Page 25 of Infinite

I want to admit that Denver and I were never real. That it was all part of my job. It’s what I think I need to do so Hale will trust me. But the anger and resentment Hale unleashed like a storm remains. As much as I want to trust him with the truth, now is not the time to come clean.

He glances over his shoulder, frowning. I expect him to accuse me of lying or demand that I give him some privacy. Instead, he walks toward the sound of the running water, not bothering to shut the clear glass doors leading into an ultra-modern bathroom.

I follow, drawn to him, barely noticing my steps until mere feet separate us.

The bathroom isn’t like those you find in a regular hotel, even in some of the five-star hotels New York is famous for. This is an extreme penthouse in a building that caters to the wealthy and the famous. The ceiling is clear glass, permitting the sunshine through and the lingering clouds to float over a masterpiece resembling an Asian-inspired garden.

Wood printed tile surround a sunken Jacuzzi and makes up half the open room, fooling the eye to believe I’m in an outdoor terrace surrounded by stacked stone walls. I step onto the round pavers pressed into a gravel path leading to the open shower.

Instead of glass walls like the exterior, exotic plants surround the shower, barely concealing Hale’s wet body and the steam rising from his skin. This is a fantasy.Myfantasy of what my night with Hale should have been, instead of what it became.

Reason abandons me. The pull of Hale tempting me to strip and join him.

I can feel the warmth of his body as I wrap my arms around him. I can taste the water slicking my lips as I kiss and nibble his throat. I can sense the gentle stream of the rain shower drenching my hair and skin as my hands wander.

Would he let me touch him? Like he did so long ago? I’m not sure. But I owe Hale better than that.

I’m sorry I hurt you,I want to say.

I’m sorry that I wasn’t stronger.

Things went too far.

I should have stopped them.

I should have stoppedhim.

I should have let you love me . . .

The apology that has gone too long without saying grows more burdensome, years of guilt making it heavier and impossible to say. “I’m sorry,” doesn’t feel like enough. I need to show him and to prove how sorry I am.

I lean against the pillar and cross my arms. The steam will wreak havoc on my hair. I let it. I have something more important to do.

“I want to help you,” I say. “Will you let me?”

When he doesn’t answer, I look up, watching as he soaps his hard body in slow, lazy circles. He doesn’t miss a bulge. He doesn’t miss much of anything.

Hale’s no longer that young guy who made me laugh. He no longer carries that playfulness in his gaze that would always make me smile. He’s all man and muscle and, my,so angry.

His voice cuts through the steam in a vicious swipe. “No.”

“What?” I demand, my temper rising.

A stream of water flies in an arc with how fast he whips his head in my direction. “I don’t trust you. Damn it, Becks. Ican’ttrust you.”

Hurt dissolves my anger, softening my voice. “Why? We used to tell each other everything.”

“Not everything,” he says. He flicks off the jets, the gesture as stiff as his tone. To his right there’s a towel and a robe. He doesn’t bother with the robe. Why would he? Clearly, he doesn’t care that I’m here or what I see.

I turn around, giving him my back as he starts to dry off. For all that he’s naked, I’m the one who feels exposed.

In the quiet that lingers, I hear every rough pass he makes with the towel as if he were on top of me.

On top of me. Excellent choice of words, Becca.

I fuss with my hands. It’s a gesture my mother often made when she was nervous and worried about how my father would react. I hated it. It made her look weak and him more dominant. Mostly, I hate that I’m doing it in front of Hale.

Hale’s feet slap against the tile, his steps closing in. In the reflection of the glass wall separating the bathroom from the bedroom, I see the robe where it dangles from the bamboo rail. It’s not on the hook. He’d taken it down, but then had second thoughts . . .

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