Chapter 5: I can't stop thinking about you

~∆~ Mariah's POV ~∆~

It's been three days since I saw Rain and I'm losing my mind. I can't explain what's happening to me.

I've tried everything to get him out of my head. Extra work hours, yoga classes, even a shopping trip with my best friend Sophia that resulted in me buying a costly dress I'll never wear, to have something to focus on besides green eyes and a rough, deep voice saying my name.

Nothing works.

It doesn't help that I can hear him through the thin walls. The shower is running at ungodly hours, probably after late hockey practices.

Yesterday, I heard what sounded like a woman's laughter coming from his place, and the spike of jealousy that shot through me was so intense it actually made me disgusted with myself.

It's insane, because I have a boyfriend. A boyfriend who's been nothing but sweet and attentive, who brings me coffee every morning and texts me constantly throughout the day to make sure I'm okay.

A boyfriend who's here now.

"You seem distracted lately," Ethan says, settling onto my couch with two glasses of wine. It's Friday night, and he's insisted on a quiet evening in, just the two of us, no distractions, "quality time" as he puts it.

I should be grateful. Most women would kill for a boyfriend who wants to spend his Friday night curled up on the couch instead of out at bars with his friends. Instead, I feel trapped.

"Just work stress," I lie, accepting the wine and taking a bigger sip than necessary. "The Morrison project is kicking my ass."

"The hockey player again?" Ethan's voice carries a hint of irritation and suspicion. "What exactly does he want you to design for him?"

Right. I'd forgotten about my fictional client named Morrison. The lie I created to explain my distraction, not realizing how close to the truth it actually was.

"Rebranding," I say vaguely. "Logo, website, social media presence. Standard athlete stuff."

"Hmm." Ethan moves closer on the couch, his arm sliding around my shoulders. "Maybe I should meet this Morrison guy. Make sure he's treating you professionally."

My blood runs cold. "That's not necessary. It's all very professional, I promise."

"I'm sure it is. But you've been working late a lot lately, and you seem... tense." His nose brushes against my neck, just below my ear. "When's the last time we had some real alone time?"

His words are clear, and my body's response is immediate panic. Not arousal, not anticipation... but full-blown panic.

"I'm just tired," I say, pulling away slightly. "Rain check?"

Disappointment flashes across his features, but he nods. "Of course. I don't want to pressure you."

But even as he says it, his hand is moving to my thigh, his thumb tracing small circles through my jeans. It's a gesture that used to make me melt. Now it just makes me feel scared.

"Ethan..."

A loud crash from next door cuts me off, followed by cursing that definitely belongs to Rain. Something heavy hits the shared wall, making a picture frame shake.

Ethan's entire body goes rigid. "What the hell was that?"

"Probably just moving furniture," I say quickly, but Ethan is already standing, his nostrils flaring in that way that means his wolf is close to the surface.

"That's the neighbor, isn't it? Cross?"

Before I can answer, there's another crash, followed by sounds of breaking glass.

"Maybe I should check on him," I say, already moving toward the door. It's the perfect excuse to escape this conversation, and if Rain is actually hurt...

"We should check on him," Ethan corrects, following me. "Together."

Shit.

I knock on Rain's door, my heart hammering for reasons that have nothing to do with concern for his wellbeing. "Rain? Everything okay in there?"

The door opens, and my mouth goes dry.

Rain is shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of low-slung sweatpants that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination.

His chest is broad and defined, covered with a light dusting of dark hair that disappears beneath the waistband of his pants. There's a thin sheen of sweat on his skin, and his hair is messed up like he's been running his hands through it.

But it's the cut on his forearm that makes me gasp, a thin line of red that's dripping blood onto his floor.

"Jesus, you're bleeding," I say, stepping forward instinctively.

"It's nothing," Rain says, but his voice is rougher than usual. "Just had a disagreement with a picture frame."

"That's not nothing." I'm already moving past him into his apartment. "Do you have a first aid kit?"

"Mariah..." Ethan's voice carries a warning, but I ignore it.

Rain's apartment is even more of a disaster than before. Boxes everywhere, furniture pushed against walls, and in the center of the living room, the remains of what used to be a large framed photograph.

The glass is scattered across the floor in jagged pieces, and I can see drops of blood leading from the mess to where Rain is standing.

"Bathroom," I say firmly. "First aid kit. Now."

"I can handle it myself," Rain protests, but he's looking at me with an intensity that makes my skin prickle with awareness.

"Just let me help," I say softly, and he reluctantly nod.

His bathroom is surprisingly clean for someone who's been living out of boxes. I find the first aid kit under the sink and gesture for him to sit on the edge of the bathtub.

"This might sting," I warn, pulling out antiseptic wipes.

"I've had worse," he says, but his breath hitches slightly when I touch the wipe to his cut.

His skin is warm under my fingers, and I can feel the tension in his muscles as I clean the wound. It's not deep, thankfully, but it's long enough to need bandaging.

"What happened?" I ask, trying to focus on the medical task instead of the way his proximity is making my heart race.

"Knocked over a picture," he says shortly. "Tried to catch it. Bad decision."

I glance at his face and I see his dark expression. "Must have been some picture."

"My ex-girlfriend." The words come out emotionless. "Natasha. I was finally throwing away the last of her stuff when the frame slipped."

My hands are still on his arm. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Should have done it months ago." His eyes meet mine, and the intensity there makes my breath catch. "Some things are better left in the past."

I'm suddenly very aware of how close we are. I'm standing between his knees, his bare chest inches from my face, and the scent of him is making my head spin.

"Mariah?" Ethan's voice from the living room sounds strained. "Everything okay?"

"Fine," I call back, but my voice comes out breathier than intended. "Just finishing up."

I force myself to focus on applying the bandage, but Rain's eyes never leave my face. When I'm done, I should step back. Put some distance between us. Remember that I have a boyfriend waiting in the other room.

Instead, I find myself smoothing my thumb over the edge of the bandage, making sure it's secure.

"Thank you," Rain says quietly, and his voice is so rough it sends shivers down my spine.

"You're welcome." I look up at him, and the world seems to narrow to just this moment, this bathroom, this man looking at me like I'm the answer to a question he's been asking his whole life.

"Mariah." My name on his lips is barely a whisper, but it feels like a physical touch.

I lean closer without meaning to, drawn by a force I can't explain. His hands come up to frame my face, his thumbs tracing my cheekbones, and I can see my own desire reflected in his eyes.

"We shouldn't," I whisper, but I don't pull away.

"I know," he breathes, his face inches from mine. "But I can't stop thinking about you."

The confession takes my breath away. "Rain..."

"Everything okay in here?"

We spring apart like we've been burned. Ethan is standing in the bathroom doorway, his blue eyes taking in the scene with laser focus.