's everywhere. His lips are moving against mine with a feverish speed. 

My body has been crying for his hands to touch me all these years that he was gone. I couldn't find this with anyone, I realise now that no one could come even close to Damien. No one could awake such feelings he does. 

It feels like my body was made only for him. He hurt me so much, yet I'm still craving him. I still get high by every look he gives me, obsessed with him giving me his attention. It's a form of killing me, yet it's the only thing keeping me alive. 

Damien leans me back against my car, showering my face with kisses, making sure he doesn't leave an inch of skin unkissed. The tears are streaming down my face. I don't know whether it's from relief, sadness, happiness or fear. 

It's getting too much for me. I can't take it. It's just too much, too fast. I'm filled with so many different emotions. I'm scared - terrified to give in.

I push Damien away from me with all the force I can muster, biting down on my lip, both hating and loving that I can taste him. "Don't. Don't kiss me like everything is okay between us. It's not. You ruined your chance three years ago, don't think I'll give in that easily."

"Brooke," Damien calls my name, his voice hoarse from emotions. I can hear the confusion in his tone and I feel like him looking at me in question, yet he doesn't make a move to touch me, for what I'm really grateful. 

I shake my head and run away from him. I can't be in his presence any longer. It's too much. Everything is just too much.

I lock myself in my flat and break down. This is the second time I'm crying over a man; and it's over the same one.