Page 33 of Forbidden Hearts
She lets out a long sigh. “This is the time in our life to make them. You’re going to finish grad school and then have to do how many years as an intern where you’ll work nonstop? If he wants you and you want him, I don’t see a problem. Your dad doesn’t need to know who you hook up with. If you and Asher lay out the ground rules, then Olivia isn’t an issue either because, again, it’s not like you have totellher.”
As much as Ireallydon’t want to think about any of this and wish I could unhear it, I can’t. The way he touched me, said my name, and ugh, the heat of his body is all my mind keeps going back to.
I am supposed to dislike this man and all I can think about is him pushing me against a wall and making me scream his name.
“Thank you for the horrible advice, but I will not be doing any of that, as I need this job and don’t need to complicate my life any further.”
“I’m glad you have a plan.”
“I do.”
“And it’s solid.”
“It is,” I say back.
“And you don’t want him that way.”
I hesitate and then force the words out. “I don’t.”
“And you’re a big fat liar.”
I groan. “I am, but I will not flirt or do anything stupid.”
* * *
I fix my hair, fluffing it a little, apply some lip gloss, check my face in the rearview, and then groan.What are you doing, Phoebe?
Getting dolled up is not how I am going to keep my promise of staying away from him. I grab a tissue, wipe away the gloss, and then toss my hair up in a messy bun. There, that’s better. I grab my duffle bag and head toward the house.
After pressing the four-digit code to the front door, I enter. There’s noise in the kitchen, which is probably Asher getting ready to leave.
“Hello?” I call out, not wanting to startle the man with a gun.
“In here,” he replies.
I head in to find him sitting at the table with a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast in front of him as he scrolls through something on his phone. “Hey,” he says.
“Hey.”
He doesn’t look up at me. “I made a lot of eggs.”
“Okay . . .”
“Grab some if that’s what you want.”
What I want is for him to look at me with your normal hatred so I can tell myself I was imagining whatever happened the other day.
“No thanks.”
“Suit yourself.”
Okay, being dismissive and barely talking is more like the asshole I know and can keep hating.
“What time does Olivia need to be up?”
“No idea.”
Still not looking at me.
