Page 48 of Beautiful Distraction

There’s a difference between longing and living out afantasy. There’s also a difference between desiring intimacy with someone who’syour dream guy and wanting something that you know is bad for you. Dream guy ornot, I know it can and won’t end well with Kellan.

I stand rooted to the spot for a good five minutes before Idecide that whoever Kellan is, he’s definitely not someone you want to let tooclose to you or your heart.

For one, he’s too good-looking. Beautiful people always getaway with anything.

And second, while I’ve met my fair share of bad boys, and,as such, am rather familiar with their game, Kellan takes it to a whole newlevel.

He’s too arrogant for his own sake.

He behaves like every woman is fair game and the world ishis playground. If he thinks he only has to ask and I’ll jump on his bandwagon,he’s mistaken. The fact that he wants me and makes no secret out of us never beingmore than just a fling makes him a whole different kind of dangerous.

It’s all too tempting.

I don’t know how to deal with someone like him.

Keeping away from him is no longer just an option. It’s becomea priority because there’s no way I’ll ever turn into one of the women he’sused and left behind.

“I’m heading back inside,” I call out and begin my ascentbefore he can stop me.

“What about work?” he shouts.

“You can do it yourself. I have no intention of staying.”

“Fine. Suit yourself. Let’s see how far you get without me.”

Wow.

The guy really assumes I’ll need him just because I’m awoman.

Talk about being sexist.

“Condescending jerk,” I say and head in the direction fromwhere we came.

“I heard you,” Kellan yells after me.

“I hope so.” I turn back to him, my gaze boiling. “Becausethat’s my honest opinion of you.” I continue walking with Sniper glued to myankle, glancing over my shoulder a few times to see whether Kellan’s comingafter me. He makes no attempt to follow.

That’s fine by me.

Sniper is a much better companion anyway.

The house is a long way up the hill. From where I’mstanding, I can’t even see it, but I’m confident it’ll barely take me tenminutes to reach it, fifteen minutes tops. I huff and groan as I trudge throughthe mud, and realize climbing up a hill is way worse than climbing down. I’vebarely managed to walk a few yards when a gust of wind whips against my face. Ilose my equilibrium for a moment and tumble backward.

I fall on my backside, and a scream escapes my throat.

The pain shooting through my ankle is excruciating. Myvision blurs. I bite my lip hard to stifle the yelp lodged deep in my throat.Sniper barks once, then twice, and then he runs off, probably frightened by myscream.

“Fuck. Fuck,” I mutter as I try to scramble to my feet butfind that I can’t.

My hands go to my throbbing ankle. It burns when I touch it.

“Are you okay?”

Kellan’s voice reaches me a moment before he does. I nod andlook up at him through the curtain of unwanted tears clouding my vision. Sniperbarks again. He’s standing next to Kellan, eyeing us both.

“Good boy,” Kellan says to the dog. “He came to get me.”

“I’m fine,” I squeeze through gritted teeth, even though I’manything but. The throbbing pain in my ankle shoots up to my knee in longpangs. In spite of the wind, my back is slick with sweat. I broke my arm when Iwas five and had my tonsils removed at nine, so I know what physical pain feelslike. However, this hurts so much, I might just pass out.

---