Page 106 of Counting On You

I can barely hide my amusement. “You hardly forced me, sweetheart. It sure didn’t feel like you were assaulting me, more like—”

She rolls her eyes, and for a moment there’s a glint of amusement in her gaze. “God, Kade. Stop it with the jokes. This is serious. I’m trying to have a meaningful conversation with you and you’re not taking it seriously.” Her eyes sweep around us once more. Even though there’s no one around, she’s paranoid that someone might be watching. I want to point out to her that after five the halls are always empty because most patients are attending music therapy, but my reassurances will most certainly not be heard.

Vicky’s voice drops to a whisper. “You’re a sex addict. It was wrong of me to ask you. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“I can’t say I regret it. To be honest, I felt good afterwards. Better than I have felt in a long time. And from the looks of it, you enjoyed our little session, too.” I wink at her playfully. She frowns. A soft blush spreads across her cheeks, which makes her look even more endearing.

“For the sake of all that’s sacred, can you please keep your voice down?” Her voice is so low I have to lean forward to make out what she’s saying. “It doesn’t matter whether we liked it. We can’t let it happen again.”

Meaning, she’s enjoyed every minute of it and is now trying hard to come up with reasons why she shouldn’t be joining me between the sheets again.

Tilting my head, I cross my arms over my chest as I regard her with amusement. “Why not?”

“Just because.” She glances away, avoiding my prodding gaze. But her voice is strained, betraying her emotions. She’s torn about us. “I want you to get over your addiction, not for me to make it worse or for you to relapse. I don’t want to be the reason for you failing rehab. So, I’m going to take responsibility for what happened between us. I’m going to ask to be roomed with someone else.”

My jaw sets and anger pulses through me.

As if avoiding me wasn’t bad enough; now she wants to put even more physical distance between us.

I haphazardly arrange her books on a tray and grab her hand. She doesn’t protest as I lead her back inside the library, to the farthest part where I’m sure no one will see us.

“Kade, I—”

Pressing my body into her, I push her back against the bookcase. My face is lowered to hers, our breath intermingling. She smells so good I want to suck her lower lip between mine until she moans my name.

I want to touch her, but it wouldn’t be right. Not before we’ve talked. Settled things. Got her worries and paranoia out of the way once and for all.

“You want to be roomed with someone else?” My voice comes out sharp, threatening.

“Why are you offended?”

“I’m not offended. I just don’t think it’s necessary. That’s all.” Her proximity is all I can focus on. I didn’t anticipate that being so close to her would be so hard…or so heady.

“I can’t keep living with you, Kade.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want you to hate me.” Her eyes are half-closed, her breathing slightly labored. She’s finding this as hard as I do.

“I could never hate you. No one could.”

“You will. Trust me.” She lets out an exasperated breath. “I know me. I’m a walking disaster, and I’ll bring you down with me. I’m sorry, but we can’t do this anymore. I can’t continue things with you. Not with my issues. Not when your own issues are as grave as they are.”

“They’re not as bad as you make them out to be. I think we’re actually making progress.”

“Progress?” She lets out a scoff and squints at me incredulously. “Tell me one good thing that’s come out of this.”

“Well, for starters, you haven’t mentioned Bruce in a while. You used to mention him in every sentence.”

“Really?”

She holds out her hand as if she doesn’t want to hear more. Exhaling a sharp breath, she glares at me, but what I see in her eyes isn’t anger. It’s fear.

Her tongue flicks across her lips and her eyes shimmer with what I’m pretty sure are tears.

I frown.

Fuck.

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