He’s just as angry now.
Just as tormented.
“You want honesty, Celeste?” he snaps in a whisper. “I can’t stay away from you. That’s why I’m here. Do I want to be? Fuck no. I’ve begged myself for weeks to stop, and yet, here I am.
“You drive me insane by merely breathing. Every time you look at me, all I can think about is pinning you beneath me again. Finally tasting your mouth. Tasting every inch of you. Driving my cock into you so deep you see stars. And the whole time, Celeste, the whole goddamn time, all I want is to watch those beautiful fucking eyes fall apart while I do it.”
My breath stalls in my chest as blood rushes hot beneath my skin. Anger, desire, and shock all wage war inside me.
How dare he?
Weeks—months, even—I’ve spent fighting every unwanted feeling sparked by that single night at the club. Months spent meticulously fortifying emotional barriers only for Julian to stroll through and kick up hisfeet, just to shatter every effort I’ve made.
I shove both palms hard against his chest, forcing space between us even though every nerve ending in my body protests. “Fuck you, Julian. How’s that for honesty?”
A wicked smile curves his lips. “Oh, sweetheart, I really wish you would.”
I storm past him, breaking from the shadowed doorway, lungs heaving as I take off running again. Anger propels me forward, every footfall slamming into the pavement beneath me.
For a fleeting moment, I think maybe he won’t follow me. Maybe he’ll finally give me space, let me go back to the quiet existence I had before he crashed into my life like a hurricane.
No such luck.
Seconds later, the familiar rhythm of his footfalls echoes behind me. My heart pounds harder, frustration and something dangerously close to desire mingling in a toxic cocktail that only fuels my pace.
God, I want to scream. I want to lash out, to slap him, kiss him, to sink to my knees and beg him to make good on every filthy promise he just made.
Quickening my steps, I push harder until my muscles are burning. I fly past my favorite coffee shop—the one place that provides a brief morning reprieve with an oat milk latte I always crave. Now Julian’s ruining that, too. He’s taking even the small routines from me, invading every inch of my carefully structured life.
I don’t even slow down when I reach my building, not bothering to turn around to retrieve the other earbud. He can keep it.
A shower doesn’t help. Hot water pounds my skinbut does nothing to wash away my anger or the simmering ache he’s left behind.
I’m still fuming when I step out of the elevator at work. Barely able to greet the people I pass, I storm into my office only to freeze in place.
Sitting on my desk with condensation beading along the sides is a fresh oat milk latte from my favorite coffee shop.
Twenty-Five
I don’t know why I’m surprised he’s standing there again this morning like a sinister fucking shadow.
After yesterday’s argument, I thought maybe he finally had his fill of me, that he would find someone else to antagonize at dawn.
Nope.
Anger radiates off him in waves, a perfect mirror to the fury simmering beneath my own skin. My body aches, tired from a night spent staring at my ceiling, replaying his words from yesterday over and over.
He watches me approach with arms crossed over his chest, but there’s a dangerous gleam in his eyes today that wasn’t there yesterday, and it makes my pulse spike.
I slow when I notice the passenger-side door of his SUV hanging open. “What exactly do you think you’re doing?”
“We’re doing something different today,” he replies coolly.
“I’m not.I’m running.”
“You’ll still get your workout.”
“Yes,” I snap back. “By running.”