Page 58 of Sin Bin

Before I can even recognize what’s going on, his arm wraps around my waist and pulls me in close. My cheek ends up plastered to his hard-as-a-rock pectoralmuscles.

“Oh, my God,” Iwhisper.

His palms settle on my shoulder blades. “Say it with me now, honey—Andre, you are a godamongmen.”

I don’t know whether to laugh or to stab him with the closest sharp object. It’s a tough decision, made even tougher because the longer that we stand here together, the faster my heart pounds and thewantspreads throughout my body like aninfestation.

An infestation that I doubt will ever becurable.

Confession: I miss him, in more waysthanone.

One of his large hands moves south, just enough that I feel his palm skate the ridges of my spine. His other stays firmly planted on my upper back, keeping me tied to him, keeping me fromfleeing.

Which is the ironic thing, as Andre Beaumont is the one who’s in the habit ofrunning.

Forcing steel into my voice, I say, “Are you done with pulling themachoact?”

His rich laughter rustles the top of my hair. “Not a chanceinhell.”

I inhale sharply, grappling with the decision to stay in his embrace or to push my way to freedom. Briefly, I let my eyes fall shut. Just for a moment. “You never used tohugme.”

The words leave me on a shuddered breath, unintentional, and I know the minute they register in his brain because his chest flinches under my cheek. “It wasn’tallowed.”

“It’s not allowed noweither.”

He doesn’t answer, not right away, and I wonder if I’ve made a disastrous mistake bringing up our muddled past. Then, so quietly I barely hear him, he says, “You’re smart for turning me away the other night, Zo. Trust me on that. We’re better off asfriends.”

The word lands like lead in my belly. “Is that what we are?” I lick my top lip nervously. “Friends?”

His arms tighten around me. “I’ve been ashittyone.”

“You did stick up for me in front of Walter . . . thank youforthat.”

“That’s the thing, Zo, you shouldn’t even be saying thank you in the first place. It should be expected that I have your back,always.”

I’m struggling to find breath, because even though he’s telling me everything I’ve wanted to hear for months now . . . the words aren’t enough.Because you want more. So stupid, but yes, I want more. “What if . . . ” Trailing off, I swallow past the lump in my throat, my nails digging into his back. “What if Idon’t—”

“I want to be friends with you again, Zoe. You calling me at two in the morning just to talk, us going for runs, that sort ofthing.”

Something in his voice doesn’t ring quite right. My fingers find his shirt, and I push back just enough so that I can peer up at his rugged face. “Then why bother doing this? Why bother telling me that there’s no way we’ll have sex again, only for you to try and kiss me the other day? Andnowthis.”

“Would you believe me if I said that I have a hard timeresistingyou?”

“No, I wouldn’t. I think you have a hard time resisting temptation, whether it’s on or off the ice. No matter what you do, you’re always aiming for thesinbin.”

At that, the pads of his fingers tighten on my back before he lets me go completely. His expression is unreadable, so it’s not much of a surprise when he rolls his big shoulders in a shrug, and says, “You’re right. I guess I get a thrill out of thechase.”

Do notreact.

Do notreact.

Do notreact.

As much as I want to curl into myself at his words, I force a bright smile onto my face.Stand strong, girl. “Makes sense,” Itellhim.

His dark eyes meet mine, questioning. “Does it?” he asks, hisvoicelow.

No, itdoesn’t. “Sure.”

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