Grumpy Romance: Chapter 15
Grumpy Romance : A Romantic Comedy (Billionaire Dads)
KENYA
I follow him because Iâm an idiot. Obviously. And because alcohol is an inhibition killer. Which means Iâm moving on pure instinct right now.
Thatâs dangerous.
My impulses have been swerving more and more towards a carnal desire for my boss. Bad enough when heâs barking at me. Even more annoying when heâs dark and brooding and wearing his grief on his sleeve.
Heâs obviously torn up about something and, as someone going through my own emotional rollercoaster, I can see it a mile away. The agitation. The pain flickering close to the surface. The blistering need to drown it with something. Anything.
Am I offering myself as a sacrifice?
I donât know.
I only know what this canât be. A relationship.
Heâs my boss and he has a kid and a dead wife he still obviously loves. And I have⦠student loans and a sister who wants to marry my boyfriend.
Oh, right. Ex boyfriend.
And ex⦠sister? Is that a thing?
I lift my face to the sky and watch the stars parading overhead. The world normally feels so big when I look up but, right now, it feels like Iâm shrinking. Like Iâll disappear if it doesnât stop.
I wrap my arms around myself, trying to stay grounded. Alistair misinterprets the move and shrugs out of his jacket.
âIâm fine,â I bite out.
He pins it roughly on my shoulders, totally ignoring me. As usual.
The jerk.
I shove the jacket off me. He stops and pulls it back on. This time, he takes my arms and slides them into the sleeves. His face is set like stone, but his touch is⦠gentle. Just as gentle as it was when he hugged me outside Sunnyâs apartment that night.
What is going on right now?
Heâs not a man that looks like he knows the meaning of âgentleâ. Until that night, I didnât think he had a pulse. If anyone told me Alistair was a blood-sucking vampire, I would totally believe it.
âThere,â he says quietly. âTake it off again and I wonât be so nice next time.â
Thatâs the Alistair I know. Bossy, rude, arrogant.
When heâs tender, when heâs something close to a decent human being, itâs too crazy. It makes it hard to breathe.
I glare up at him. âWhere are we going?â
âI donât know. Iâm just walking.â
âYou? The Must Have a Back-Up Plan guy is on the move without a goal?â
He scowls.
I scowl back. âWhy did you thank me in front of everyone?â
âI scolded you in front of everyone.â He makes a sharp gesture with his hand. âItâs fair to reward you publicly too.â
âPeople will talk.â
âAbout what? Nothing I said tonight was a lie.â His eyes burn into me.
Thereâs something wild in them. Something unpredictable. It scares me. Not because Iâm afraid heâll hurt me. Iâm afraid heâll find that wild, unpredictable side of me too and yank it out.
I canât afford for that to happen.
Lifting my chin, I stop near a bench under a lamppost. âYou know how suspicious everyone is about my position at Belleâs Beauty. And you also know how much I wanted acknowledgement. So you gave me what I wanted in a way thatâll be sure to hurt me.â
âI didnât know you subscribed to conspiracy theories, Miss Jones.â
I step closer to him. âYouâre diabolical enough to think of something that malicious.â
âI see.â A shuttered look crosses his handsome face.
My breath hitches.
âIf Iâm such an evil person,â he takes a step toward me, âthen why,â another step, âdid you follow me all the way here?â
I scramble back, but my thighs hit the bench. Gravity decides it hates me and shoves me into the chair. Instead of helping me, Alistair bends over the bench and cages me in with both hands.
âYou poke at a bear and then you yell when you get clawed. Tell me, Miss Jones,â his eyes caress my body, âhow is that fair?â
An ache starts in my stomach and travels straight between my thighs. I swear, itâs like I have a second pulse.
âYou dared me to follow you,â I whisper, my voice heated. âAnd you know I like a challenge.â
âWill you do anything I dare you to?â His breath is hot against my face. His fingers dig into the back of the bench, not touching me and yet touching me everywhere.
Iâm a puddle of aching confusion and clashing emotions. Weâre not equals. Heâs not even trying to pretend that he regards me as one. Iâm just the most convenient person to toy with because I was foolish enough to fall for his crap.
Annoyed with myself, I put away the goo-goo eyes and push him back. He eases up with a proud smirk as if he made some kind of point. What that point is? I have no idea because Iâm already in motion.
Grabbing his tie, I pull him down. The move wouldnât normally work because heâs twice my size and pure muscle, but I catch him off-guard.
Alistair plummets into the bench, his palms going flat. The wooden chair trembles, but it doesnât turn over. Itâs bolted properly into the ground.
His eyes widen in shock. Good. Iâm not his bumbling second assistant. Weâre not at the office. And whatever this is, it needs to be on my terms too.
I slam my hands on either side of the bench, my words low and clipped. Because of the height difference, his head is in line with mine. I probably donât look as intimidating to him as he did to me.
Whatever. It gets the point across.
âDonât mess with me, Alistair.â My voice is a threat. âIf weâre going to cross a line, we do it together. You donât drag me. You donât trick me. You donât boss me around.â I let the tie drop and smooth it down his chest. âIf itâs truth or dare, you play too.â
His eyes light up with a primal glint. What was meant to bring us on equal footing has only pulled me deeper into his clutches.
A shudder runs down my spine when his lips curl up. His fingers tease a line down my shoulder blade to my elbow. âYou donât know how dangerous this is, do you?â
The vodka shots I took must be curdling my better judgement because I really want to see how dangerous this can get.
His eyes flit to my mouth.
I can hear my breath thickening.
Itâs painful to keep my distance, but I resist the urge to plant my lips on his and get him back for all the ways he made my life a living hell.
Itâs a nice impulse, but it wonât feel like a punishment. At least, not for him.
âDid you mean it?â I whisper.
His hands slide around my waist. Theyâre big. Warm. Teasing. âMean what?â
My knees buckle. I lean a little more against the bench. Which causes me to lean more into him. My chest is practically dangling in his face but, to his credit, heâs keeping his focus on my eyes.
âWhat you said tonight.â I frown. My second pulse is turning into a roaring, throbbing inferno. Why are there words? Itâs screaming. Why are there still clothes on?
I dig my fingers into the wooden bench.
Alistair stares hard at me. I can see his sincerity when he says, âYou saved the Baby Box deal. Thatâs the truth. And⦠I shouldnât have yelled at you. Even if you were out of line.â
Heâs doing that uber masculine thing where heâs apologizing without really saying the word âsorryâ.
I press him. âIs that a real, live apology, Mr. Alistair?â
âIâm only half the bastard you think I am, Miss Jones.â
âThatâs still too much bastard for me.â
His thumb traces a circle on my hip. âYou have no idea how much trouble that mouth will get you into.â
âI guess youâre going to enlighten me?â
Our eyes hold and linger.
His is scorching. Second-degree burns.
Need claws its way up my chest. Thereâs too much fabric in the way. His coat. My dress. My underwear. Too many barriers from my skin to his.
He caresses my cheek. âThank you.â
âFinally,â I breathe out, moving my hand from the bench to his shoulder. âAlthough, now that Iâve gotten to hear those words from you, I need to find something else to work towardsââ
Before I can finish the sentence, his big hands tighten over my waist and tug me forward. Itâs a quick, decisive move. One minute, Iâm bent over him, the next Iâm folding into his body.
My palms land flat on the back of the bench as my mouth collides with his. I stiffen in shock. My brain struggles to make sense of the kiss.
Then Alistair tilts his head, adjusting the angle.
Suddenly, I donât care about making sense of anything.
Screw being rational.
Screw worrying about where this leaves us tomorrow.
I push into him, allowing my hands to skate over the back of his neck and into his soft hair. It feels like silk against my fingertips.
Iâm not used to that.
Every boyfriend Iâve ever had has been black. Black hair is different. When I rake my fingers in, I meet coils like mine. Beautiful and coarse and rough. Iâm used to the thickness and resistance.
Of all the things to trip me up, Alistairâs hair is the last thing I expected. It slips between my fingers. Itâs long enough to clutch. To tug.
And I do, delighting when he groans in response.
Oh, you like that?
He rewards me by bending his head and deepening the kiss.
Iâm not being savored.
Iâm being devoured.
He tastes my mouth, exploring the inside of my lip and inhaling every airy breath that escapes from me.
Itâs the hottest kiss Iâve ever had as the starry sky is my witness. And I wonder if Iâm going to die right here.
Oh, but what a way to go.
I shift my weight over him. Right over the heat thatâs straining against me.
Itâs agonizing.
Perfect torture.
And I know Iâm going to be addicted to kissing him if it keeps on feeling like this.
His arms are rock-hard. Chiseled muscles.
I canât feel my legs.
A moan slides out of me, pressing hard against his body.
He grips the back of my neck tight and I sigh, forgetting everything but how amazing he feels. When he hears me, his kiss changes. The motions, the intensity. Like a switch, it moves from angry to gentle. Full of promises. All kinds of vows he canât keep.
This man will destroy me and Iâll go quietly to my end, smiling at the privilege.
He leans back slowly. My eyes fall shut because I donât want to see whatâs left of the fire that burned us both. Thereâs rarely anything beautiful in the ashes. I donât care how many fortune cookies claim otherwise.
Alistair leans his forehead against mine. The heat from the kiss lingers, cascading against the sliver of space left between us.
His thumb flicks across my bottom lip.
My mouth opens and my eyes meet his. An energy whips around us when our gazes connect. Itâs all anticipation and yearning. A yearning so strong it takes my breath away.
This doesnât feel like an alcohol-fueled make out session. Itâs almost like⦠heâs been thinking about thisâabout meâfor a very long time.
But that makes no sense.
The kiss must have melted my brain.
We hate each other⦠while wanting to tear each otherâs clothes off.
But hate⦠is⦠itâs better if we keep that part simple.
I struggle to catch my breath, panting in short spurts while my body is still liquid heat.
Crap.
âIââ
âDonât.â He stares at me and touches one of my curls reverently. âYou can lie to everyone else, but not to me. And I donât want to lie to you. Not anymore.â
My eyelashes flutter. I canât say anything.
His fingers wrap around my hand. He lifts it to his mouth. âI donât know what this is, but I know it isnât a mistake. Iâm not going to blame it on booze. Iâm not going to throw our hormones under the bus. Iâm not going to ask you to be friends with benefits or whatever crap the kids call it these days.â
âW-what?â
âYou said weâd cross this line together. Fine. The line is behind us now. Itâs too late to walk it back with stupid excuses neither of us will buy.â
I shake my head. âWe canât.â
âWe canât what.â
I glare at him. âYou know what.â
âNo, Kenya. Spell it out.â
His voice is hard again. Demanding.
âThis,â I spit it out. âWe canât do this.â
âYou werenât complaining a second ago.â
âHard to complain when your tongue is stuck down someoneâs throat.â
He blinks. And then he laughs.
I scowl at him.
âYouâre cute.â
âIâll bite your face.â
âPlease do.â He tilts his head to me. Heâs a caveman in an Italian suit. All grunts and growls and firm hands.
âIâm not offering any more thanâ¦â
âThan?â
I glance away.
âYour intentions were to hook up with me and then bring me coffee tomorrow like nothing happened?â
âTomorrow is Saturday.â
âWhere else would I be but work?â His lips quirk up. âAnd nice attempt at changing the subject.â
âYouâre not supposed to bring logic into this.â Annoyance inches across my back. The alcohol isnât strong enough. Or maybe itâs that Alistairâs charisma is too intense. Not even liquor can win against him.
âThen how would you like this to go?â
âWe never speak of it again. We keep on working together like nothing happened.â
He tilts his head, his hands never leaving my waist. âYou kiss me like that and you want me to pretend it never happened?â
âIââ
âI have a daughter, Miss Jones.â His voice is hard, but his eyes are⦠theyâre begging me to find the answers hidden within them. âI have two businesses to run. I have⦠I need to make up for some things in my past. To make matters worse, you are my employee. The ramifications extend far beyond sleeping with you for one night. Or even two. Unlike you,â his hands slide down my waist and thereâs a hint of affection, âI donât act on pure impulse.â
Iâm confused. It sounds like heâs⦠like this isnât justâ¦
Heat sears my throat. âWhat are you saying?â
âI canât stop thinking about you.â
My heart goes still.
No way.
Mr. Evil Incarnateâmy gorgeous, torture specialist of a bossâis not confessing to me.
âI know clearly all the reasons I shouldnât say these words. And I also understand what will happen if this relationship goes downhill. I know it all and I still canât get you out of my head.â
My gut clenches and my heart jumps straight to my throat.
His lips arch up in a wicked grin. âNo witty comebacks, Miss Jones? Now would be the perfect time to slip one in.â
The taunting is just what I need to slap some sense into my head.
I push off his shoulders, trying to get back on my feet because Iâm still draped on top of him. And thatâs not exactly the best place to be. Not with him confessing his feelings and blowing my mind.
But Alistair drags me down into his lap and wraps his arms around me. Iâm trapped.
âWhat are you doing?â
âDonât ignore my question. Itâs rude.â
âYouâre the rude one.â I try to pry his fingers off.
He holds firm. âI warned you that following me might end in something you regret.â He sighs into my neck, still using that annoying teacher voice. âBut you just had to be difficult, as usual. If you werenât so headstrong, Kenya, neither of us would be in this position.â
âSo youâre blaming me because you feel some type of way?â
âSome type of way. I like that. But Iâm afraid weâve gone beyond mere feelings. I have different intentions, Miss Jones.â
âYouâre talking nonsense.â
âWhat part of this is nonsense? Come on now. I know you can come up with something better than that.â
âYouâre despicable.â
âKeep talking dirty to me. See if I donât take you right here on this bench.â
My jaw drops.
He nuzzles his nose against my cheek. âHate me. Go ahead. Loathe me if you have to. But Iâm not letting you go until Iâm ready.â His hazel eyes go electric. âJust in case you missed it, I mean more than just letting you out of my arms.â
None of this is making sense. I knew there was sexual tension. Sure. I was willing to explore that. I thought heâd drag me to a hotel room. Let us duke it out. Crash a few lamps. Tear a few curtains off their hinges. Iâd rake my nails down his back the way I always imagined raking out his eyes.
And then weâd clean up and leave it behind with the kinks out of our system. Iâd return to my dartboard with the Holland Alistair picture. Heâd return to barking orders at me like the grump that he is.
This is not⦠that.
He twines his fingers in mine. âNow that Iâve jumped off that cliff, should we go tear up a hotel room now?â
I shove him. âYouâre not funny.â
âIt was my first attempt at a joke in four years. Have some mercy on me.â
The specific year count reminds me of his wife. My expression shifts.
His sobers too.
I clear my throat.
He squeezes my leg. âYou can ask me.â
âI have no questions.â If I start prying beneath King Grumpâs hard shell, I might start unearthing real, non-jump-his-bones related feelings. And wouldnât that be a disaster for everybody?
Alistair sighs and opens his mouth but, at that moment, a car turns down the lane. The headlights are bright. Heavy. Spotlights on top of me. I feel exposed here, sitting on my bossâs lap in the middle of the night
The restaurant isnât that far away. Any of my coworkers can see me. I donât want to imagine the stink Heather will raise if she catches me straddling Holland Alistair with my chest in his face.
Planting my hands on his shoulders, I scramble off him and land two feet away. Alistair gives me a strange look, but his attention is captured by the fancy car that slows to a stop near us.
I blink rapidly when I see Ezekiel climbing out of the vehicle and trotting over.
âThere you are,â he says with a worried frown.
âWhat are you doing here?â Alistair scowls. âIs that Bernard?â
âI called him.â
âWhy? I gave him the night off.â
âYou drank alcohol when you havenât touched the stuff in years. Then you stormed away looking like you were going to fall apart andâ¦â His eyes catch on me and he clamps his mouth shut. âMiss Jones.â
âEzekiel.â I dip my chin and hope like crazy he canât tell where my lips have been.
Alistair rises arrogantly, completely unashamed. He draws his thumb across his bottom lip, pulling my attention there. My eyes bug when I see the red sheen over his mouth.
Thatâs my lipstick.
I cringe.
And my foundation.
Another thing I didnât realize about making out with a man the color of a napkin. Makeup transfers. And since mine is a dark burgundy brown, Alistairâs face is the perfect white canvas.
Ezekiel, to his credit, makes note of all the evidence and coaxes his face into an expressionless mask. âSince Iâve verified that youâre okay, Iâll send Bernard back.â
âNo need.â Alistair takes my hand in his.
My eyes bug. I try to squeeze my fingers out.
He holds steady. âWeâll drop Miss Jones home first.â
Heâs insane. Heâs arrogance personified and now heâs pointing all that explosive billionaire ego at me.
Itâs not like Iâm against having Holland Alistair on the side.
I want to kiss him again.
I want to tear his clothes off.
I want to hear him groan when we collide. I want that heat to consume me.
But I donât want to get lost in this man. Besides, people will misunderstand. I canât have anyone questioning how I got my position. Respect is something I worked my butt off to earn. One little rumor will destroy everything.
âI can get my own ride,â I hiss.
He gives me a dark look. âItâs late. And this ride is free.â
âNothing in life is free.â
He smirks. âYouâre right. I have some ideas about how Iâll collect from you.â
My eyes widen.
He smirks, clearly enjoying my horror.
This isnât funny. I accelerated to my position because Alistair plucked me out of my entry-level job and thrust me into the big leagues. Despite the challenges, I proved that Iâm capable.
Me.
I did that on my own.
But he can tear it all away from me.
Not that Holland Alistair cares.
He tugs me to the vehicle and opens the door. âGet in.â
âYouâre a real prick. Have I mentioned that?â
âYou have.â He leans into my space, his eyes narrowing. âAnd Iâll allow it because itâs really freaking hot when you snap at me.â He frowns. âBut donât do it too often in the office or I canât promise Iâll be able to control myself.â
I grit my teeth.
Ezekiel clears his throat and shuffles awkwardly. âAlistair?â
âSave your concern, Ezekiel.â He gestures to me. âMiss Jones hasnât agreed to anything yet, but Iâm working on it. When I succeed, Iâll inform you.â
His cheeks get red.
Mine turn purple.
I hope a hole opens up in the ground and swallows him whole.
âWe wonât be able to hide anything from Ezekiel anyway,â Alistair explains. âThis information wonât leave this circle.â
âIâm going to kill you.â
âOkay. But let me take you home first.â Alistair ushers me into the vehicle while Iâm still beaming laser eyes at him. He climbs in after me.
Ezekiel falls into the front seat. He and Bernard exchange looks before Bernard starts driving.
My phone buzzes a second later.
Ezekiel: I left you alone with him for five minutes.
I hurl angry eyes at the executive assistant. Is he blaming me for this too? Tonight would have been a tidy little one-night stand if not for Alistair. But now itâs complicated because my gorgeous boss is a jerk who takes what he wants without apology.
Kenya: Itâs not what it looks like.
Alistair closes his eyes and murmurs, âIf youâre going to text about me, you might as well talk out loud.â
Ezekiel clears his throat.
Bernard tightens his fingers on the steering wheel.
Awkward silence falls on the car.
Alistair speaks in a low tone. âI donât owe either of you an explanation as this is between myself and Miss Jones.â He scowls at Ezekiel. âBut since Iâd like to spare her the interrogation, the truth is that I want her and sheâs trying her best to resist me.â
My jaw drops.
âThat is the most youâll get.â He narrows his eyes at Ezekiel. âKindly refrain from commenting until Miss Jones is gone.â
I stare at Alistair, trying to understand how his brain works. The passing lights dance over his sharp jaw and rugged profile. He looks like a mythical prince come to life. I want to slap the handsome right off his face.
Unfortunately, there are too many of his people in the car. Ezekiel is going to side with him, even if he doesnât agree. And Bernard basically pledged his life in servitude because of what Alistair did for his wife.
If I swing on him, theyâre going to haul me back.
Controlling my temper takes effort. I manage to keep my mouth shut until the car slows in front of Sunnyâs apartment.
Unfortunately, a clean getaway is not in the cards. Alistair hops out of the car and joins me on the sidewalk. He easily catches up with me and shoots his arm out to bar my escape.
I crane my neck to look at him. Heâs not smiling. Not really. But his eyes still hold that glow of affection. I have no idea where itâs coming from or when it even got there.
âWeâre meeting with Baby Box tomorrow to finalize the products for the subscription box. I need you to be there bright and early.â
âItâs the weekend.â
âHave I ever given you the weekend off, Miss Jones?â
I narrow my eyes at him. âYouâre not human, are you?â
âHow about I take you somewhere private and you can find out?â he whispers, leaning close to my face.
I grit my teeth.
His lips curl up slightly. He goaded me and I fell for it, but heâs just so⦠insufferable.
âGoodnight, Kenya.â He drops his hands on my shoulders and pulls me in for a kiss on the forehead. âIâll pick you up tomorrow.â
âNo thanks.â
âI wasnât asking.â
âSeeing your face early in the morning sounds like torture.â
âAnd yet, you were willing to risk it all for a taste of me tonight. Were you planning on having your way with me and then disappearing before I woke up?â He shakes his head. âIâm disappointed. You should at least buy me breakfast.â
I roll my eyes. Hard.
Heâs still the same jerkface Alistair. Except⦠heâs⦠flirting with me.
âGoodnight,â Alistair calls.
I turn back and notice him smirking.
Oh, Iâm going to punch his face. At least once.
When I get inside, Sunny is at the door waiting for me. She grabs my shoulders and hauls me into the living room.
âI need an update and I need it now.â Her dark eyes glisten like ancient jewels. âI saw everything through the peephole. Why was your boss staring at you like that? And why did he kiss your forehead?â She gives me a once-over and then gasps. âWait, is that why you borrowed my dress tonight? Because you were going to see him?â
âNo.â I push out my lips.
âOh yes you did!â Sunny flings herself into the chair and laughs with her whole body. Smacking her hands together and stomping her foot, she howls. âYou went and fell for your evil boss!â
âI didnât,â I hiss.
âThen why did he drop you home like heâs your date to junior prom?â
âStop playing. Heâs dropped me home before.â
âThat still doesnât explain the dress,â Sunny sings.
Okay, maybe I was hoping Alistair would see me in this outfit. Those office clothes, while chic, donât really express my personal fashion style.
I wanted his attention.
I just didnât actually expect to get it.
âHow far did you two go?â Sunny peers at me.
âNot as far as I wanted.â I frown. âHe told me he couldnât stop thinking about me.â
âWhoa.â She jumps to her feet and starts pacing. âWhoa, whoa, whoa.â
âHe must be messing with me, right? This is all part of his twisted plan to get me back for destroying his fern.â
âNo, I think thereâs more to it. If you look back, the signs were there all along.â
âWhat signs?â I squeak.
âHe didnât fire you after Baby Box.â
âHey, I saved that Baby Box deal. It was going up in flames until I threw water on it.â
âYou threw his kid under the bus!â
âNot intentionally.â
âAnd after that, what did he do? He protected you from that Baby Box creep.â
âWalsh.â
âRight, Walsh.â She nods. âHe dropped you home after the promotion date mix-up, got you tea and even bought you a humidifier.â
âHe said he got that for free,â I argue.
She slants me a get real look.
I huff.
âItâs all connected.â Her eyes are wide and all thatâs missing is a tin hat made of foil.
I shake my head. âYouâre making a big deal out of nothing. All we did was kiss and then he started talking nonsenseââ
âYou kissed him?â
I cringe.
She flies over to me. âAnd it was good?â
My eyelashes flutter.
Heat floods my chest.
Alistair kissed me like a hurricane.
He kissed me senseless.
Then he told me it was more.
More?
What more?
âWoman, you do not have to tell me a thing.â Sunny shakes her head. âUgh, Iâm so jealous. Itâs been years since Iâve gone out on a date. I donât even need a millionaire. Just a regular guy with a nice smile and an easygoing personality.â
âItâs not like that.â
âWhatâs it like then? Youâre into him too, arenât you?â
âIâ¦â I lick my lips.
She studies me. âYou want to kiss him, but you wonât accept that you have feelings for him?â
âItâs not that. I do have feelings for him.â
âOkay, then whatâs theââ
âBut I was with Drake for three years.â I cringe hard. âWe moved in together. We talked about marriage all the time. I didnât imagine a future without him by my side. And look what happened.â
âYour selfish sister stole him away.â
I curl a pillow into my chest. âWhat I feel for Alistair is⦠passionate. You know? Itâs kind of hate and lust all mixed up. But that kind of fire burns hot and fast and then it putters out just as quickly.â
âYou donât know that,â she croons, rubbing my back.
âHeâs rich.â
âSo?â
âAnd he has a daughter to think of.â
Sunny pulls her lips in.
âIf he comes after my heart, heâll have it. That man gets everything he wants. Even if he has to tear down the world to make it happen.â Sunny keeps rubbing my back and nodding in understanding. âAfter this phase passes, it might be easy for him to walk away, but Iâve already been hurt once. I donât want to get crushed again.â
âOh, honey.â
âLast time, with Drake, I got blindsided. This time, if I walk willingly into the storm, Iâll deserve the pain.â
âThen tell him that. Find out if all he wants is a fling and end it quickly.â
I glance down.
âUnless you donât want to.â She frowns. âUnless you secretly want him to break your heart if thatâs what itâll come to.â
I stay quiet.
âWhat exactly do you want, Kenya?â
I have no idea.
All I know is that Alistair should be off limits but, with every single breath I take, I can still taste his kiss.