Page 64 of Off-Limits as Puck

I pull back to look at her, both of us wrecked and wanting. “Feel it. For once in your controlled life, just feel it.”

Something breaks in her expression. She pulls me back down, and this time the kiss is different—desperate, yes, but also sad. Like goodbye.

We don’t make it to the bedroom. Can barely make it out of our remaining clothes. When I push into her right here against my kitchen wall, we both freeze, overwhelmed by the rightness of it. The completeness.

“Reed,” she breathes, and my name sounds like breaking.

“I know.” I press my forehead to hers. “I know.”

We move together frantically, desperately, like we can fuck away all the reasons this is impossible. Her nails rake down my back. My hands will leave bruises on her hips. We’re marking each other, claiming what we can’t keep.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” I demand, driving deeper. “Tell me this means nothing.”

“I can’t.” Tears stream down her face. “I can’t lie anymore.”

“Then don’t leave.”

“I have to.”

“Chelsea—”

“Please.” She pulls me closer, legs tightening. “Please just—don’t make this harder.”

But I can’t help it. Can’t stop the words that pour out betweenthrusts, between kisses, between heartbeats.

“You’re mine. You’ve been mine since Vegas. This thing between us—”

“Will destroy us both.” She’s close, I can feel it. “We both know it.”

“Maybe destruction is better than this. Better than pretending.”

She comes with a sob that sounds like grief, and I follow her over. We stay pressed together, shaking, the kitchen tile cold against our fevered skin.

Reality creeps in with our cooling sweat. She pushes at my chest gently, and I step back, watching her rebuild her walls with her clothes.

“This was goodbye,” she says quietly, not meeting my eyes.

“Doesn’t have to be.”

“Yes, it does.” She finds her blazer, slips it on over bare skin because her shirt is somewhere, destroyed. “Your new therapist will contact you about scheduling.”

“Chelsea—”

“Don’t.” She finally looks at me, and her eyes are empty. “Don’t make this mean more than it was. Just... let me go.”

“I did that once. In Vegas. Look where it got us.”

“It got me a career. A life. Stability.”

“It got you Jake. Schedules. A father who controls you.”

“At least those things don’t require me to choose between my heart and my future.”

“Your heart?” I step toward her, but she backs away. “Is that what I am?”

“You’re a complication I can’t afford.” She grabs her purse, heads for the door. “Take care of yourself, Reed. Try not topunch anyone else.”

“Chelsea, wait—”

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