Page 41 of Fractured Rhythm

“Bash, please,” I whispered against his lips before kissing him again.

A groan rumbled through his body before he tightened his hold on me and gave me the kiss I needed.

It was like coming home.

My tongue darted out, tracing the seam of his lips, and he groaned against my mouth before opening for me. We moved slowly, consuming each other, our tongues tangling in a kiss that was familiar but different. I’d missed this so much. A moan escaped my lips, and he swallowed it, kissing me with a passion I hadn’t felt in my life since the last time we kissed.

Then it was over too soon. I wasn’t sure who ended it, but as I took a step back, I questioned my sanity.

What the hell was I thinking? Kissing Bash was a horrible idea. Yes, I was emotional today, and memories of what we used to have flooded my brain even before we started kissing. But this was a mistake. I was still trying to process what had ended our relationship in the first place. How could I trust someone who had so easily lied to me when he was supposed to be so much more than a random boyfriend?

“Bash. We have to stop,” I said, my voice weak as I tried to catch my breath.

“Pretty sure you started it,” he said, and I took another step back. “Sorry, that was unnecessary. We have a history. This was never going to be easy.”

I sighed. “I’m still figuring everything out. Can we—can we not do this now?”

“I get it, Cas. I’m going to go, but don’t shut me out anymore. I want to get back to whatever you’ll give me. I’ll be here for you as long as you’ll let me, in whatever capacity that is,” he said. Then he pulled me into a quick hug before he let me go and headed down the hall to the bank of elevators before I could say anything else.

The following morning,I stared at my computer; the images growing fuzzy as I tried to concentrate on finding a few recipe options for my video shoot later this week. My concentration was a disaster, and I’d been waffling for the last hour trying to decide on dessert or easy dinners and what country I wanted to focus on this week.

But all I could think of was Bash and that damn kiss that never should’ve happened, and how I stupidly wanted it to happen again. I hadn’t forgiven him now that I knew the real reason for our breakup, but it lessened the sting to know that he didn’t cheat on me. I believed him instantly when he confessed everything. He never would’ve made that up about my brother, though I hated Jamie’s involvement in all of it. I had to focus on moving on from all of this and not think about how amazing he tasted, or how my body felt pressed against his.

I took in a shuddering breath. I was a freaking mess. I’d already bailed on coffee this morning with Griff and evaded his question about dinner. I needed to be fully present when I told him we could only be friends, which couldn’t happen that day.

I shook my head and focused back on my computer. We’d done a video on making the perfect fluffy Japanese cheesecake last Friday, so maybe fast and easy paella and other Spanish street foods for tomorrow. Or we could do Greek desserts that featured pistachios.

Now I was getting hungry and was craving the leftover pistachio ice cream in my freezer. Then I was thinking about eating ice cream with Bash. Then kissing Bash…

Dammit. No pistachio anything this week.

I clicked through a few more recipes, and my internal messenger app popped up.

Belinda:Did you decide what we’re cooking tomorrow? Want to make sure we have all the ingredients on site.

Cassie:Figuring that out now. Give me twenty.

Belinda:Perfect.

I scanned through all my open internet browsers and, after settling on the Spanish street food idea, sent Belinda a list of what we needed. Then I made sure that we booked one of the studios for tomorrow afternoon. I pulled up my budget spreadsheet for last Friday’s shoot to make sure I didn’t miss anything before I sent it up to Carl in accounting. It was my least favorite part of the job. I wanted to experiment with new foods and produce fun and engaging videos, not stare at numbers on a spreadsheet.

My phone buzzed on my desk and I swiped it on.

Bash:Hope your morning is going well. We missed you at the bar last night.

Heat rolled through me seeing his name. I’d wondered if he’d message me today. He said the ball was in my court, and I’d resisted texting him. I’d wanted him to reach out first. It was stupid, I know, and at the rate I was going, we were definitely going to end up back in bed.

Shit. I couldn’t give in so easy. He’d destroyed everything we had with his lies. Though now the lies didn’t seem as bad as they had before. I was still mad, but my heart was softening again for him. It was pathetic.

I stared at my phone for way too long trying to figure out what to say. Then a photo popped up of Bash, Jax, and Tristan toasting with shot glasses toward an empty glass on the high-top bar table.

For Jamie.

I sucked in a breath and my phone buzzed again.

Holly:We’re still on for lunch, right? I need to hear how the rest of the weekend went since you bailed on brunch. Did you end up talking to anyone? You know, like Tristan maybe? Or Bash?

I grinned. Lunch with Holly was exactly what I needed today. Maybe she could help me figure out what to say to Bash, and I definitely needed more details about her new obsession with Tristan. I thought for sure that she’d go for Jax.

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