I end up throwing myself off the bed, landing square on my ass. I look up at the ceiling, annoyed as all fuck. I swear to God, if I can get through tonight, the final night of our sleep study, I will—I cut myself off. I don’t need to be making any more deals with Xander. Or with the devil. And sure as shit not God.
A moment later, I catch the sight of the curls before I even see his face. They’re just hanging over the mattress. Then, his hazel eyes appear. They dance with mischief. And I ignore the fact that my heart leaps. I can’t look away. So instead, I brace for impact. Then, I see his smart mouth. He holds it in a straight line and just when I think I’m out of the woods, he has the audacity to unleash a smirk.
Then, he pulls out one of his earbuds before saying through a laugh, “You good, Hutchinson?”
“I’m just great,” I say, through gritted teeth. Obviously, I’m not fucking great. And I’m not talking about the bruise on my ass bone that’s already starting to form.
His eyes dance over my face, just drinking me in. I removed all the makeup from the wedding. My hair is in a high ponytail. And I’m wearinghispajamas. Captain America boxers and all. It kind of became my uniform when we were—for lack of a better word—together. In theory, I should feel defenseless. But I don’t.
Then, his eyes linger on my shoulder, where his T-shirt has slipped, exposing my bra, and his eyes flare like I’m a slut from the twenties exposing too much skin.
Now it’s his turn to shake it off. I see him blink away that thought, but too late. It’s now stuck in my head. He scrapes his teeth over his bottom lip. Of course he does. Nothing like being distracted by filthy thoughts about those lips scraping over myinner thigh when you need tofocuson the fact that what we had is over. Fleeting and finished.
He stretches one arm out for the assist. And I stare at it like he’s grown a new appendage.
“You want to help me?” I say, sarcasm coming in thick. I don’t believe it.I hurt you.
“Yes, I do,” he says, so clear it can’t be misinterpreted.I love you.
“This isn’t some prank?” I say.Why would you?
“No,” he says.I’m not like the others.
I need to put an end to this emotional whatever-the-fuck. So I reach out for Xander’s hand and he pulls me up.
And my lips crash into his. Hard. Hot. Heavy.Stop talking.
His tongue responds, dining out on mine like it’s his last supper. I can feel him being sucked back into my orbit. He hauls me into his lap without breaking contact. My heart rate picks up and this time, I go with it. I let it beat wildly out of control. For Xander.
But the heart rate monitor starts going off. And it’s over just as quickly as it began.
We just stare at each other, gasping for air, unwilling to move on from this moment. His eyes search mine, looking for an answer. Looking for everything he’s wanted.
Looking for all of me.
And yet, I falter. Again. And he sees it. Sees me holding back. So he pulls away.
“I can’t do this with you anymore.” His words have the same effect as taking a cold shower.
“I’m sorry,” I say, crawling off him. Because of course I ended up in his lap straddling him.
“It’s okay. I can’t force you feel anything for me,” he says, accepting his fate. He returns the earbud back to his ear and settles back in.
Funny thing is, that’s exactly what he’s doing.
Making me feel everything.
There’s a knock on the door, and Ben enters the room. It only takes him a moment to look between us before he says, “Is everything okay?”
Yep. Just fucking great.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
We’re back in Dr. Waitley’s office. For the last time. Sitting next to each other. For the last time. Pretending to be a couple. For the last time.
Thank fuck.
I need my own bed. I need to sleep like a starfish and hog all the blankets and wake up in the morning feeling marvelous.
