Page 113 of Phishing for Love
A pulse jumps in his throat. “Is he trying to get back together with you?”
“Yes.”
He falls silent, as if he’s preparing himself for his next question. “Do you want to get back together with him?”
“No.”
His gaze roams my face, testing my answer, his eyes touching me in a way that makes my skin burn.
“A definite no,” I add quietly.
Without a word, he pushes back his chair and strides around the table to me. Still not saying anything, he reaches for my hand and pulls me to my feet so I’m standing only inches away from him. His thumb traces slow, explosive circles against the sensitive skin of my palm. Heat builds up in my belly, hot and achy.
I hold my breath and close my eyes as his fingers trace the dip of my collarbone. It’s the lightest of touches, but my body trembles all over. It feels both too much and not enough.
My lips part and my head tilts back as his fingers skim the base of my throat and glide up my neck to cradle my jaw. I hear his breathing quicken.
I open my eyes to see that his are so dark with longing they’re almost black. He wants me as intensely as I want him.
He leans in until his mouth is nearly an inch away from mine. But he doesn’t kiss me.
Instead, he rests his forehead against mine and I feel a shudder go through him.
“I can’t,” he whispers. “I won’t be your rebound guy.”
His words are like a bucket of ice water over me. “What?”
“I won’t be the guy you use to get over your ex.”
“You’re not,” I whisper fiercely.
With a hard swallow, he shakes his head, his expression unhappy but resolute. “You were with him for a year. Even if you don’t realize it, you’re still emotionally recovering from him.”
I want so many things from him in this moment, but the last thing I want is his pity.
Snatching my hand out of his grasp, I stumble backward, putting space between us. “You arenota rebound guy!” I bite out. “But you certainly are gutless!”
Aaron watches me silently, hands thrust into his pockets, as I collect my stuff. Our dirty plates catch my eye, sorry remnants of a meal that ended on such a disastrous note. I hesitate. The innate sense of manners my mom and grandma drilled into me rears up, prompting me to help clean up. But I angrily bat the urge away. After what he did, he can clear the whole mess up himself.
I march furiously toward his front door, yanking it open.
Aaron follows me outside and I deliver my parting shot as I reach my car. “Do not use me as an excuse because you’re too scared to step up to the plate.”
I’m too mad and too hurt to think about how weary, how impossibly sad he looks standing on his front porch watching me drive away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
[GROUP CHAT]
Sofia:Okay, what’s going on between you and Aaron? Because it’s like we’ve had a transfer to the bomb squad. All this tension. Tiptoeing around. Waiting for the explosion.
Kenzie:You were getting along so well with him. Now you’re barely speaking.
Sofia:Everything was fine up until the weekend. The two of you were setting the conference room on fire. He saved your cat. And now this?
Kenzie:Did something happen on the weekend?
Sofia:We’ve given you time. But it’s Thursday. We’ve had to endure three days of suspense. WHAT HAPPENED?
