Page 107 of Counting On You

Did I say something wrong?

“What’s going on, Vicky?” I ask softly.

“I thought I could do this, but I can’t.” She shakes her head. Waves of tension waft from her. “I feel like I’m trapped in a corridor, walking from door to door, with no hope of ever getting out. I seem to make one mistake after another. I thought by hooking up with you my problems would be solved, but I’ve realized everything’s getting worse. It’s only a matter of time until I fall. And when I do, I don’t want to bring you down with me. Don’t take it personally, Kade, but everything I’m doing I’m doing for us.”

“Why do you think you know what’s good for us? Maybe I don’t want to stop now.”

She hesitates and her expression darkens. “We have to. There’s no other choice.”

“That’s not what you want, Vicky. Take a good look at yourself. Your body’s speaking volumes.”

She laughs. “Seriously?”

“You don’t want to stop.” I brush her neck gently, trailing my fingers down her shoulder. She tenses under my touch, but she doesn’t pull away.

“Fine. What do you want to hear? That I want you?” Her tone is flat. She really feels lost. She doesn’t know what to do with the attraction between us.

“I want you to say that you want to fuck me again.”

“I can’t say that.”

“Why not? And don’t claim that’s not what you want.”

There’s a short silence. “I’m not going to lie,” she says slowly. “But that’s the thing. I always seem to want things that destroy me. That are bad for me. It’s my illness, and I’m not going to let my addiction destroy our lives. We have to be realistic. Face the facts. This little hook up of ours is going nowhere.”

I inch toward her, my hand going to the back of her neck, caressing it, forcing her to meet my gaze. I lean into her until our lips almost touch, but not quite. Her breath is hot, sweet, and inviting. I want it to mingle with mine. I want our breaths to be one. “To get over one addiction you have to become addicted to something else.”

“To what, for example?”

“To me,” I breathe against her mouth. “Become addicted to me.”

Her expression darkens and her lips part, quivering, inviting my tongue into her mouth. “That’s the thing. I already am addicted to you, Kade.”

My heart skips a beat, then another. When I say nothing, she continues, “I’m addicted to the way I feel when you touch me. I’m addicted to the way you came inside me. You’re in my thoughts, in my dreams. Fuck. You’re everywhere, Kade. It’s like I can’t escape you because you’re my drug. I’ve tried to stop it, but I can’t. That’s why we can’t keep meeting. You’re leaving me no choice but to tell them the truth.”

I stare at her, expecting repulsion to hit me low the way it always does when women proclaim their feelings for me.

But all I feel is a wave of shock—shock at the fact that I actually want her to feel all those things for me.

I cannot stop this—not now, not yet.

Not seeing her for days was unbearable, but at least there was always the certainty that I could change her mind again. Exposing us is another thing. It could mean the end of us.

I shake my head. “You won’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not ready to let you go.”

She frowns. “Didn’t you understand what I just said? I’m damaged.”

“So what? We’re all damaged. We’ve all done things we’re not proud of. We’re all trying to learn from mistakes we seem to repeat over and over again. Life is the process of learning things we cannot understand and the acceptance of things we cannot change. That’s life. Accept it and move on.”

Fuck. When did I start sounding like my therapist?

Her eyes widen, shimmering with sudden understanding. She’s listening to me,reallylistening, clinging to my words as if they’re a lifeboat that could save her.

I suddenly realize I want to be the one who saves this beautiful woman who is capable of saving others but not herself.

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