Page 54 of Stuck with Me

“Before you take offense to that, I’m trying to respect our agreement. One and done. No touching.”

Ah, right. Well played, cowboy.

“One and done,” I repeat.

Rounding the couch, he takes a seat on the end of it. “I promise I won’t touch you again, Kit-Kat.”

The way he says that, that he won’t touch me again, so bluntly, hits strangely in my chest. Am I sad about it? Disappointed? I think I might be.

“Good,” the word slides over the lump in my throat.

Hopefully he didn’t notice. But by the way he looks at me, dark eyes so full of heat, it makes me think he did.

“Good,” he mimics, his scratchy voice brushing against my skin even though he’s all the way on the other end of the couch.

What is this guy’s deal? How can he do that? Piss me off and then flip the switch and turn me on with one word?

The few feet between us suddenly feel like too much. He feels too far away. But we just agreed he won’t touch me again.

He tips back his glass, taking in a few gulps of whiskey. I can’t help but watch his Adam’s apple bob while he swallows. It’s hot. It’s sexy.

And dammit, this romance book got me all worked up. Yes, I blame the book. Because it can’t be him. Despite our time together and getting to know each other more, he’s still only in Maple Ridge for one thing. To take the cabin from me.

While my mind spirals, I take a sip of the dark liquor and it burns as it slides down my throat.

Nico did say that maybe we could come to an arrangement. He suggested we switch off holidays and share the cabin. It sounded fucking ridiculous a few days ago. But maybe it’s the only way I won’t lose it completely.

“So we’re in agreement?” he mumbles.

We lock eyes and the tension singes between us. “I won’t touch you again.”

I nod slowly, my heart thumping hard against my chest.

“And I suppose that means you can’t touch me again?” but he says it like it’s a question.

Does he want me to agree or argue?

“Right,” I whisper.

He nods and finally breaks our eye contact, and says softly, “right.”

“It makes no sense anyway,” the words rush out.

“What’s that?”

“Us touching each other. We hate each other.”

A smile like the Cheshire cat pulls at his lips, and it causes my stomach to dip.

“We do. With a passion.”

We drink our whiskey in silence. The constant lust suspends in the space between us. I slip my hand into my pocket where I have Gigi’s compass necklace. Rubbing my thumb against it soothes my jittering nerves.

The book lays open on my lap and my eyes scan the same line over and over,fuck my tongue like it’s my cock, baby. Okay, now that’s a decent line. Because it’s definitely doing something between my own legs. I’m sure it has absolutely nothing to do with the growly man with thick forearms sitting on the other end of the couch dressed in a flannel and a pair of sweats.

Suddenly, my focus zones in on the tented crotch of his sweatpants. My eyes flick up to his and he simply shrugs. As if to say,what did you expect?

“This is turning you on?” I bark out a laugh. And not because I’m making fun of him. But because it’s got me so hot right now.

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