Page 90 of Sex Coach

I spun around and slammed the glass down. It shattered on impact, but I didn't care. "Please what ?" I shouted. "You came here and accused me of something so awful , it makes me sick, and now you're here because you...what? You think that an apology will make it okay to ask me if I was some selfish bitch instead of just outright telling me that I'm one? No !"

He blinked, looking a little dazed, but whether it was by my outburst or by something I said, I didn't know .

He shifted and instinctively, I backed away. Glass crunched under my foot, and I gasped as a sliver of pain shot through my heel. "Shit !"

He was around the kitchen island in a heartbeat, and before I could ward him off, he had me in his arms. "Put me down!" I snapped .

"In the middle of a bunch of broken glass?" he asked, sounding almost insanely reasonable .

I didn't want him to be chivalrous right now. I wanted him to be an asshole like he'd been the other day. "They're my feet ."

"I don't care. I'm not letting you cut them up," he responded, putting me down on the counter. He then leaned far to the left and grabbed the roll of paper towels and ripped a few off, forming a fat pad. "Here. You deal with that while I clean up the mess ."

As he turned away, I gave his back a dirty look .

"You deal with that..."I mouthed, mocking him, but because I could feel the blood – and the pain – I lifted my foot up. "Oh, shit. Shit. Shit ."

Jake was immediately back in front of me, one hand grabbing my ankle as I sagged back, feeling a little sick. "What's...ouch ."

A piece of glass, almost the size of a quarter, was sticking out of my heel, and the sight of it, all bloody and red, had my head spinning. It wasn't the blood so much that made me feel sick, but the glass sticking out...yeah, that did it .

He shot me a look. "Blood makes you sick?" he asked gently .

"No. Seeing something sticking out of my body does," I said sourly. I gave my foot a tug. "Let me go ."

He didn't though. "It'll be hard for you to deal with this if you can't look at it without getting sick," he replied. He shifted, half-turning his back and using his body as a barrier. "You're right, you know ."

"About...ouch !"

He turned back to me, the bloody piece of glass in his hand. He grabbed a few more paper towels with the free one and dumped the bloodied glass onto it. "I want to make sure there's nothing more inside it ."

"Inside..."

His eyes dropped to my foot .

"Oh." My belly rolled but I nodded .

A few seconds later, another dart of pain lit through me. Jake, voice soft and easy, spoke throughout. "I shouldn't have accused you. You were right. I'm sorry about that. I came over here...hell, Michelle...are you crying? Did I hurt you that bad ?"

"I cut my foot open!" I sniffed and jerked against his hold once more. This time, he let go, and I pulled my injured appendage in, pressing the paper towel pad against it. It was still sore, but not as bad as it had been when he pressed on it .

"There was another piece in there – probably broke off from that bigger chunk." He sounded hesitant, something I had never associated with him. "I didn't mean to hurt you ."

"Stop being nice!" I went to push off the counter, only to freeze, but the light glittered off the remnants of the glass I broke. I slid my gaze along the floor, wondering if I could scoot along the surface and make my way down to where there wasn't any glass .

"Don't even think about it," Jake warned, pointing a finger at my nose .

I smacked it away, surprising us both. "You don't get to tell me what to do," I said, jutting my chin up. "After what you accused me of ."

"Aw, fuck." He moved back to me, glass crunching under his boots. "I'm sorry, Michelle, okay? I'm sorrier than you'll ever know. I haven't slept worth shit since I left here and not because I was mad at you..." He blew out a breath, looking away. "Some part of me knew I was off base. I was mad at me, but I think ..."

He stopped talking and just shook his head .

"You think what?" I asked .

His eyes came back to mine. "You scare me," he said quietly. "Everything about you scares me. I think I reacted out of fear because you scare me, and you make me rethink the things I thought I had to focus on. It makes it damn hard to carry on with doing what needs to be done when you're worried about somebody else, when you're thinking about somebody else..." He reached up and cupped my cheek. My heart jumped as he rubbed his thumb over my lower lip. "When you find you're suddenly needing somebody else ."

"You don't need me," I said, my voice thick .

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