Page 24 of Fall Apart

Walking off the elevator, I’m not the least bit surprised that Clay is waiting there, fluffy pink slippers over his work boots and a knowing grin plastered on his face. The jokes on him though.

“Cowboys and werewolves,” I say, calmly, smirking back at him.

He looks puzzled and eyes me cautiously. I’m already so pleased that I’ve thrown him off for once.

“What are you talking about?”

“Your bet. You and the girls are both wrong.” I hold out the note. “I like westerns and werewolf books. Don’t get me wrong, I like other stuff too, but those are my favorite.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

I raise my finger to him. “No. I would appreciate it if there wasn’t a next time.”

He coos at me. “That’s no fun.”

I glower back at him. “Clay, I’m serious. I feel like we’re starting to get to a better place and I would like that to continue if we’re going to be doing wedding stuff together. The last thing I need is you probing around in my sex life trying to figure out what I’m in to.”

He takes two long, predatory strides towards me, closing the distance between us.

“It’s alright, princess.” His voice drops low and he lingers on that nickname. “We’re adults. No kink shaming here.” His lips quirk up into a smirk.

I try to ignore that comment and not let my mind race through what kinks he might have. “First, stop calling meprincess. It was fun at the bar, but we’re trying to be friendly and I’m pretty sure friends don’t call each other that.”

“Who said we’re friends yet?” He eyes me and I feel my cheeks heat under his stare. It’s unnerving how he always makes me feel this way just by looking at me. “Friends don’t assume friends are cheating pricks. Remember?”

I stare right back at him, not giving an inch and his eyes soften. “I don’t have to justify myself to you. You tried to take me home, then you show up later with a date or whatever.”

His chest fills as he takes a deep breath, but he doesn’t say a word. He just glares back at me and crosses his arms.

“But…” I sigh and wobble my head.

He turns and holds his cupped ear. “But what?” he says, dragging out the words.

“But you’re right. I’m sorry. My last relationship was a mess. My ex was a cheating asshole. I didn’t need to take that out on you.”

He doesn’t even hesitate to respond. “He sounds like an idiot. It was his loss.” He doesn’t flinch and his gaze holds mine.

I look away, not wanting to maintain this intense eye contact or talk about that more than I have to. “It’s fine. I don’t exactly go around broadcasting that.”

He studies me and looks at me softly. Not with pity, not sadness, but understanding. His lips pull to one side and he nods. “Yeah, I get it. No one likes to talk about being hurt.” He lets out a long breath and rubs his stubble. “We can be friends, Lizzy. We are friends.”

He extends a hand out to me and I take it. The feeling of his warm, rough hands instantly brings back all the sensations from that night at Roxy’s. I watch his eyes drift down to our hands before he pulls it back, almost like it pains him.

Does he feel it too? Or does he just dislike me that much even though he says we’re friends now?

Saturday morning comesand I find myself pleased that I got to sleep in. I stayed in last night and started my new book from Clay. It’s definitely living up to the hype.

Girl, I get it.

Why choose?

I got to bed at a responsible time. But when I check my phone and 8:05 comes and goes and my coffee and pastry aren’t there, I feel the slightest bit of disappointment.

I know Clay isn’t working today.

I know I shouldn’t expect it.

But I was starting to enjoy our morning sparring matches. Even Luke is sort of adorable with how excited he gets about his sugar-coma-inducing drinks.

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