Page 88 of Always Be an Us

I should. His eyes show sincerity, and I know he means every single word he says.

But I don’t say the word 'no.' Instead, I wrap my hands around his neck and kiss him back with everything that I have.

Declan's warning echoes in my head as I head home that day to pick up a change of clothes. Declan returned to the Pink Hotel, to check on the progress. I'm supposed to pick up my clothes and then head to the Marriot to hang out with Amelia.

I'm almost in through my front door when I see something in my backyard, the distant shadow on the walls.

And then it moves quickly.

I scream.

I fumble with the key, managing to get it out of the lock, and then bolt into the house, fear pounding through me. I have a thought to lock the door behind me, but horror seizes me at the sight that meets me.

My house has been ransacked.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Declan

I tap my hand on the wheel as I drive, vaguely unsettled. I want to pretend it’s because of all the work I have to do when I get back. Or maybe it's because I haven't checked in on Amelia yet, but the truth is that my uneasy feelings are directed at Emma.

Beautiful, sweet, Emma.

I meant everything I said to her back in that cave. She’s such a lovable person and deserves a man who is just as sweet as her, who will give her all the time and affection she deserves, and who worships the ground she walks on.

I'm not that man.

And the fact that I want to growl and pounce just imagining her with another man proves that I'm not the kind of person who can put her needs above my selfish desire. If I was, I would have let her go already.

Or I would never have started this affair in the first place.

I’ve known since the beginning that this was going to be a disaster. It’s borderline sinful for a man like me to be with Emma.

Not only am I significantly older than her, but I’m also more jaded and, as Rachel would put it, more ‘emotionally constipated.’ Emma is the type of person who only knows how to give and give, and I have no problem taking.

So I simply don’t have the right tools to give her what she needs.

Even though a little part of me really fucking wishes I did.

I clench my fingers around the wheel.

So, what the fuck do I do now?

I did the right thing by telling Emma the truth and not letting her think this was something more than it was. Even though it gutted me to see the hurt in her eyes, it's better she hurts now rather than later.

It would be even better for her if she simply stayed away from me.

Or I could do her a favor and stay away from her.

I chuckle humorlessly. But that's not going to happen, is it?

Emma has somehow needled herself somewhere deep inside my psyche and has quickly become an addiction.

Even now the hunger to be with her strums through me and tautens into a tight string that grows even tighter the farther away I get from her.

I want to rush through my afternoon work so I can see her again. Maybe I can take her to the ice cream place she was telling me about. Maybe we can bring some home and I can eat it off her body.

Despite myself, a genuine smile spreads across my lips. That seems like a splendid idea.

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