Page 33 of Flame
“Why did you leave me?” I ask.
His smirk fades away.
“Is it because you were doing too much for me?” I ask, unable to keep the frustration out of my voice.
“No.”
“Was it because we almost kissed?”
“No.”
I cross my arms over my chest, my gaze unwavering. “Was it because you actually—probably accidentally—opened up to me the tiniest bit?”
“No, Bianca.”
I pause and wait for an explanation that, unsurprisingly, doesn’t come.
“This is the part where you elaborate,” I say, talking slowly as if I’m talking to a toddler. “This is where you set the record straight and explain yourself.”
“You really don’t know?”
I throw my hands up, almost smacking him in the face. He leans back just in time.
“No, I really don’t know. Do you think I’d keep asking if I knew?” I ask, realizing I’m trapped in the bend of the counter. I press my hands to his chest to guide him out of my way, only to realize that touching him is a very,verybad idea.
A shot of fire races through my veins as my eyes connect with his. I gasp, my lips part, as I watch him absorb the connection as forcefully as I do.
His irises burn so green that they’re nearly yellow.
He takes a half step toward me. I try to move a step back but am stopped by the stone countertop. He moves again, even closer—so close that the fabric of our clothes dust each other.
The air is filled with the woodiness of his cologne. My fingers dip into the cotton of his shirt, skimming his hard chest beneath it. He breathes shallowly but roughly, and every breath he takes causes my heart to strum faster.
My tongue swipes across my bottom lip. His attention drops to my mouth. He widens his stance, caging my feet in with his, before returning his gaze to my eyes.
“This.” He bends, gripping the counter with both hands.
I’m confined, fenced in by both his arms and legs. It’s heady and intoxicating—dangerous and foolish.
And I’m just dumb enough and brave enough to do something I know I’ll regret.
I wad his shirt in my hand and give it a gentle tug. His eyes sparkle as he’s jostled another inch closer.
My insides buzz—deliciously zinging from the close contact and proximity to the man I can’t stop thinking about.
“I didn’t leave because I almost kissed you.” His tone is rough and raw, scraping against my emotions. “I’ve stopped myself from kissing you every day I’ve been near you.” He licks his lips, his gaze dropping to mine. “It’s taken every ounce of control I can manage not to kiss you, fuck you, make love to you, and everything between for three years.”
“Foxx…”
My knees weaken. My stomach drops. The bottom of my belly burns with a need for him that scalds me.
“I left because I couldn’t stand by and watch another man get to have you,” he says.
I flinch. “What are you talking about?”
His eyes narrow, and his shoulders stiffen. “Quade Kellaway.”
“Renn’s old teammate from Australia?”
