Page 37 of Wright Kind of Trouble

“I know.”

“Then you were there, and you told me not to see you again, and…”

“And you should go,” I told him.

But still, neither of us moved.

“I should…I should go,” I said when he didn’t move.

I was going to move.

I had to move.

For my own sanity.

So, I took a step backward. This had gone far enough. Chase was the one who had said we couldn’t be together. We were dangerously close to reliving our first experience. In a place surrounded by Wrights, who despised him and his family. If anyone saw us, I wasn’t sure if he’d make it out alive. With my cousin as the new mayor, they could even get away with it.

I took another step. A micro step in my Doc Martens. Then forced myself to do it again.

Away.

Away from Chase Sinclair. And his perfect lips. And stupid dimple. And this dangerous, dangerous desire that sprang up between us like a fount.

I turned, trying to find the courage to flee, and then his hand was on my wrist, yanking me backward.

There were no words.

Just need.

He grasped the back of my head and crashed our lips together. He tasted every bit as incredible as I remembered. Our bodies fit like they were made for this purpose. And oh, I wanted this. I wanted it with every fiber of my being.

But it didn’t change anything.

This kiss changed nothing.

The age difference still existed. It wasn’t going to make my family okay with me dating someone older. Or make our families stop hating each other. This was only going to fan the flames.

And it was unfair.

All of it.

Horribly, wrongfully unfair.

So, despite the fact that I wanted to stay in this moment for all of eternity, I wrenched my head back from him. There was fury in my expression.

“How dare you!” I hissed.

Then, I brought my hand hard against his face. His head snapped to the side, and he stayed here awhile, staring at the wall with fire in his eyes.

My hand stung from the slap, but not as much as the anger coursing through me. His audacity to think that he’d earned that stolen kiss.

Slowly, he turned his face back to me. The look was of a predator, prowling just under the surface of his skin. The one that said he’d do it again and again and he wouldn’t regret it. The one that made me want to let him.

“You were the one who said to wait,” I snarled. His expression didn’t change at my words. “Fuck you.”

I couldn’t stay another second and deal with this. It was hard enough that I wanted it and had to walk away. It was harder still that I could have it, have him, but only in these stolen seconds.

So, I pushed out of his arm and stormed down the hallway toward the back entrance and out of the ballroom. I ignored the elevators and rushed for the ajar stairwell door. I didn’t care that I was several stories up. I needed to burn off the energy of that kiss.

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