Page 48 of Every Promise Broken

“Oh my god!” Jumping out of my seat, I walk to the other side of the room before turning to face him. “You’re ridiculous, you know that, right?” I laugh dryly, sounding maniacal to my own ears. “You act like a fucking caveman sometimes. ‘Oh, big man. Tell me. Bang, bang on my chest. Rawr.’You’re absurd!”

Conrad has the fucking nerve to laugh. Full on, head falling onto his shoulders, belly laugh. “I do not sound like that,” he mutters.

“Yes, you fucking do!”

“You know, I remember how much you used to get on my case about needing to communicate. To talk about how we were feeling. And now that I’m trying to do that, you want to shut me out?”

“Are you kidding me?” My hands rip through my hair, tugging on the strands, as I try to make sense of this situation. “It’s too late to talk now, Conrad!”

He stays unmoving on the edge of that desk, arms crossed over his chest. His brow arches, and it’s the only sign he actually heard me. “Is it?”

My brows pinch, heart thumping. “W-what?”

“Is it really too late, Whit? Or do you just prefer it that way?”

The question trips me up, and I can’t reply for a moment. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You answer me first, Whit.” Sliding off the edge of the desk, his legs carry him in long, purposeful strides until he’s standing directly in front of me. So close I have to look up to meet his gaze. “Quit playing games with me. Quit answering my question with another question. Just answer. The. Damn. Question.”

Clenching my jaw so hard it aches, I drag in a deep breath through my nose. “Fine,” I huff out. “You want to know why I didn’t tell you that I broke up with Reggie? It’s because I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea. I didn’t want you to think I did it for you.”

Face stoic, Conrad watches me. “Didn’t want me to get the wrong idea?” he asks. “Or you?”

My face screws up. “Why would it be me?”

“You tell me.” Conrad takes another step forward, forcing me to take one of my own backward. “You seem to forget who came onto who that night.”

He doesn’t need to clarify which night he’s referring to. It hangs between us like a neon sign. Goosebumps bloom all over my flesh, and it’s got nothing to do with the chill in the air.

“I wasn’t thinking clearly,” I grit out.

“Seemed pretty fucking clear to me.”

“You’ve always been terrible at seeing what’s right in front of your face, Connie.”

His nickname slides off my tongue before I can stop it and, of course, he notices. I don’t miss the heat in his eyes or the quiet rumble coming from his chest. I also don’t miss the way he takes another step, forcing my back against the barn wall.

Leaning in, Conrad brings his lips right beside my ear. “That was then,” he whispers, his hot breath fanning my neck in a way that has my toes curling. “I see things much clearer now.”

My voice gets lost in my throat. Actually, no, it’s smothered by my heart that’s lept up in there, beating violently. He’s so close.So. Close.Coming out here was a mistake. Nothing good isgoing to come of this, not with the way he’s towering over me like a lion about to feast on its prey. He’s hungry and on a mission, and I’m defenseless against him. I’m weak compared to him. A scared little gazelle.

“Want to know what I think?” he asks, his throaty, gruff voice sending another shiver down my spine that lands right between my legs. “I think you kept it from me as an attempt to protect yourself from what you want.” I suck in a sharp gulp of air as I feel his scratchy face brush up against my cheek. “I think you hate how much you enjoyed our night together. I think it made you realize just how much you still care about me, and I think that fucking terrifies you.”

Biting down on my tongue to keep from saying anything, I hate how right he is. How easily he reads me.

“How’d I do?” I can hear the smirk in his tone. “Was I close?”

“No.”

Conrad clicks his tongue. “You’ve never been a good liar, Whit. I hit the nail on the head, didn’t I?”

Huffing out a breath, I turn my head until we’re face to face. “You didn’t hit shit except maybe your own damn head if you think you’re right.”

“Oh, kitten…” Bringing his hand up, he gently—so fucking gently—brushes his thumb across my cheekbone. “IknowI’m right.”

His brazen confidence shouldn’t be a turn-on; it shouldn’t set off flames inside my veins, but it does. My nipples harden under my shirt, every inch of skin feeling electrified as I try to fight it.

“He didn’t deserve it,” I finally murmur, eyes cast down, unable to look at him.

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