Page 56 of Frozen Flames

If Audrey wasn’t on the phone, she’d for sure hear me.

Claire laughs lightly, and it’s fairylike. This woman seems like she’s from another world with the way she makes me feel.

“It’s okay.” She clears her throat, playing with her fingertips. “You should work things out with Gemma.”

I transfer to my wheelchair, then wheel closer to her, taking her hand, but she shakes her head. “If you don’t want this the way I thought you might, we can’t do this.” She palms my cheek, and it’s one of the most erotic things I’ve ever experienced.

It’s intimacy in its purest, rarest form.

It’s feelings and lust and pain all melded into a single touch.

“Claire…” My words are useless as she’s already walking toward the hallway, no doubt to fetch her sister.

When they come back out, they gather their coats, and I’m surprised Audrey doesn’t ask why they’re leaving in such a hurry until she tells her sister, “I told you this would happen.”

Claire simply bites her lip, shaking her head. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she tells me. “Good night, Harvey.”

And they’re gone.

And I feel like absolute shit.

And I can’t stop thinking about that kiss.

It was everything a man could hope to feel when he kisses a woman.

Fuck.

What have I done? I’ll manage to break two women’s hearts in one night.

Way to go, loser.

I barely have enough time to gather my wits before Gemma comes home from work that night. She goes through her usual routine while I wait for her in the kitchen to offer her food. It’s the least I can do before ruining our relationship.

My entire upper body feels like it’s burning, on fire. It’s as if an impending doom is approaching and I’m the one who’s about to deliver it.

Once she’s in the kitchen, wearing nothing but a long T-shirt, I wonder for a split second if her boss has seen her in the same attire. The thought makes my jaw tick until I remember what I did and what I’m about to tell her.

“Oh, you ordered pizza…” Her voice falters, and I wonder why.

Is she asking herself the same questions I’m asking myself, except regarding Claire? She doesn’t seem to have a problem with her though.

“Claire left… I wasn’t sure if you were working late or not.” I push the plate closer to her on the kitchen island. “Take it.”

She must be hungry because she devours a slice of pizza before sipping from a can of Mountain Dew.

“How was your day?” I ask her.

I’m surprised when her answer is to ask me what’s wrong.

Am I that easy to read?

I swallow at her question, looking away, and it doesn’t take long for her to abandon the kitchen island and walk over to my wheelchair, kneeling in front of it.

She takes my hand in hers, yet I feel nothing but scorching heat from it instead. “What’s wrong, Harv?”

I can’t look at her, not as I’m about to break her fucking heart.

I wipe my sweaty hands on my charcoal pants. “We kissed…Claire and I.”

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