Page 38 of Wright Kind of Trouble

Forget that was the last kiss I’d get from him.

At least before, I’d had our perfect weekend to remember.

Now, even that was spoiled.

And I didn’t know how to reconcile that with the pain I still felt from his absence.

Wanting him was wrong.

Needing him was worse.

Having him was the hardest of all.

11

Chase

Fuck.

Fucking fuck.

I’d fucked up.

It took me a few seconds to process her leaving. The anger and pain and desire in her expression had mingled all into that one slap. I’d been avoiding another hit from a Wright and not ever considered it would come from Harley. And I’d earned it.

I took off before I could think of anything else to do.

She hadn’t deserved it.

I needed to right this wrong.

When I got out to the hallway, she was already gone. Not a sign of her.

“Fuck,” I snarled.

I hustled to the elevator bank and slammed my hand down on the button until it finally dinged open a minute later. I pushed for the lobby floor and tapped my foot relentlessly against the metal bottom. It was taking too long. She’d already taken an elevator, and I was going to miss her. And then there was no way to apologize or fix this.

“Fuck,” I said again, throwing my fist into the elevator. I shook out my hand, ignoring the pain from connecting with the metal, and bounced from foot to foot, preparing to dash after her.

But as I hurried out of the elevator, the door to the stairwell opened, and a breathless Harley stepped into the lobby.

“No,” she said and started walking toward the exit.

“Harley.”

“Chase, don’t.”

She walked through the sliding glass doors and out into the forty-degree weather beyond in her sleeveless dress. She was shivering as she walked away from me.

“Harley, wait, it’s cold,” I said as I followed at her heels.

“I’m not waiting. I already told you that.”

I shucked my jacket off and put it over her shoulders. She jerked to a stop, and I nearly ran into her. She whipped around, her blunt bangs and bob swinging around her face, which was lit with desperation.

“What is this?” she asked as she tugged on the suit jacket. She inhaled sharply, as if even the scent of me on the thing was disarming.

“You were cold.”

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