I’m five minutes early, but to Alec, that’s ten minutes late, so I hustle around the corner until he comes into view.
Dammit. Why does he have to look so fucking good every time I see him? Iknowhe’s bad for me. IknowI need to end it. I know if I don’t do it now, I’ll lose my nerve. But then he pulls me in for a hug, and I take a deep breath, inhaling his cologne. Old Spice. I’ve always had a weakness for that scent.
“I’ve missed you,” he purrs in my ear, and when he kisses me, his mouth is velvet heat, firm, yet still soft. He captures my lip gently, then tugs, just once as his fingers thread through my hair. “I don’t want to fight, Quint. Ever. Just tell me what you want from me and I’ll give it to you. Anything at all.”
He’s so earnest, I want to believe him.
And I have. More than once. Hell, I even have screenshots of his text messages. He promised me a hundred times to stop talking about my impending “breakdown.” To give me however many nights a week I need to work on my app. To go to whatever therapist I want—together.
Most narcissists are experts at becoming someone else. They’ll promise you the world. Then take it away in the next instant.
“Alec, I—”
I fumble for my phone where I have a dozen of these warnings and affirmations saved in my notes app just in case.
“Wait. I want to show you something first,” he says. “And you’re freezing out here.” Wrapping his hand around my arm, he swipes a keycard over a secured door to a four-story condo complex. It’s brand new construction, and only a couple of the units have lights on.
Despite being about to tell him what I needed—and having him cut me off and ignore me like he always does—I let him lead me up three flights of stairs where he presses a key into my hand. “Open the door.”
“What is this?” He doesn’t live here. His apartment is ten miles away.
“Just open the door.” Now he’s impatient, and my shoulders tense, sending a headache curling up from my neck all the way to my forehead. It’s easier to do what he says than argue, and I need to take a deep breath—or three—before I can tell him I’m breaking up with him.
As soon as I walk into the condo, I understand his game. This is exactly the kind of place I’ve always wanted. Floor to ceiling windows that look out over the city. Sleek, modern lines, stainless steel appliances, marble countertops. All open space.
It’s largely empty. A couch along one wall. Flat screen mounted over a fireplace. And a bottle of wine and two glasses next to the sink.
“Alec? What did you do?” I ask, turning to find him only inches from me. Instinctively, I take a step back, but he follows, tugs off my jacket, and reaches for me. “Stop. Tell me what’s going on right now.”
“This place could be ours. I have an option on it for the next forty-eight hours. It comes furnished. There’s a bed, and I packed us an overnight bag…”
“No!” The word escapes harsher than I’d normally risk, but this is too much. The exactoppositeof what I wanted to happen tonight. “You promised to give me space. I have it in writing.” I pull out my phone and try to scroll through the thousands and thousands of messages he’s sent me over the past few months. “You said…you said we could take things slow.”
Frantic, knowing I’m going to lose this battle if I don’t take a stand right the fuck now, I keep scrolling until Alec snatches the device from my hand and shoves it intohispocket.
“I need my phone,” I say, my voice trembling.
He surges forward, his hands cupping my head as he crushes his lips to mine. I stumble, and my back hits the kitchen counter. I don’t want this. When he bites down and I taste blood, I jerk my head away.
“What the fuck?” The stinging in my lower lip distracts me, and I don’t notice him undoing my belt until he’s already slid the zipper on my pants down. “Alec, please. We’re not…I can’t do this.”
Shock steals my next words as he spins me around and bends me forward over the counter, his fingers digging into my ass. His favorite position. A way for him to top me without having to see my face.
That icy ball I’ve carried around all day long? It’s taken over my entire body. I don’t even fight him. IknowI should, but I can’t.
“You want this, Quint. You know you do. We’re so good together.”
Tell him no. Tell him to stop.
But I’m frozen until he spits on his hand. There is no way I’m letting him fuck his way out of this. If he does...I’ll stay. I know I will.
“Get away from me.” I buck and kick, but with my pants around my ankles, I only catch him in the shin. He swears under his breath and stumbles back, and when I face him again, the rage in his eyes… Shit. I never thought he’d physically hurt me. Not beyond rough sex.
But right now? He’s scaring me.
“I’m leaving,” I say, forcing as much bravado as I can into my words. “I never want to see you again, Alec. Don’t call. Don’t text. Don’t come to my apartment. Or my work. Leave me alone. We’re done.”
I’m shaking so badly, it’s hard to pull my pants up, grab my coat, and edge around the counter to the door, but I don’t want to turn my back on him. Screw my cell phone. I can get a new one.
