Page 157 of Counting On You

My breath hitches in my throat as I meet Kade’s intense gaze. His expression is nonchalant, but there’s a glint of anger in his eyes.

I want to tell him to leave. That whatever I’m doing is none of his business. Instead, I find myself closing my eyes as his presence slowly overpowers me.

He’s here, together with all those memories—I’ve been trying to bury together with our past.

I’ve completely forgotten how good he smells. How his presence makes me feel like I’m the only woman in his world. How my body gets hot and bothered, burning for his touch.

“I haven’t been avoiding you.” My voice is weak.

Liar. Liar.

“You’re lying,” Kade says matter-of-factly.

Turning my back to him, I head over to the window, which is a little too close to my bed. Heat rises to my face at the thought. I haven’t been with anyone since Kade. I couldn’t even look at another man. He’s ruined that part for me.

I’m glad he can’t see my face and read just how much I want him.

“Kade.” I open my mouth, then close it again.

What else can I say?

This is the kind of situation I’ve been trying to avoid. I knew all along that my feelings would render me defenseless to the extent that I wouldn’t be able to think straight, let alone deny what he’s doing to me.

I want him too much, so damn much, but I can’t have him.

“I haven’t been avoiding you. Not just you,” I say slowly. “I’ve been avoiding everything about you.”

“Why would you do that, Vicky?”

The sound of his approaching footsteps is muffled by the rug beneath our feet. I want to get out of here, but to do that I’d have to turn around and face him.

But that’s out of the question.

I press my lips into a grim line as it all comes back a hundred-fold. My ridiculous attraction to him. The fear that this might be our last few moments together. The powerlessness and despair at the fact that he might not want our child.

“Why are you here, Kade?” I ask, ignoring his question.

“You know why.” His hand touches my shoulder. “I needed to see you.”

I don’t protest as he spins me around slowly, giving me no option but to face him.

His eyes.

I had completely forgotten how beautiful they are. How his irises change to a darker color when he’s angry or how warm they look when he’s worried.

Right now, it’s a mixture of the two.

I remember all the times I touched his face, kissed it, fell more and more in love with it while he was asleep.

They say distance makes the heart grow fonder.

That’s not true at all.

My heart fell for him while we were together.

It leaped when his eyes fluttered.

It jumped out of my chest when he looked at me.

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