Page 84 of Unsuitable

Fucking regret.

I feel like ice has just been poured all over me, the shards sharp and stinging against my skin.

His hand slips from my thigh, letting my leg drop to the floor. The sound of my shoe hitting the tiled floor is loud in this painful silence.

He steps back from me.

My chest hollows out.

“Kas…”

He turns on his heel and strides away, leaving me here.

What?

I sink back against the unforgiving wall.

What…just happened?

We were here and kissing, and it was amazing. I mean, he seemed to be enjoying himself. And then he…looked like he didn’t even know why he was kissing me, and he walked away without a word.

I don’t get it.

Or…

Maybe he just remembered exactly whom he was kissing.

Oh God.

I feel sick.

He really does think I’m beneath him.

Maybe I am.

I’m dirt-poor. Fresh out of prison. I carry more baggage than Heathrow Airport.

I’m trash.

I’m his cleaner, for God’s sake!

My eyes start to sting with tears. I press the heels of my hands to them.

Kas is good-looking and rich. Yeah, he’s an arsehole ninety percent of the time, but rich people get to be arseholes.

So, why in the world would a guy like him want a girl like me?

He wouldn’t—clearly.

He obviously got lost in the moment. I was an easy way to spend a few minutes.

And didn’t I just give it up? I would have had sex with him if he’d asked.

Jesus. I’m such a fool.

My face starts to burn with shame and embarrassment.

Don’t I ever learn? Didn’t I get burned enough by the last man I let close?