Page 124 of Tell Me Something True

He wanted to fuck her. That was it.

And he thought about her. A lot.

Fantasized about her when he jacked off.

And he couldn’t seem to walk away from her.

No matter how hard he tried.

“Is Titus okay?” she called when she was still twenty feet away.

Hearing Verity say his name, Titus got to his feet. Swaying like he was drunk, his tail wagging, he did a doggy version of a happy dance, all four paws tapping against the truck bed in excitement, body vibrating.

He didn’t know which one of them had a bigger thing for her. Him. Or his dog.

Reed nodded in response to her question, and she glanced at her car. Like now that she had her answer, she had nothing else to say.

Fuck that. She always had more to say.

“He’s a little loopy,” Reed blurted out. “Is that normal?”

Heart pounding, he watched the indecision cross her face. Remembered what she’d said to him the last time he’d seen her.

If you see me, don’t talk to me. If we’re in the same space, leave.

He was breaking their agreement. Going against her wishes after he’d told her keeping his distance would be easy for him to do.

It wasn’t his fault she didn’t realize he was nothing but a fucking liar.

Part of him hoped she’d walk away. That she’d be the one to finally end whatever this was between them once and for all.

If only because he couldn’t seem to do it himself.

But even though he told himself her walking away was what he wanted, when she instead started walking toward him again, relief rushed through him so hard, so fast, he had to lean against the tailgate so he didn’t fall on his ass.

Another thing she kept taking from him.

His fucking pride.

“It is normal,” she said. “It takes between twenty-four and forty-eight hours for the anesthesia to fully wear off, and he might be sleepy for the next twelve to twenty-four hours. Just do your best to keep him comfortable and keep an eye on him for that period.”

Her phone buzzed with a call, and she stopped to check it, this time eight feet away.

Stayed there.

He straightened. He didn’t like that. Didn’t like that she kept any amount of distance between them. He’d gotten used to her invading his personal space. Standing close enough for him to smell the coconut scent of her shampoo. Casually patting his upper arm, like they were friends. Gently wrapping her hand around his forearm or wrist like she was on his side.

He didn’t touch her back. Couldn’t.

There would be nothing friendly or casual about it, because there was nothing gentle or sweet about the way he wanted her.

The things he wanted to do her.

The one, the only time he’d let himself touch her was when they’d danced at Patton’s wedding, and even then, he’d kept his touch feather light. His hands settled respectfully on her waist.

And he could still feel the silky material of her dress under his fingers. The curve of her hips under his palms. The warmth of her skin seeping into his.

It was his punishment for daring to touch something so pristine and innocent.

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