Page 53 of Reckless Temptation

And I didn’t know how to make her happy anymore. The hopelessness that consumed me renewed my fears that I was a coward for her, that I wasn’t strong enough to support her through depression when I lacked the understanding ofhowto help her.

“I wish you could appreciate that, Nick.” She flung her arm up, gesturing at the kitchen. “I wish you could appreciate that I found us a secure home. With money. After all those years we spent every penny on your dad’s treatments, you’ll never want for anything.”

I hated the tears that burned behind my lids.

She was wrong. She was so damn wrong.

I wanted my dad again. I wanted the close-knit sense of family that we had together. I wanted the peace of seeing her happy and knowing my dad could recognize when he needed to step in and get her the help she needed but denied.

I sure as hell wanted—no, needed—her to stop screwing around on George and threatening this future she wanted to scold me about.

My chance to ask her why she’d risk this slight stability here was gone. Without another heated word or angry scowl, my mom turned and left the kitchen. She left me there with this simmering frustration.

I wouldn’t want for anything?

That was a cruel lie that I didn’t want to accept.

I wanted to move on from Dad dying, and I wished I could find my path and know my fucking purpose and worth again. Life was a bleak existence of dark gloom.

Except with her.

Sabrina was the only exception to this twisting darkness. When I was near her and she challenged me to keep pushing and poking at her until I could get a rise out of her. When I was with herand taking her virginity, feeling her tight walls clamp on me and squeeze so I’d come so damn hard deep inside her.

When she stared at me, locking me with that soft brown gaze of hers, so soulful but wary, the darkness faded.

Sabrina pulled me out of the murky darkness. She jarred me and kept me in the present, in the moment, with her. That was how strong the draw was that magnetized me to her.

Stuck in these thoughts about my dad had me recalling how Sabrina had looked so damn happy with her parents at the food bank. How they laughed and smiled. Her hugs and relaxed attitude.

Jealousy had no place in this situation, but I couldn’t help it. I envied how she still had her family. It didn’t seem like she had much else, just her determination and family, but comparing those blessings with what I had was a cruel joke.

What do I have here?

No direction or purpose.

Hardly any love.

I felt more committed and saw more worth in spending time with the girl I was supposed to bully than with what remained of my family.

“Stop.” I muttered the command to myself as I closed my eyes and rubbed my brow.

I had to get Sabrina out of my head. I’d never forgive myself for caving to wanting her so badly, because now that I understood how addicting she was, how right it felt to be with her even when we butted heads, I saw no way to make it happen. There wasno way to ensure anything lasting with Sabrina when Tiffany expected me to ruin her.

How long can I stand this?

The tension of being pulled in two different directions would wear on me.

As if on cue, Tiffany entered the kitchen, smirking at me. The universe was playing some shitty jokes on me for her to come bother me now. And that was all she had on her mind. That narrowed-eye gaze meant she was on the warpath to be calculating and manipulative.

Like always.

“I’m not in the mood,” I warned her, grabbing a water bottle to get out of there and escape to the pool.

“Oh? You’re not?” She crossed her arms and lifted her chin, defiant.

“No. I’m really fucking not.”

“I think you should be in the mood to hear me out, Nick.” She set her hand on the island counter and leaned in to glare at me. “I’m getting impatient. I don’t think you have any true intention to ruin her.”

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