Sparks Fly

Chapter Eighteen: Breakfast Conversations and Chai Tea

Well, I'm back. Sorry it took so long. Writer's block really sucks.

Hope you like this chapter. Don't forget to comment (and vote if you like).

Thank you!

--VIVKELLER23

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Teagan

Now you've done it, you horny bastard.

Inner-voice Gavin wasn't pulling his punches. For once, Teagan was forced to agree with him. What on Earth had he been thinking to put his hands on the one woman he knew he could never have? The thing was he hadn't been thinking at all, not past the wild look of hurt and need he'd seen in the purple depths of her eyes. Worse still, he'd used more than just his hands to touch her, to taste her, to burn her and himself past the point of no return.

He was a fool, a fool who couldn't keep his hands off the Ice Queen with all her icy secrets. There was so much to her he still didn't know, but he could see that she yearned to leave some of the load she carried behind. It was there every time she found herself smiling at something Tilden said or something he did. If she thought too much about it, the smile disappeared to be replaced by a look of doubt. That pissed him off. She of all people deserved to smile after the way she'd been misunderstood and ignored, overlooked because people were too focused on the facade she provided to look closer than the cold surface.

God, she wasn't cold at all. He'd only gotten a taste of what the real woman was like underneath the icy exterior, but he hadn't stopped wanting more. Two frigging days after that explosive kiss, and Teagan Miller was far from satisfied. He'd never had to wait so long for a single kiss. Now waiting was all he could do.

She'd been the one to practically demand he do something about this thing between them. She'd been the one to melt into him, the one to answer his ardor with her own. She'd also been the one to finally pull away from him without so much as a "thank you, see ya later." He didn't know what to make of it all. He'd never been in a position to wait on anyone to hit him up before, so this was new territory for him.

"Oh, you're still here."

Teagan winced at the slurred tone of his father's voice. It was only nine in the morning, yet from the sounds of it, the old man had already gotten more than his fair share of the good stuff from his liquor cabinet.

His father stumbled into the kitchen, smirking when he saw the two plates of toast and scrambled eggs set on the table. "You expecting company?" he sneered, baring his set of uneven teeth.

How many mornings had they gone through this very scene? Teagan wondered. And why did he still try to provide some semblance of order, of family, when he knew it was never going to amount to anything?

It angered him. Not the fact that his father was a worthless drunk who could hold down his liquor about as well as he could hold down a job. No, what angered him, what really messed with his head, was that he could have come so close to killing the bastard for being a selfish, loveless monster all those years ago. And yet, Teagan would still wake up early in the mornings to make breakfast for two.

Frigging idiot. "No, actually. You see, I know you'd like to go on binging on alcohol until you drown out all the stupid things you did to ruin the only good thing you had in life. But me?" Teagan shook his head. "I prefer you live a long, miserable life. Maybe with a full belly you'll be able to stomach the fact you're a pathetic waste of space."

Jameson Miller laughed, but the sound wasn't a nice one. "Aren't you the self righteous bastard today?" With a hard look full of hate out of his cold grey eyes, he took a seat to shovel a spoonful of eggs down his throat.