Page 87 of Inflame

“About just how much Ethan Maxwell is worth.”

I have heard enough of his nonsense. I slide off the bar stool and take a step closer to Nic. Leaning into his body, I look straight into his eyes. I want to say something snarky. I want to say something smart. But instead, I clear my throat, grab the watered-down pitcher of margaritas, and empty the contents right onto the crotch of his pants.

“Maybe that will cool you off.” I watch as realization hits his face as I’m sure the temperature of his body is lowering. Good. “And whatever delusions are spinning around inside your head about getting into my pants? Erase them. Because that will never happen.”

With a newfound confidence, I throw back my hair and do what I should have done from the beginning of this train wreck. I walk away.

Heading out of the bar, I wave to the bartender and take a few deep breaths. When I am in Nic’s proximity, I can’t think. It’s like my brain stops working.

I need to get back up to the room I’m supposed to share with Ethan. I don’t feel comfortable going back to the suite until I can get my emotions in check. I don’t need Angie feeling bad about anything this trip. She always bears the weight of everyone she cares about on her shoulders. I’ll be damned if my bad decisions trickle into her celebration.

The most I have even used the bed in Ethan’s room since he booked it has been the little bit of time I was lying there in lingerie while Nic watched from the corner. I feel dirty. There is just no point hanging around Nic and listening to his negativity. He hasn’t even been around Ethan for twenty-four hours and already everything is jacked up.

I hit the call button for the elevator, tapping my foot to the music being played through the sound system. When the doors open, several groups of people exit, allowing me to enter the empty car. I push the button for the floor I need and wait for the doors to close. Just as they start to move, a hand pops through, stopping them.

I look over and see Nic. The wet stain on the front half of his pants is undeniable. He can’t even cover it up if he tries. Walking into the car, he takes one glance at the number panel, then continues to move closer to me.

Once the elevator doors close, the air seems thicker. It is like the ten by ten car is way too confining for the two of us. Hell, his body alone takes up the majority of the space. His shirt is pulled tight against the defined muscles of his chest. He stands with confidence, towering over my small frame. It feels like I could suffocate.

My words stop in my throat and can’t escape. I have nothing to say to him.

“Silent treatment?” he asks, moving infinitesimally closer to me with each floor we pass. “Challenge accepted.”

I push my spine into the posterior wall, pressing myself flat against the smooth surface. My eyes close as I try to ignore how amazing he smells. How he makes me feel so desired. So wanted. He makes me feel like a woman.

I feel his breath on my lips without even having to look. He is leaning down, shadowing me. Waiting for me to open my eyes and accept him.

“Stop,” I mouth.

“Stop what?”

“Stop making me want you.”

“I’m not going to touch you until you beg me for it.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” I whisper. “Find a hobby. Take up a trade. Enroll in an online class. Do something—anything—with your spare time. But leave me alone.”

His low chuckle causes me to stir. I fidget against the wall. Even the smallest movement causes me to brush up against him. It is like static electricity. We may be just sizzling now, but I can already foresee combustion later. Someone like Nic Hoffman could cause irreparable damage to someone like me. He plays by a different set of rules. Unfair and underhanded.

When I hear the ding indicating that the car has come to a stop, my eyes snap open. I come face-to-face with the man who has singlehandedly caused what I thought was a solid relationship to turn to dust. I push past him and walk out into the hallway. When I feel him hovering in my wake, I turn so fast that it makes my own head spin.

“Why are you following me?” I demand.

He looks at me innocently. “This is my floor.”

Oh. Fuck. I look at the room numbers and see that I missed my own floor. I stomp past him, smack the call button for the elevator and wait impatiently for it to arrive again. I swear this man who can’t seem to remove the smirk off his face makes my brain turn to mush. I am completely incompetent when he is within a five-yard radius of me.

When the car arrives again, I get inside and select the correct floor. Staring at Nic from a distance as the doors shut, I raise my middle finger as a salute to him.

My keycard easily opens up Ethan’s room when I make my way there.

“You could knock!” he snaps out.

My steps halt, tears welling up in my eyes. “I am staying here too.”Or so I thought. My voice is shaky with emotion. “Why are you being so cold to me? What did I do?”

“You embarrassed me.”

“I embarrassedyou? Are you even for real right now, Ethan? What the hell is happening to you?” I take a deep breath. “To us.”

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