Page 25 of Resilient Love

Her fingers fiddle with the hem of her too-short shorts, and she bites her bottom lip, her cheeks flaming as she sits.

I clear my throat, getting ready to speak, but she leans across the desk, planting her forearms on it, and subsequently pushing her breasts together. My eyes linger between the cleavage of her full breasts before I can drag them away, and up to her crystal-clear blue eyes, heat clawing up my throat.

“I amsosorry,” she says, unaware of where my eyes were only a second ago. “I was dumb, and selfish, and?—”

I hold up a hand, cutting her off. “Stop it. I was a judgemental ass. I should never have confronted you like that. I didn’t exactly make it easy to want to confide in me,” I admit. My palms are sweating, and I resist the urge to claw at my throat, a sudden rush of heat overtaking me.

She casts her eyes downward for a beat before bringing them back up to mine. The emotions swirling in their depths have another breath caught in my throat. “Thank you for finding me,” she says, swallowing, “andstaying.” Her voice is thick with emotion.

I’m not a fan of this little heart-to-heart because it means I have to actually feel things, and I’m not prepared to relive the absolute terror I felt while looking for her. So instead, I smirk and deflect. “You won’t be thanking me when you find out how much money I made you leave behind on that slot machine.”

Her eyes widen, and if she realises that I’m avoiding having a deeper conversation, she doesn’t let on. She tilts her head and chews on her lip. “How much?”

“Over seven thousand pounds.”

She falls back against her chair, shaking her head as she looks up at the ceiling. “Damn, I hope whoever won the fight for my empty seat had tons of fun with that money. God knows I could use it,” she says with a low chuckle, but the comment strikes me as odd. I don’t knowexactlyhow much money her father makes, but it’s definitely enough that she shouldn’t be strapped for cash.

I ignore the comment,for now, allowing her to settle in further before my curiosity breaks through the overwhelmingneedto avoid getting any further into this conversation with her. “In a party town like that?” I ask. “I could think of several fun ways to spend that money,” I finish without thinking, but clearly, she catches on. Her eyes dance with mischief as she twists in her seat, crossing a bent leg over her knee. The hem of her shorts rides up, and the curve of her ass cheek peeks out, nothing concealing her smooth skin beneath the spandex.

I suppress a groan, and she says, “Could you, Rafael? Tell me”—she quirks a thin, dark brow—“how wouldyouhave spent that money?”

Considering the road surrounding the casino was lined with strip clubs, I’m sure she already thinks that’s what I was getting at, and unfortunately, she’s right. Though every other person on the planet has lost their appeal now that I’ve met Elise. A strip club would do nothing for me.

“I’ll allow you to come to whatever conclusions you want to,peligrosa.”Trouble.

Thatis what Elise Auclair is. Nothing but trouble, and I can’t seem to stop coming back for more.

She lifts a brow in question, but she doesn’t ask, and I don’t offer the information. “Something tells me we would’ve spent it in exactly the same way.”

I say nothing, holding my breath as I will my dick to settle in my shorts. She smirks again, and now would be a great time for my tongue to unglue itself from the roof of my mouth.

I relax back into my seat, blowing out the breath.

Such a tyrant.

“You mentioned needing the money for something,” I finally manage to say, and before a question can pass my lips, Elise’s entire demeanour has changed.

Gone is the relaxed woman seated in my office as if she owns the damn building, and in her place is the crumpled, wild-eyed shell of her, digging her nails into her thighs.

She slackens her jaw before I can change my mind and tell her to ignore what I’d said. “Yeah,” she says with a tremor in that one word that has me almost desperate to turn back time and stop while we were ahead.BeforeI’d made us both so visibly uncomfortable that my muscles shake with tension. “Uh,” she stammers, clearing her throat, “I’m not sure how it is for everyone with bipolar disorder, but from what I know, big purchases are sort of common, especially during a manic or hypomanic episode. I’ve got some debt to pay off,” she explains, clearly skirting around the details, but I’ve learned my lesson. I won’t push.

I’m not sure what to say yet, but I can’t formulate a response because she’s already talking again. “I don’t talk about this often with anyone, not even my friends who know about my diagnosis. And yes, I am aware that I shouldn’t be ashamed about it because it’s out of my control.” She squirms in her seat, shifting from side to side as if unable to find a comfortable position. “But no matter how much Chelsea preaches to me about it,” she mutters with a groan, “I’m unable to move past just how fuckinghumiliatedI am. It’s less about my mental illness and more about my actions. Likeyou,” she says with a pointed look in my direction. “I don’t even know what I said to you that night, but I’m pretty certain my language must have beencolourful.”

My body chooses this moment to disregard each of my pleas, my dick going rigid in my shorts, a wholly inappropriate response to the conversation we’re having. But with her words are the reminder of what she’d been saying in the back of that cab that night. The way her body had pressed to mine, how she’d flung herself over me, straddling my lap, whispering obscenely scandalous and deliriously sexy words into my ear as I refused her, focused on being a responsible person,for once in my fucking life,and getting her the help she needed. By the time we got to the hospital, I was sporting a painful erection that told me everything I needed to know about how explosive we’d be together. And that’s exactly why nothing can ever happen between us.

In an effort to save both myself and her from the discomfort whispering through the room,I lie.It’s a bald-faced lie and one I’m not sure I’ll ever bring myself to regret.

“I don't know what you think you might’ve said, Elise, but I assure you that you said nothing like what you’re suggesting. It was a quick drive to the hospital, and that was the end of it.”

She assesses me slowly, her gaze moving from each corner of my face, and when she’s satisfied, she slumps back into her chair again. “Thank you.” She begins nibbling her lip, and I want to pluck it from her teeth, so much that my fingers twitch on my armrests. “I seriously can’t say that enough, considering…” She doesn’t have to finish the sentence.Considering we both know she might have ended up much worse off had I not found her in time.That thought combines with an unshakeable feeling that I’m getting too close to her despite everything that’s conspired between us these last few weeks, and it has me scooting out ofmy chair, ready to fling myself across the room and out of the door to catch a goddamn breath.

“Yeah, no problem,” I tell her dismissively. “We better go. Practice starts in five.” And with that, I leave her to gather herself before making it out onto the pitch for her first day back since the incident.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

MONDAY, APRIL 14

I’mglad that Rafael and I cleared the air because practice went a lot more smoothly than it has in previous weeks.

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