Page 30 of Fighting Fate

“I’m not kissing or fucking you until you admit you like me.”

“Fine.”

“Don’t be difficult,” he states, stroking his lips across mine, teasing and pushing me. “Just say it. Say you like me…and mean it.”

“We barely know each other,” I whisper back, incapable of making it sound true because I know enough to realise that he’s trouble to my needy heart. I’m not prepared for this…for him. Rory is too good for me and too good to be real.

“All right,” he says, releasing his hold and taking a step back from me. “I guess this is goodnight, then.”

“Fine!” What the fuck is wrong with me? I should shrug his pushy, annoying arse away and call it a night. Instead, I tell him, “I like you.”

“How much?” Rory asks, his hands anchoring on my hips as he brings himself flush to me again. The grip is bruising, and the achy fissures from it coil around my bones in such a way that I’m trembling. My insides are quaking at the force of his hold on me.

Sucking in an unsteady breath, I reply, “More than I should.”

“That’s good a place as any to start.” He smiles at me, causing my chest to constrict some more.

A good place to start?

Sure, he’s texted me every single day since dinner at his place. And sure, it was nice. Peter only ever texted me when he wanted a sex fix. Come to think about it, we never actually did anything other than fuck. The sex was good but not great and…and…

No one has ever been this nice to me.But I’m not ready for a relationship. I’m not sure I can trust a man again. This isn’t what I want. I can’t get tangled up in something that will only end in more heartbreak.

Taking my hand, Rory leads me up the steps to my front door while the taxi pulls away. I’m so lost in my inner turmoil that he has to step in to get it open. Panic roils inside me in a way that makes my mouth dry, and my heart doesn’t know whether to stop or go. I’m a walking contradiction. My body is blazing ahead while my head is pulling me back.

I’m one second away from hyperventilating when we reach my floor, and Rory pauses in front of me. He must sense the bedlam in my head because he tells me, “I’m not saying we’re going to fall in love or…I don’t know…become a thing.”

Disappointment slams into me, overshadowing every other thought because the way that he’s pursued me says something very different. Now, I’m confused both by my feelings toward his statement and by the contradiction of his actions to his words. What I want and what I don’t want.

“Then what?”

“We’re going to have fun, I guess…” Rory pulls me closer so that our toes are touching, and then he laces our hands together. The touch is grounding, causing the tension in my body to ease.

No wonder he knew I was panicking.

“I don’t date, Willow. It’s hard enough going into a fight with my mom and sister watching and knowing that there’s a possibility something could go wrong. A bad hit or fall…or—”

“Why do it, then?”

“Because I love it. Wrestling is in my blood…it’s a part of who I am, and I’ve found nothi—” His sudden pause slams into me, robbing me of the breath I was holding. Narrowed eyes fix on mine for a beat before he shakes his head and continues. “There’s never been anything that compares to it, that I love as much as the adrenaline and thrill. I’ve found no one that makes me feel as alive, not enough to quit it.”

Rory inches closer, lowering his head so that the tips of our noses barely brush together.

“So what? You want to fuck me for fun?”

“Yes, but I also want to get to know you.”

“Why? Why do you need to know me? Why do you need me to like you, then?”

“It’s hard to have fun with someone that you don’t, and I won’t waste my time on people that have their head so far up their ass they can’t see what’s in front of them.”

His frankness draws me closer so that our bodies are pressed snugly together. The instant spark of the touch throws me off-kilter. Although I know that I’m probably one of those people that he doesn’t waste time on, I ignore the voice telling me I don’t deserve him or his obvious honesty. Pulling the key from his little finger, I trail my lips from his stubbled jaw to his lips.

“You done panicking?” he asks, licking across his lips so that the tip of his tongue ghosts my bottom lip too.

“Yes.”

“Good, ’cause I’m done talking.”

---