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“I’m a big girl. I can protect myself.”

“Can you?” He levels me with a hard look. “Because you seem to keep falling for the wrong men.”

Stung, I open my mouth, but no words come out.

He’s not wrong.

I fall too easily and see only the good in people instead of the truth.

“You’re right, and you’re just one of them,” I say.

“Fuck, no. I didn’t mean that as an attack. I just want you to see yourself clearly. To know you deserve so much more.”

“And you think you can give me that?”

“I want to, yes.” Connor takes my hand. His rough, calloused fingers wrap around mine, and warmth blossoms in my chest.

I glare at him, acutely aware of his proximity and hating how much it affects me. “You tricked me. That entire thing was under false pretenses.”

“Was it?” His gaze drops to my mouth. “You seemed to be enjoying yourself at the time.”

“I thought you were someone else!”

“And yet you still ended up in my arms.” His lips curve into a smirk. “Funny how that worked out,isn’t it?”

“I hate you.”

He catches my wrists, holding them still against his chest. “Please don’t leave me. I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.” Tears slip down my cheeks. “Stay the hell away from me, Connor.” I wrench the door handle and flee.

Away from Chris.

Away from Connor.

Chapter 40

Connor

Saturday. Our confrontation feels like a lifetime ago. The silence since then is deafening. She doesn’t answer my texts or calls, doesn’t acknowledge me in the office, and keeps her distance. I send her flowers, chocolate, and food in the evenings when she’s working late and replace her energy drinks with water. She doesn’t complain.

Nothing.

Normally, she would tell me off, asking me to stop, although she loves it, but now…

I don’t know how to fix this, and I don’t know if I can. But I know I have to try. I have to fight for her, for us, even if it means facing the consequences of my actions and the possibility that…

Everything was perfect.

Will she ever be able to forgive me? Can she understand why I did what I did?

I couldn’t resist the chance to be close to her, to finally have her in my arms. The masquerade provided the perfect opportunity—I could be with her without the risk of rejection. Without the fear that she would abandon me if she knew who I really was.

The pull of her light, her warmth… it was too much. I had to have her, even if just for a fleeting moment. And when she gave herself to me so completely, so vulnerably, I knew I was lost.

Fuck. I should have stayed.

But I couldn’t.

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