Page 130 of Time Stops With You

Suddenly, I hear footsteps coming down the hallway.

I sit up straight and look at the door again.

But the footsteps fade and keys jangle in the unit next to ours.

Big T is home. He’s been avoiding me since I called Cullen my fiancé. I’m not exactly mad at that. I just wish Cullen would show up when he said he would.

I miss him.

The thought is absolutely bonkers.

Lifting the pillow to my face, I groan loudly.

I do not miss Cullen. It’s just that if Cullen doesn’t show, I’ll have no chance to redeem myself for what happened between us.

Regret is biting me hard in the butt.

Just thinking about how I acted today…

I screech and throw myself facedown into the sofa, beating on the pillow and kicking my legs in horror.

I was a total blithering idiot.

The moment Cullen ordered me to wait in his office, I should have punched him in the nose, grabbed my brother and ran upstairs. At the very least, I shouldn’t have gone to that stupid office. Was that even an office?

It was decorated like a furniture store. White walls, computer table with not a hint of dust, air purifier sending tuffs of bacteria killing spray and fabric freshener, no frames on the walls, nothing but shiny floors.

It didn’t look like anyone had ever worked in there. Not a human anyway.

That uncanny office should have been my first clue to get the heck out of dodge.

But I stayed.

Iwaited.

And it only got worse from there.

Honestly, I won’t be able to sleep well until I fix this.

I need to hash it out with Cullen and have him apologize.

The way he grabbed my face, the way he made me feel fireworks, that was absolutely unacceptable.

Instructing me to say I hate him over and over until I moaned, that was diabolical.

And the way he sucked my mouth at the very end, disturbing.

I can still feel the tingle of Cullen’s kiss. Can still feel the indent of his desk digging into my back. Can still feel the swipe of his large hand over my stomach…

Heat engulfs me and I can’t tell if it’s from anger or something else. Something that can only be sated with more of him.

Shooting to my feet, I stomp to the bathroom, fill my hands with water and splash my face. The droplets slide down my chin and plop into the sink. Digging my fingers into the counter space around the faucet, I breathe in deeply.

Emotional regulation.

I can handle this like an adult. There’s no need to throw a tantrum.

For what?

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