this. The more I poke and prod at him, the more backlash I’ll receive, and I don’t want any of that.
Instead, I stroke his back.
“I haven’t told anyone that,” he admits. “I don’t know why I told you.”
“Because I asked.”
“Because you won’t judge me.”
I pull away, putting his face into view. “I would never judge you.”
Our faces are so close our noses are practically touching, and the moment our eyes meet we become locked there. This is the closest I’ve ever been to Nash, and the sliver of emotion he etched into my heart a moment ago opens like a stab wound, and I find myself feeling an intense attachment to the one man I deemed off-limits. And this is somehow far worse than inviting him to fuck me a few days ago and having him making me come the next night. No, sex is one thing. Zara probably even expects us to fuck at some point. But feelings? Strong feelings, no. That’s where I know it will break her heart and shatter our friendship into a million pieces.
But when he presses his lips softly to mine, I can’t pull away. It’s a soft, dry kiss, at first. But after a moment, his tongue slips far enough into my mouth to scrape against my teeth, and I drip like melting wax onto the floor.
“We shouldn’t,” I mumble, pushing him away.
“I don’t care.”
I lose the fight as he forces me against him, kissing me deeper, but somehow still as soft. Soon our kiss becomes heated, panting into each other’s mouths.
“Nash, I’m serious.”
He doesn’t argue, because I know he sees it the same way I do. This kiss is about more than sex.
With our mouths still only a couple inches apart, he whispers, “I don’t care about him, Hanna. I want you.”
Pushing his shoulder until there is more space between us, I stare at him. “But do you? Want him?”
“I don’t know.” And that’s the most I can expect out of him on this issue now.
There is sincerity in his eyes, and for a moment it’s the real Nash. No tough exterior, no walls or aggression. Just Nash.
But with a blink of an eye and completely out of nowhere it changes. “Do you?”
“Do I what?” I ask, pulling away, but his grip on my back won’t let me.
“I know he was in your room until midnight. I heard what he said to you today. You threw yourself at him, and I mean, I can’t say I’m surprised, but here you are kissing me. So…do you want Ellis or not?”
Everything warm and comfortable is immediately sucked out of the room, and the nurturing emotion I felt a moment ago is gone. This time I shove against him violently, and he finally releases me. I want to slap him. I want to claw at his face for the way he makes me feel, so easily he breaks me down, making me a speck of dust.
“I can’t fucking believe you. Is that what this is all about? You’re jealous of him. Jealous I went to him and not you. That I want him and not you!”
He grabs me by the arms, squeezing me so tight I know it’ll bruise as he shoves me toward the door. “Get out, you fucking slut. You’re all the goddamn same.”
I let out a loud, “Ha!” as I spin around toward him. “You think I’m her. You’re still so stuck on Zara you think this is that situation all over again. Is that why you sucked his dick, Nash? To keep him from wanting me so you wouldn’t end up broken hearted again?”
The sudden change of tone nearly makes my head spin, and I know I’m being too fucking harsh, but I’m too fired up to care. Nash plays with emotions, and he had me for a second. Or rather I had him, for a short moment before he covered it all back up and pushed me away. Well, as much as I want to help him, I’m not going to let him call me names and treat me like shit and take it. Fuck that.
“Or is it the other way around?” I snap. “Are you trying to distract me so you have him all to yourself? You and your fucking daddy issues, you can have him!”
“Fuck off, Hanna!” This time when he comes to grab me again, I come out swinging. He blocks the first hit, but my second swing ends with my closed fist against his face, and