Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 21056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 105(@200wpm)___ 84(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 105(@200wpm)___ 84(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
He cleared his throat. “Lila.”
I looked up. “Hey,” I said far too breathlessly.
“We need to talk.” His voice was low and conflicted. He crossed the room, sat on the coffee table in front of me, knees brushing mine.
I set the album aside. “Okay.”
He rubbed a hand over his face. “Every time I touch you, I feel like shit afterwards. Like I’ve betrayed something.”
The pain in his eyes made my chest ache. “I hate that you feel that way,” I admitted softly. “The taboo weighs on me, too. What would people say? But the attraction and how I feel about you… it overrides everything. I can’t stop wanting you.”
He reached out and cupped my cheek. “That’s why we have to stop. Before it destroys us.”
I leaned into his touch. “I’m sure you’re right, but I don’t want to stop this,” I whispered.
He hesitated then groaned and pulled me forward. The kiss started soft, almost tender, but heated up fast. His hands roamed my body, tracing my curves like he was memorizing them. I explored him back with my fingers slipping under his shirt to feel the hard planes of his chest.
“My perfect girl,” he murmured against my lips.
The truth was, I didn’t know if I could keep my sanity with this stop and go. My desire for Marcus was driving me fucking crazy, and I was wound so tight with need I could barely think.
He stood, adjusted himself again, and I couldn’t help but stare at the massive bulge pressing against his jeans.
He walked away without another word, and I sat there in the dim light, body buzzing, mind a whirlwind of desire. The attraction sharpened into something addictive. And the guilt? It only fueled the fire.
This raw, hot annoyance filled me. This was the third time he did this, the third time we were hot and passionate, only for him to shut things down and dismiss me. I knew he was handling his guilt and confusion over his feelings for me in different ways, but Marcus was driving me crazy with the way he kept going hot and cold.
I vowed to myself that if he pulled this shit again, I was the one who would shut it down.
Chapter Six
Lila
The next few days settled into a rhythm that felt both familiar and dangerously charged.
Marcus wasn’t avoiding me, not deliberately, anyway. The job site had hit a snag with a commercial build downtown with a tight deadline, weather delays, and a crew short two men after one quit and another got hurt.
He left before dawn most mornings, came home long after dark, and was exhausted. He’d crash on the couch so he wouldn’t wake me climbing the stairs, showered downstairs, and be gone again before I stirred.
It wasn’t rejection. It was work. It still sucked.
The space it created between us only sharpened the tension.
I spent my days packing and going room by room, boxing memories I wasn’t sure I wanted to keep. Mom’s old recipe cards, photo albums from holidays I barely remembered, the chipped ceramic mug Marcus used to drink coffee from every morning when he was still married to her.
Every creak of the floorboards made me look toward the door, half-expecting him to walk in early. He never did.
I needed air and noise that wasn’t the echo of my own thoughts.
So on Friday afternoon, I texted Sarah and Kiara. I hadn’t seen my former high-school friends in forever, but I knew they were still local. I suggested drinks at Fried Pickles. They responded instantly with emojis and plans to meet at seven.
I left Marcus a note on the counter letting him know I’d be out late with a couple friends and not to wait up.
The bar was a town favorite and smelled like spilled beer and fryer oil. The jukebox still took quarters, and Sarah and Kiara were already at a high-top in the back, waving me over like I’d been gone for decades instead of a few years.
“Lilaaaa!” Sarah pulled me into a hug that smelled like vanilla and tequila. “You’re finally back.”
“Still in transition,” I laughed, sliding onto the stool. “Helping pack boxes and trying not to lose my mind.”
Kiara leaned forward, eyes glinting. “And still living with the hottest stepdad in the history of stepdads?”
My stomach flipped. “Kiara.”
“What?” she grinned, unrepentant. “I’m just saying. Marcus is stupid hot. Always was. Remember senior year when he picked you up from that party in that black T-shirt looking all pissed and growly? I swear the entire porch forgot how to breathe.”
Sarah snorted into her drink. “She’s not wrong. The man is built like a tank and looks like he could bench-press a truck. Are you sure you’re not tempted to… accidentally trip into his lap while he’s fixing something?”
I forced a laugh that felt thin. “You two are ridiculous. That’s weird.”