Page 17 of Heartless
“Leaving,” she deadpans.
“Why?”
Her eyes roll as she turns away from me and starts setting things back into her barely unpacked suitcase. “Because I’m not spending my summer living with a woman hater who doesn’t trust me and will be an over-the-top control freak the entire time I’m here.”
I lurch back a little like she’s slapped me. “I’m not a woman hater.”
She bends over to grab a pair of pink, fluffy slippers. The kind that would melt into plastic in the heat of a fire. I try not to fixate on the way her shorts creep up the smooth skin on her thighs. “You should try harder not to look at me like you hate me, then.”
It’s not the first time people have told me this. But it’s the first time I’ve faced the reality of how it might make them feel. It’s not intentional. I’m pretty sure it’s just my default facial expression now. My smiling muscles have lost all their tone.
“I don’t hate you.”
She rises, a wry laugh twisting her features as her copper waves fly around her neck. “Could have fooled me.”
“I’m sorry.”
Her chin juts out, and she holds up a hand to her ear. “Pardon? I think I misheard that.”
“I’m. Sorry.” I bite out. “I’m having a hard time letting him go.”
I watch her shoulders fall as she hisses out a sigh. “That’s fair. But there’s no amount of money in the world you could pay me to stay here and be your punching bag all summer.”
I fucking love the pair on this girl. If I weren’t so irritated by how attracted I am to her, I’d be cheering her on.
I glance over my shoulder toward Luke’s room, where my entire world is sleeping. The little boy who is excited at the prospect of spending the next couple of months with the firecracker in front of me.
“Stay,” I mutter, holding a hand up to stop her and staring down at that line on the floor. The one stopping me from storming in there and dragging her back out to the table and forcing her to listen to me.
She stops shoving stuff into her bag and turns to face me, crosses her arms beneath her generous breasts and cocks a hip. If attitude were a person, she’d be it.
“Beg.”
“Pardon me?”
“You heard me.” Her lips don’t even twitch. She’s not joking at all. “Beg.”
My cheeks heat against my will. My heart thunders in my chest. She’s got me so on my heels it’s not even funny. I can’t allow it to last. But can I suck it up for the sake of making her turn her ass around?
Maybe.
“Please stay.”
She doesn’t react other than to arch an eyebrow.
“Don’t leave.”
Her lips roll together in the most distracting way.
I sigh, propping my hands on my hips and staring up at the stippled ceiling above me.
“Luke is everything to me, and I want him to have a fun summer. Proper fun. Sometimes he’s stuck out on this ranch with a bunch of adults, and I worry he doesn’t get enough attention from me because I work such long hours. And I needhelpbecause it’s all just way too much. I’m fucking exhausted.” My chin drops, and I look her in the eye. “I really need your help. Please stay.”
The column of her throat shifts, and her eyes take on a slightly glassy quality. With a few soft steps, she comes to stand right in front of me. She smells like citrus and vanilla. Like some fancy pastry at the coffee shop in town. I can’t help but lean in just a little bit.
She draws close. It almost feels too close in the dimly lit room. Too intimate in the quiet house. It feels like the kind of moment where you could make a mistake and no one would ever know.
And maybe I already made a mistake tonight, or maybe I’m about to make one. Usually I’m so sure of myself. But in this instance, I’m struggling to tell right from wrong.
