Page 87 of The Moment We Know

David’s heart was pounding like a jackhammer, and he took a deep breath, wishing like hell he could rewind the last sixty seconds of his life. But he couldn’t, and since there was no going back, he had to push forward. “She doesn’t need to walk away,” he told Jules, this time very softly.

“That was the agreement you two made. So … yeah, she does,” Jules countered, just as softly.

“No, she doesn’t.” Then, deliberately giving Jules his back, he turned to Paige. “You don’t.”

Paige blinked at him. “I … don’t?”

“No. And I don’t want you to walk away, to be honest.”

Paige didn’t know what the hell was happening, but it felt like all the oxygen had just been sucked from her lungs, making any attempt to do her breathing exercises impossible. David looked utterly sincere as he stood his ground, ignoring Jules while she gave the back of his head her Vlad Putin stare.

“What’s going on, David?” Jules asked.

He held up a hand, not turning around. “Nope. This is now between Paige and me.”

Paige caught Jules’s eye over David’s shoulder, which was sporting a bite mark. “Um … I think it might be a good idea for you to … go.”

Looking like she was on the verge of disputing that, Jules hesitated before backing down; it appeared to take some effort. “All right,” she relented. “But I won’t be far if you need me.”

With one long last look at David’s back, Jules grabbed her go-cup of coffee, a bagel, and her purse, then turned and left the kitchen.

“Fuck,” David muttered, barely waiting until he and Paige were alone. “Seriously … fuck. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”

“What’s going on, David?” Paige asked, repeating Jules’s question.

This was happening now, whether he liked it or not. “I don’t want you to walk away. That’s what’s going on.”

“Huh? Are you serious?”

“Yes. I’ve never wanted you to be able to, actually.”

“But this—” she waved the hand not holding the coffee cup in the air between them, to indicate what had been going on the past two months, “—was never meant to become long-term.”

He nervously cleared his throat. “Yes, it was.”

“It was? I don’t remember that being part of the arrangement.” Paige tilted her head. “Or did I miss something?”

“No, you didn’t miss anything. I kept that part to myself.”

“Uh huh. Why?”

This was where things could get a little tricky, and he hoped she wasn’t going to punch him in the balls. “Because I knew you wouldn’t agree to it, otherwise.”

“So, you decided to trick me.”

“I don’t like the word ‘trick’. It makes me sound … sketchy.”

“How about ‘manipulate’, then? Does that make you sound less sketchy? Because I don’t want your feelings to be hurt, or anything.”

He overlooked her sarcasm. “I don’t like that one, either.”

“Then what would you call it? You got me to agree to an arrangement based on false pretenses.”

Technically, she was right, but there was more to the story than that. He took the coffee cup from her and set it down (so she wouldn’t throw the contents at him), then reached for both of her hands, partly because he needed the connection and partly to keep her from bolting. “Just hear me out, please? Yes, I had an ulterior motive when I suggested our arrangement, but it …” he trailed off. “It was inspired by something you said.”

“Something I said? And what was that?”

“The night we talked about your recovery, you told me you wanted to find a man who was going to make you want sex so much, that you wouldn’t be afraid to fuck his brains out. Remember?”

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