Page 97 of Sweet Hate
There’s a chance you’ll stay? Here? In Sweet Haven?
Me
Maybe.
Axel
Well Damn.
Me
Does that change things?
I’ll understand if you don’t want to start anything, I know you don’t want a relationship and neither do I.
Trying to run the bakery without Grams is a tough sell as it is. That’ll take all of my time and energy.
That’s why I said six weeks. So it doesn’t get complicated if I do stay.
Axel? Say something!?
Bollocks. It looks like that’s gone down like a lead balloon.
31
AXEL
My pulse thunders in my ears, while my eyes stay fixed to the words on my phone screen.
Am I dreaming? This can’t be real. My hand has a slight tremor as I move it to pinch my thigh. If I’m kidding myself, I’d rather know now.
Nope, it’s definitely real.This is not a drill. Feeling restless, I jump up and pace, still holding my phone.
This is a pretty pertinent piece of information she could have mentioned earlier.
When? You were acting like a total ass. Why would she have told you shit?
Nerves creep in now the initial shock of her message has worn off. My proposal has gone from an easy, temporary, mutually beneficial arrangement to a minefield full of bombs ready to detonate at the slightest wrong move.
Shit. Would I have suggested this knowing she was staying?
My mind flashes through a slideshow of our recent interactions. Her straddling me at the bar, me kissing her in the bakery, her wrapping her arms around my neck when I carried her to and fromthe truck…
Clawing need hits me like a jackhammer. To be around her, to hold her, to just be with her.
Flopping back on my bed I just stare at the ceiling, the drumming in my ears wilder than Tommy Lee at a Motley Crue show. I suck in a deep breath to try and calm my rioting pulse before I have a heart attack. If that happens before I sink my cock into her again, I’d be wrecked.
And that’s all the answer I need.
Faced with my sudden death, I’d regret not taking that chance with her again.
Sure as shit, I’d figure out a way to make like Patrick Swayze and Ghost her ass, pottery wheel optional.
I want to slam my hand down on the big red button that saysdo not touchand burn all sense to the ground.
Because it’sher. The woman who makes me feel like myself again, like the version of me I’d long since forgotten. She doesn’t see a trophy, she doesn’t see the lieutenant—she just sees me.
Please hold for the tiny violin I’m about to play.
