I’m still married and still healing.
“Stop saying these things to me.” I swipe my knuckles against my cheeks. “You can’t say these things to me.”
I stand and walk toward the fireplace. He follows from behind. He places his forearm across the bricks, leaning against them, while I try to detach from this moment—from him.
I’m leaving. I need to remind myself of that fact becauseeven if we become friends, I refuse to lean on someone else when I need to be strong for myself. This is a fight I need to face alone. Peering over my shoulder to wish him a goodnight, I stall. He clenches his jaw with a pointed chin as he watches me. He’s so close to me. So close, I can’t think straight. So I focus on the red, orange, and yellow flames flickering in front of us and pretend he’s not next to me, hovering.
“Why can’t I say these things to you?”
I shake my head, my nostrils flaring.
“You just can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ll fall for it,” I clip, turning around. “I’ll start to like you more than I should, and I don’t think I’m ready to trust another person. I just met you!”
A grin crests his face.
“You like me, sweetheart? I thought I was a dick?” He takes a step closer.
I roll my eyes.
“You are a dick,” I spit teasingly. “Sometimes.” My lips lift.
“Dance with me,” he whispers.
“What?” I turn to him.
“I dare you to dance with me.”
Dancing is too intimate. Too intertwining.
It’s not a one-night stand. It’s emotional. I examine his hand, his smile, those damn perfect blue eyes that resemble a summer sky, and that body I can’t help but want to wrap my arms around like the night I woke up with him in his bed. I need to stay focused and think about all the reasons why dancing with him would be a bad idea. If I do, I’ll fall for him. And I can’t fall for him when I’m still trying to learn how to trust again.
It’s unfair to both of us, and I don’t want to have sex with another man, and then get ghosted. I’m not ready for those types of games.
Instead, I dart toward his bedroom for the night. I’m sealingup these walls again, hardening them until they’re steel, but I’m afraid it’s no match for Gavin Ariksen, so I’m taking the coward’s way out and running away.
With a heaving chest, heated veins, and burning cheeks, I lock the door behind me, sagging against it until my ass hits the floor. He doesn’t waste a second. He’s at the door, softly knocking, but I don’t have the energy to fight our attraction. This is as much as I can give him.
“Cora?”
Silence.
“Answer me.”
Silence.
“Coraline. We’re going to finish the game.”
I can’t.
“I dare you.” He raises his voice. “I dare you to stop being so fucking scared and kiss me.”
CHAPTER 24
GAVIN
