love and not be bothered—but I was wrong. I was bothered. Every breath we shared in that same room, I felt myself giving in to him more and more. I was falling back into old habits so easily.
And sometimes, when I looked in his eyes during those quiet moments, with my hands on his skin, I thought just maybe, he might be falling, too.
• • •
I took a little extra time while getting ready for our session today. Usually, I keep my hair pulled back in a sleek pony, so it’s out of my way while I work, but today, I took the time to straighten it out so that it flows down my back. I even went as far as adding a little makeup. Normally, I prefer to be barefaced but not today. I tell myself it’s because I have another date with Beau tonight, but deep down, I know that’s not why I did it.
And I hate myself for it.
No longer needing the crutches, Reeve hobbles into the room, looking as handsome and as formidable as ever. He jerks to a stop when he sees me, a crease forming between his brows as he takes in the hair and the soft makeup.
“What’s wrong?” I ask after he doesn’t move or say anything. He’s just standing there, frozen over the threshold, staring at me with a blank expression on his face. He shakes his head.
“Nothing. You look nice.”
I dip my head down, hiding the heat as it rises to my cheeks in embarrassment. Clearing my throat, I begin the session by patting the massage table, indicating for him to lie down.
“I have a date later. Figured I’d get ready now, so I won’t have to rush to do it later.”
His body stiffens on the makeshift bed. “Please don’t tell me it’s with Beau.” The coldness in his tone and the underlying warning there give me pause. Slowly, I glance up, and I’m taken aback by the rage I see there.
“Don’t start this again, Reeve,” I warn. “You’re not going to like my answer.”
He shoots off the table, stalking toward me. “He’s not good enough for you. Why are you so hell-bent on falling in love with guys who don’t deserve you?”
His words are a slap in the face. I press my lips together, frustration coursing through my veins. “You don’t know me anymore. And that’s so rich coming from you. You’re one of them!”
He crowds me into the wall, glaring down at me, his chest heaving. “You’re damn right. You were always too good for me. You were too good for everyone. But that didn’t stop me then, and that’s not going to stop me now,” he growls out just before his mouth descends on mine. A shocked gasp rips past my lips, leaving my mouth open to his ministrations, and he takes advantage, kissing me with an urgency like no other.
Tingles spread down my spine in awareness like no other. I moan into his mouth, my hands sliding around the back of his neck, tugging him to me. His plump lips work with mine in tandem, stirring lust and emotions inside me that I’ve long since buried.
Suddenly, he pulls back, our chests heaving, my breasts grazing his firm body as we stare at each other, our lips red and used from the aggressive kiss. Like two magnets snapping together, he kisses me again, and this time, he slides his hands under my backside, lifting me into his arms, and my legs lock around his waist. I draw him into me and gasp when I feel his erection digging into my center. He sets me on the table and continues kissing me.
I start stripping out of my shirt when it hits me. The reality of what we’re doing slams into me, and I freeze. Ice floods my veins as does shame, and I jerk back away from him.
“Oh, no. No, no,” I whisper. “This isn’t happening. This can’t happen.”
“Camila. Just let—”
My hand sails across his cheek, shocking us both at the sharp sting of contact. My hands fly to my mouth, covering my gasp, and my eyes widen. I didn’t mean to do that.
He rakes a frustrated hand through his hair. “Just let me explain. It’s not what you think. About that night.” My entire body goes rigid at the mention of that night. I push past him, trying to get away. “Camilla, Christ, just listen to me for once.”
I whirl on him, tears blurring my vision. “You cheated