Page 122 of Burn

He shakes his head. “I’mnotstupid, Mila, so don’t treat me like I am. He’s your father and this is his hotel. He has every right to be upset, but you should have stood up for yourself. That’s all I was trying to do, and if you can’t see that, we have no business messing around.”

It pisses me off. How dare he, but then again, how dare I be upset at him for trying to stick up for me. “So that’s it? You’re done with me because I didn’t defend you in front of my dad?” I ask through clenched teeth.

He laughs condescendingly, his hands buried in the pockets of his jeans. “It’s not because you didn’t defend me. I’m not a child. I don’t need you sticking up for me,” he says, raising his voice. “I just don’t want the fucking drama.”

His words are a slap to my face. I bite my lip, holding my breath and fighting back the tears I don’t want falling. He’s doing this because I hurt him.

Caleb closes his eyes and rubs his hands over his face, groaning in frustration and then clasps his hands behind his neck once more.

I inhale a deep breath, but I don’t respond with words.

Dropping his hands, his eyes move to my mouth, and my chest hurts at the thought of never feeling his lips against mine again. He’s so close I can feel his breath on my skin, so close I can imagine the taste of his lips pressing to mine.

I wipe traitorous tears away with the sleeve of my shirt and refuse to look his direction. Only he’s staring at me now, like he’s trying to figure out how to respond. Lifting his hand, he runs it through his hair as he lets out a heavy sigh and focuses his attention on the street.

My heart is about to tear its way through my chest and flop down at his feet, gasping for some sort of indication he feels the same way.

Only I know it’s now coming. He’s never going to see me again, and he’s trying to tell me.

I blow out a breath, trying to control my rapidly beating heart, but it’s no use. I’m free-falling into hell.

I clear my throat. “Say something.”

He slants his head so we’re looking at each other. “Something.”

“Be serious.”

His expressions unreadable. “What’s there to say?” He breaths in, low and deep. “I don’t think you want me to say anything.”

His statement tugs at so many things inside of me. Want. Need. Denial.

I’m not sure what to say, but I squeeze my eyes shut when he presses a kiss to my lips. Words escape me, my heart twisting inside my chest at the onslaught of emotions I’m doing a piss poor job at holding back.

And then he lets go of me, maybe forever.

BACK INSIDE THE hotel, Nixon’s standing there, smug satisfaction on his face. “It’s for the better, Mila.”

I shove his shoulder and push him back against the concierge desk. “Fuck off, Nixon. You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, and I’m going to prove to my father you’re behind this shit.”

He snorts, righting his posture and straightening out his suit, the darkness in his voice moving through me when he says, “He won’t believe you. I can be very convincing when I need to be.”

Remember when I said don’t trust bankers?

It’s the fucking truth.

I’m ready to tell my father the truth when I see him outside his office but I’m nearing an emotional shit show, one where I toss myself on the floor and scream and kick. For that reason, I attempt to avoid him and side-side him blocking my entrance to the elevators.

“I never want that man in my hotel again,” he demands, dipping his head to catch my watery stare. “Do you understand me, Milena?”

I clench my jaw as I make eye contact with a man I suddenly feel I will never be good enough for judges me for the first time. “Whatever happened to don’t judge a man until you’ve walked in his shoes?”

His jaw tightens, unbelieving that I would question anything he has to say, but he also knows he’s wrong. I can see it written in the sympathy touching his pale eyes. “That has nothing do to with this situation.”

“Yes it does. You don’t even know Caleb, yet you think he’s not good enough for me. Let me guess, you think someone like Nixon Shaw is, don’t you?”

My father’s brow furrows slightly, the only indication he’s listening to exactly what I’m saying. “I just want what’s best for you.”

I clear my throat, compose myself and then say, “If that were the case you wouldn’t have treated Caleb like that, or talked to me the way you just did.”

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