Page 151 of By His Play

Not here.

He’ll see it on me the moment he looks at me.

Wait until you’re back in your apartment in Chicago, and then you can shatter alone.

Sucking in a series of deep breaths, I try to regain control of my breathing, but it’s shot to shit when he suddenly knocks on the door.

“Effie, are you okay?” he calls, making my heart jump into my throat.

Summoning as much strength as I can, I drop my hands and call out.

“Yeah.”

“What would you like for breakfast?” I want to say his voice is deeper than usual, but I’m pretty sure I’m just trying to convince myself that he might be as affected by this as I am.

It’s unlikely. Highly unlikely. Kieran has sex without emotions or connection almost every night of the week.

To him, the last few days have likely just been an extended one-night stand.

But it wasn’t. He said it himself that it was different with you.

“I’m okay, thank you,” I call back, hoping like hell he can’t hear the anguish in my voice.

“Yeah, that’s not happening, Effie,” he warns, and damn it if his tone doesn’t send goosebumps skittering across my skin.

“Just order me something. You know what I like,” I snap back, a little harsher than I intended.

“Okay, yeah. Effie, are you…” His voice trails off, and I hold my breath as I wait to see if he’s going to continue. “I’ll tell them thirty minutes, okay?”

“Sure. Great. I’ll be there,” I say, wishing there was a way for me not to be.

The last thing I want to do is sit across the table from him like we did last night, pretending that everything is okay.

I can’t see him, but something tells me that he lingers at the door.

Attempting to shake thoughts of him from my head, I unbutton his shirt and shrug it off.

I’m about to drop it to the floor when a waft of his scent hits me, and before I know what I’m doing, I lift the fabric to my face, inhaling a potent shot of him.

Just one last taste before I let him go.

With my foundations crumbling faster by the second, I let the shirt drop to the floor and spin away, stepping under the hot spray.

Not content with the warm water, I turn it up until it’s scalding me.

I stand there for as long as I dare before getting out and wrapping a towel around both my body and my head.

I wash my face, take my contacts out, and replace them with my glasses before blow-drying my hair.

I’m stalling. I know that. Hell, Kieran probably knows that too, but I’m powerless to do anything else.

In the end, I waste so much time that Kieran has to call to tell me that the food is here.

With my stomach in knots and my heart in tatters, I walk out to discover a table full of food.

He glances up at me, his expression dropping at the sight.

He wants to fix things; I can see it in his eyes.

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