Page 93 of The Ache That Stayed

Then she walked out without another glance.

Hair swinging. Hips swaying. Enough to make me want to pin her down and fuck some sense into both of us.

I tasted blood from biting the inside of my cheek too hard.

I slowly turned toward Blondie, wrapping my fingers around her frail wrist and yanking her hand off me.

“Next time ask before touching a man. Consent goes both ways.” I leaned in slightly. “Unless you want to lose the hand.”

I slapped a few pounds on the table and shoved past her, blood still hot in my mouth, and stepped out into the corridor.

The storm had quieted—but not enough. Not inside me.

I saw Roxanne ahead, already halfway down the hallway, keys in her hand, shoulders tight, trying to hold herself together.

Running. Again.

Not this time.

I picked up my pace and went after her.

Fury and irritation tangled inside me as I followed her down the corridor, every step pounding with one truth—I wasn’t letting her walk away again.

CHAPTER 24

Santino

I‘d caught up to Roxanne in seconds, following her down the corridor to her room.

She had barely slid the key into the lock before I shoved the door open and crowded in behind her, kicking it shut.

She spun around so fast her breath caught, like she might lose her balance.

“Were you following me?” she snapped.

“Yes.”

I didn’t even pretend otherwise. My chest was heaving.

“You ran.”

“I’m not like you,” she shot back. “I just didn’t feel like watching your dick get sucked by that blonde.”

My mouth curved, slow and dangerous.

“You looked like you wanted to claw her skin off.”

She stepped closer, eyes blazing.

“Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t. What difference does it make to you?”

Everything. But I didn’t say it.

“Why didn’t you come back?” I asked instead, voice low, edged. “Why didn’t you call?”

She threw her hands up in frustration.

“In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a fucking storm. No transport. And it was too late to travel alone.”