Page 102 of Playing My Rivals

“Like I said, I was freezing. My clothes were soaked, so I stripped out of them. I was wrapped in some blankets we found. I couldn’t get warm. No matter what I did, I was still shivering and my teeth were chattering.”

“So you thought, ‘Maybe if I fuck him, I’ll get warm.’ Help me out because so far I’m not understanding your logic.” My eyes burn into hers.

Her expression drips with guilt. “No. I asked him to warm me because I couldn’t feel my toes. Everyone knows sharing body heat is the fastest way to increase your body temperature.”

“So, in the name of science.” Disgust fills my lungs. “I’m sure you had a tough time convincing him.”

“He didn’t want to. He even resisted it at first.” She swallows and pulls in a deep breath.

I can’t believe I’m sitting here with her, listening to her talk about having sex with another man. My stomach turns and my chest fills with hate for him. It’s taking all my willpower not to go downstairs and slit his throat.

“Of course, you’re going to defend him.” I push off the couch to get my drink.

This is too much to take on sober. Sue me for self-medicating. It’s no skin off my back.

“Hunter, I’m not defending him. I’m explaining how it happened. He didn’t do it against you or to prove something.” She follows me.

“Are you sure about that?” I turn and give her a questioning look.

“Yes. We got into bed so I would warm up. He was holding me innocently.”

“Innocently? You were naked in his arms and you think his thoughts were innocent? Were you born yesterday?” I take a drink to feel the burn. Something needs to divert my pain.

“He wasn’t… I…I was the one who initiated it.”

“What the fuck?” Blindsided doesn’t even describe what that just did to me.

The room distorts again, turning into a kaleidoscope of blood, agony, and rage.

I never would have believed that she was the one who started it. Their connection is worse than I thought. I rest my hands on the edge of the counter and lean over to get my bearings.

She wants him as much as he wants her. I don’t even know where to go from here.

My body is numb other than these pulses of extreme fear caused by visions of her ending it so she can be with him. Fear is too weak of a word. It’s more like hysteria. I went from rage to wanting to crawl on my knees and tell her I forgive her—anything to make this excruciating suffering go away.

The thought of her walking out the door is driving me right now. I’m desperate. I can’t live without her. I have to fix what we have.

It’s the most irrational thought I’ve ever had.

I should be kicking her out of my house and then be on my way to kill the bastard. But no, I’m here at her mercy, hoping we can salvage this.

I fucking hate being in love.

“It was my fault, Hunter. Not his.”

“Did I ever cross your mind?” I stand with my hands planted on my hips, staring at her in despair.

Her gaze darts to her glass and she pours herself more wine. My heart shrinks.

“Please answer my question. If you want me to understand this and not kill him, I need to know what brought you to that decision.” I allow her the silence while she thinks about it for a few beats.

“I don’t know how you want me to answer that. No matter what I say, it’ll hurt you.”

I bark out a fake laugh. “Now you’re worried about hurting me? We crossed that line long ago, don’t you think? What’s a little more?”

“I’m sorry. I never wanted this to happen. Never in a million years did I think I would hurt you like this.” Tears fill her eyes.

“Then tell me what I want to know. Don’t sugarcoat it.” I slam another drink. “If there’s any speck of you that wants me to forgive you, answer the question. Honestly.”

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