Page 119 of Beyond the Stroke

At his words, I release my lower lip from between my teeth.

“How you sigh when you’re falling asleep. And I sure as hell can’t sleep next to you without wanting to touch you. And god, Summer, I want you. In every way. I don’t know how to turn it off.

“Before we got married, you made it clear you didn’t want anything to happen between us, and if that’s still what you want, I’ll have to live with it. But fuck, that’s not what I want.” His gaze drags over my face, slow and deliberate. “I want you, Summer. Nothing has ever felt simpler. And last night wasn’t a mistake. It was the furthest thing from it.”

My pulse pounds at Rory’s words.

He wants me.

He says it like it’s a fact. Like it’s inevitable.

I scowl in disbelief. This isn’t how this was supposed to go.

“You can’t just say stuff like that.”

“Why not? Because you don’t want to hear it? Or because you do?”

His prodding has my defenses sounding the alarm.

“This was never part of the deal, Rory.”

“Things change.”

“Not this. Not us.” I force myself to hold his gaze, even as my chest begins to tighten and my breathing becomes shaky. “You don’t actually want me. You’re just caught up in whatever this is.” I motion between us. I’m realizing it’s easy to start to feel things for someone you’re living with and married to, and who looks at you like they want to know every part of your soul. But it’s not real, right?

Rory exhales through his nose, his gaze darkens. Then, he reaches out to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. Slow. Gentle. His fingers graze my skin, and my breath catches at the contact.

“You really don’t think I want you?” he murmurs.

I can’t answer, my throat is starting to close.

My breaths are becoming more ragged.

Suddenly, the only sound between us is my wheezing.

Rory steps back and rushes toward the front door where my purse is sitting on the console table. A moment later, he returnswith my rescue inhaler. He hands it to me and watches as I slowly inhale the medication.

We stand there for what feels like forever. Rory monitoring my breathing while I focus on keeping my guard up.

With my asthma triggered, I expect him to back off the conversation. It’s what my ex would have done. No, that’s not true. Tripp wouldn’t have even bothered to start the conversation in the first place.

Once my breathing has evened out, Rory moves in closer again.

“You’re running.”

I inhale deeply, then give him my best glare. “I am not.”

“Yeah?” He shifts closer to me, to where he was before he’d given me space to take my inhaler. “Then look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want me, too.”

This conversation has taken a turn I can’t handle.

“I want—” My stomach lets out a vicious growl. “Bacon.”

Rory grabs a piece from the pan and hands it to me. It’s cooked perfectly, deep golden brown with crisped edges and a slight glossy sheen from the rendered fat.

“Summer.” His voice is softer now. “Why are you fighting this so hard?”

Because I know what it feels like to be wanted for the wrong reasons.

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