Page 75 of Hot Shot

It’s the hottest thing anyone has ever said to me. I hate him for it. “And what? You intend to be that somebody?”

“I wasbornto be that somebody. You spent ten years with that fuck, turned yourself into everything you thought he wanted. You lost yourself because he didn’t wantyou.One of the many ways in which I amnothim.”

The warning thud of a kick drum reverberates in my belly, summoned by the audacity of his certainty. “You don’t know everything, Wilder. Or maybe you do. But I was with himten years.You and me? We were together when we wereliteralchildren. The version of me who loved Davis wasme,just like the one who loved you. Just like the person I am right now. Andright now I am hurt and exhausted and still processing a decade-long lie, a ten-year game.” I cannot cry. I will not cry. “You make it sound so simple when you reduce it to neat little points, but it’s not. Therightthing to do is ignore whatever is between us because your lifeandmine is sticky and complicated, and your child is involved. It doesn’t matter how we feel—you and me can’t happen. Because if one card falls, the whole thing comes down. The kick drum is banging, Wilder. Loud and clear. So I am asking you to respect that boundary. I ambeggingyou to cool it. I know you think you know what’s best for me, but if you don’t letmedecide, you’re just as bad as Davis.”

His face fell in increments as I laid it out. Now he’s quiet, still, somber, all challenge gone. In its place is apology.

“You’re right,” he says gently, glancing down. “I’m sorry, Cass. You’re right. I shouldn’t have pushed you like that. When you look at me like you do sometimes, when we’re out and your hand is in mine, when we kiss it feels like…” He shakes his head. “It feels like it used to. I figured you were just being cautious. But this isn’t the first time I’ve had to get checked—just because I’m ready for you doesn’t mean you’re ready for me. Despite my behavior, I really do want what you want. I’m sorry. Whatever you need, it’s yours.”

“Thank you,” I answer, my heart thundering.

“But promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“Let me know if you change your mind.”

I nod once and pick up my fork, though I’m not hungry anymore. I don’t want to deny myselfanything, least of all the comfort of someone so familiar, someone who I loved and loved me so deeply. But it’s my last defense, the only thing I have control over, and it’s paper thin at best.

So I hang on with both fists and hope to God I don’t let go.

There will be nothing left of me if I do.

CHAPTER 29

CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR

WILDER

Iam the world’s biggest asshole.

She redirects the conversation with such grace, you’d never know I just pushed her so hard, she slapped me with the gauntlet and spiked it when she was through.

How I keep forgetting she’s recently been through some shit is beyond me. Our circumstance keeps wiping my memory. Cohabitating with her comes too easy. For example, after dinner we move about the kitchen cleaning up, and it’s so natural. Like we’ve been doing it our whole lives.

But no, the truth is, I’m a dick who told her I wanted what she wanted and pushed for what I wanted instead. I’m the actual fucking worst, and I spend the rest of the night beating myself up.

She changes clothes and comes out of my bedroom in a pair of baggy sweats, a huge tee, and her hair piled in a nest on top of her head. And then she plops down on the couch next to me with a furry blanket that has to weigh twenty pounds. There’s barely room on the couch for me with the addition of that thing,but I have to admit, she’s cute as fuck all wrapped up in it. We watch TV like that all night. A couple hours in, she stretches out, shoving a throw pillow between us so her feet won’t touch me.

Because I’m a dickhead who makes assumptions. Because I’m the shitass who pressures her because I think I know better than she does. I’ve gotta wait. Give her space. For real this time.

She’ll come to me. I have faith.

A medical drama is playing out on screen, something she was watching before all this. I have no idea what’s really going on aside from it being clear all the doctors are either currently banging or have already banged all the other doctors. I forgot it was on streaming and not network until one of the couples gets into a fight and starts making out. Which gets very naked, very fast. A resident surgeon is sitting on a gurney panting, back arched and nipples pointed at the ceiling, his face between her thighs reverent and determined. My pulse ticks up, my cock responding while my imagination spins, until it’s me nestled between Cass’s thighs. Her fingers twisting in my hair while I fuck her with my mouth?—

I reach for the remote and turn the TV off. “Okay, that’s enough of that. Time for bed.”

She shoots up on one elbow, her mouth gaping in offense. “What the hell? It was just getting to the good part!”

“Cassidy, I will be good. I will cool it like you asked. But I draw the line at watching soft-core porn with you this close to me.”

She huffs, but sits up. “Oh, come on. I look like a troll. Zero percent fuckable.”

Now I’m mad, my brow furrowing. But I can see on her face she really doesn’t understand what she does to me. “I thought we established I’d fuck you with a mouth guard in and rollers in your hair. Quit brushing your teeth and roll around in dirt. Three days without a shower. Doesn’t matter. You think I don’t knowthe shape of your body because your clothes are baggy? I’d know every curve in the pitch fucking dark.”

She’s looking at me with wide eyes and parted lips.

I groan and stand up, adjusting my cock, which is caught awkwardly in my waistband thanks to the boner I’ve popped. “Quit looking at me like that.”

---