Page 7 of One Last Kiss
He looked up, his thick blond brows drawing together. “What?”
“You’re clearing your throat. Can you quit?”
He sighed. “Sorry. I forgot there was even anyone else in the room, seeing that you’re not talking.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
He cleared his throat again.
She wanted to hurl herself across the space between them.
“So you really hate me that much, huh?”
Her gaze went to his, and her breath caught for a moment. She wanted to hate him. Really wanted to. But, no, she didn’t.
She looked away, refusing to admit that. It was easier if they hated one another. An amiable divorce was overrated. Then they’d have to make niceties when they saw each other.
Ignoring each other or crossing a store to avoid contact was better.
“Well, I don’t hate you, Abs. I love you. Still. Even if you can’t stand to be in the same room with me anymore.”
