Page 80 of Bitter Queen (Advantage Play 4)

Where the hell is this coming from?

“Look, I’m tired. I don’t want to argue. I just figured you might want some space, and I’m trying to give it to you.”

“Why would I want space?”

A low curse escapes his lips before he roughly rubs his hand from his forehead to his chin as his exhaustion and frustration fight for dominance.

“Just…get some rest, Q.” Then he heads to the exit.

Reaching for his arm, I force him to stay with me before stepping between him and his escape. His eyes widen for an instant, then return to indifference as he stares at the wall behind me, pretending like I don’t even exist.

“What’s going on with you?” I demand.

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit. Talk to me. Something’s different.”

“Get some sleep, Q.”

“Will you stop it?” I spit before standing on my tiptoes in hopes of grabbing his attention, but he refuses to look at me. And it kills me. “Do you not want to sleep with me anymore? Is that it?”

He scoffs. “It’s called fucking.”

I flinch back. “Excuse me?”

“I didn’t stutter.”

“Stop! Stop being like this,” I plead. “Please. I’m begging you. I don’t know what happened tonight, or why you’re acting like this, but please don’t push me away. This isn’t like you. Will you…will you just look at me?”

His hardened eyes find mine. But for the first time since we met, they aren’t warm and inviting. The light isn’t there. He’s nothing but a stranger. And it chills me to the bone.

“D….”

“I just need some space.”

“Why me?” I choke out, praying he won’t break my heart when I was so close to giving it to him. “I want to know why you wanted me that day in Kingston’s office. Was I just a pretty face? A toy? Something to pass the time? Something to fuck?” My voice breaks. “Why me?”

His eyes soften and lose their flinty sheen, giving me a glimpse of the man I’ve been falling for. The warmth from his hand melts a bit of the iciness building between us as he lifts his hand and cups my cheek. I lean into his touch, desperate to fix this. Whatever this is.

His gaze drops down to my lips, but he stays quiet as the air pulses between us, leaving me with more questions than answers. We’ve been having sex regularly ever since I gave myself to him. And every time we connected physically and emotionally, I’ve healed a little more. Each and every touch erased the scars created by Sei’s abuse. Each and every moment eased the ache in my chest and hinted at a future that I thought was ripped away from me.

One that’s filled with happiness, and unconditional love, and safety.

But I want it with the man in front of me. The scary mafia man who saved me from Hell. The guy who watches Hallmark movies just to see me smile and taught me self-defense.

That guy.

Not the guy from two minutes ago who looked at me with contempt. Like I was chewed gum that he stepped in by accident and is left to clean up the mess.

And right now, I don’t know what to think.

“You want the truth, Q?” he asks, that same tortured expression slipping into his features.

“Yes,” I whisper.

“I wanted you because I knew you were stronger than you think. Sexier than you can imagine. And just broken enough to accept me and my connection to the Romano family.”

Confused, my eyebrows pinch, and I replay his comment before asking, “What do you mean?”

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