Page 115 of Seven Year Itch
I feel Calder’s head shaking against me. “Not here.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
“Why?” I cry out again.
“Because I said so!” he barks, pulling away from me, anger replacing the desire on his face. “Dammit, Dakota. I don’t want you here.”
Humiliation shudders down all around me as I drop my legs from his body and press my hand to the wall, struggling to catch my balance. He moves toward me, and I hold my hand up, stopping him in his tracks.
“Fuck, what now?” he snaps, his tone visceral. “What did I do now?”
My throat aches with an emotional reaction that I am trying really hard to hide. “I’m just really getting tired of you rejecting me. Twice in two days is pretty telling.”
“Telling of what?” he asks, his voice gruff.
“That you’re ready to be done with me. With this. With our little arrangement.” My eyes find his as I hold my chin up high, refusing to crumble in front of him.
“Is that what you think?” he huffs out, his face taut with stress. “Jesus, Dakota, for a smart girl, you can really be fucking clueless, you know that?”
“What the hell does that mean?” I cry, my head spinning with lust and anger and pain all at once. So much it hurts. “What is clueless about you saying you don’t want me? What could I possibly not understand?”
“I don’t want you here,” he roars, thrusting a hand through his hair. “Not here. Not like this. I want you in my bed, in your bed, in a place where I can tell you...”
“Tell me what?” My heart feels like it’s going to explode out of my chest. “Tell me that we’re done? That you’ve had your fun and now it’s peace out?”
My body trembles with the reality I just laid out on the table. I’ve been holding so much back from Calder. From myself. I want him to want to keep me. There are so many feelings confusing me, and I think... I think I want more with him. A future. But I don’t know what he feels. I can see now that I’ve been holding back because I can’t fully tell if he’s really in this with me or if I’m just another one of his conquests. A pet project that will be just another notch on his belt because Calder Fletcher doesn’t take anything seriously. Not his work, not his art, not his relationships. Why would I be any different?
He presses his lips together and shakes his head, and it’s like we’re playing a game of chicken. It’s the Mexican palapa all over again. Neither of us would give up the room because we refused to let the other one win. No one will admit their true feelings in this moment because no one wants to be the loser.
Well, he can win this time.
This closet is all his.
Chapter 39
There Goes My Membership
Calder
I stare slack-jawed at Dakota’s back as she storms out of the small room, leaving me standing here with a raging boner and a fucking mess of anxiety swirling all around me. That anxiety manifests as a heaviness in my chest when I finally realize something.
My kink is Dakota Schaefer.
I drop my head into my hands, my mind reeling with that new bit of information that I probably should have figured out fucking days, hell maybe weeks, ago. And she’s not just my kink.
I’m in love with her.
Holy fuck, I’m in love with her.Holy fucking fuck.
All these years of looking for excitement, for a thrill, for new experiences to mask the old, are because I wasn’t with this person.
She is my person.
My feet feel like they’re stuck in mud as I struggle to chase after her, hating the fact that she’s walking this place alone, hating that she’s here at all. I’ve been a miserable asshole since we arrived because I can’t handle everyone looking at her like she’s up for grabs. She’s not.
She’s mine.
