Page 56 of The Shadows We Keep

I turn my back on him, hooking my duffle from the floor and dropping it to the bed. I rip his shirt over my head and throw it at his feet. His heat engulfs my bare back. A rough grip at my waist halts my digging through the bag for something to put on.

His chest heaves a deep sigh as his nose nuzzles my neck. It’s gentle and throws me off my game. I can’t keep up my safety wall, erected from my anger when his gentle side shows.

“What are you doing?” he whispers in my ear, a faint hint of sadness draws through.

“Tell me why.”

“Will it really change anything?” he asks.

“Won’t know until you tell me.”

His fingers dance across my skin in opposite directions, pulling my focus when one traces under my breast, the other skates too close to the apex of my thighs. My ass involuntarily thrusts back into him.

I whip around in his embrace, pushing forcefully against his chest. He staggers back, catching himself against the dresser. “You can’t distract me with sex, Harkin.”

His head drops and both hands grip the roots of his dark locks, pulling hard showcasing budding dread. Whatever the truth is, he’s far from wanting to tell me, but I’ve pushed too far to let this go now. I realize then, with his heat gone, that I’m still naked, waiting for him to decide.

Quickly pulling on a shirt and shorts, I plop onto the mattress, pulling my legs under me, patiently waiting for him to break. Seconds blur into minutes. My patience is wearing thin when his eyes finally lift to mine.

The pain I see in them stabs at my heart.

I’m screwed.

TWENTY-THREE

HARKIN

Do you really want to hurt me – Nessa Barrett

The scenarios running through my head all end the same: I tell her the truth, she freaks out. What girl wants to be compared to your dead girlfriend? A lie only lends to her sniffing out the truth eventually and delaying the fight.

My hands tighten around my thighs, digging in against the skin, grounding me when my eyes lift and meet her expectant ones. There’s no way out of this. She wants an answer.

“This is it Harkin, I’m serious.” Her tone means it, too.

“I know.” I let out a frustrated groan. Nothing with her has been easy. The sexual tension between us is undeniable. It builds anytime we’re in the same room. But the secrets between us have been building, and it’s now or never. I can’t imagine letting her walk out the door and never seeing her again.

If she thinks those files are bad, pushing me away now, building a wall, and cutting me off from her, will make it so much worse.

I clear my throat. “That first day we ran in to each other outside, I recognized you.”

Her eyebrows scrunch in confusion.

“But I’d never met you?” She says hesitantly.

“Or, I, you, but you looked so familiar. I thought it was just a coincidence, but…” I trail off, not sure how to round this corner. “You look just like her. I couldn’t wrap my head around it.”

“Look like who?” she asks.

“Like Alina.” I’m so far in my head. The swift draw of breath she takes pulls me back.

“What?” she whispers.

Her eyes glisten, tears on the brink of falling down her red tinted cheeks. I didn’t expect that. Anger—yes, hurt—probable. But sadness? Now that one’s throwing me off.

Shuffling closer, I sink on to the mattress beside her and draw her over into my lap. Her eyes refuse to meet my gaze, but that’s unacceptable in this situation.

“You asked for this, but I’ll stop if you say so.”

---