I close the door quietly and she looks up. Her face is all hurt.
How does an apology equate to hurt?
Desperate to know what the hell is going on in that mind of hers, I brave the storm and sit on the end of the bed. “Need to talk about it?”
“God, you just can’t take a hint, can you?”
I huff a laugh. “I promise it’s not what you think.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Talk to me, Lamont.”
“Not happening.”
“Then talk to Manuel. Take the couples therapy sessions for yourself.”
“And have it get back to Serelle that I’m a fucked-up mess? No thank you, I can handle myself.”
“The way you imploded over a simple apology would suggest otherwise.”
“Fuck you, Rawlins.”
I turn to face her as her eyes burn into mine. “If that’s what it takes.”
Her lips part, but a beat later, she shakes her head. With a breathy laugh, she says, “I’m not playing that game.”
I frown. “What game?”
“Where you have me fired for fucking you.”
This takes me aback. “That’s not?—”
She stands, closing the distance until she’s all but standing between my legs, looking down at me as she whispers, “I’d rather impale myself on Vinny.”
Who the fuck is Vinny?
Chapter 13
CARLIE
Day two and Rawlins is getting handsy.
“Stop manhandling me,” I snap, moving out of his space.
We stand in the middle of the lawn area by the pool. People lounge on long chairs, sipping drinks that look like cocktails. Why couldn’t that be on our itinerary?
“Sure, I’ll just let you fall and slam into the ground. I prefer that option, anyway,” he says, giving me a deadpan look.
“This exercise is about trust,” Manuel repeats his previous statement. “You fall, Mr. Lawson catches you, yes?”
“Trust is earned, Manuel, not given. I’d rather hit the ground.” I straighten my tank top and shake out my body like that will rid my skin of the ridiculous tingle that’s crept into every inch his hands came in contact with.
Rawlins runs a hand through his hair, flexing a bicep. “Fine, you catch me.”
“I’ll pass.”
He blows out an annoyed breath. “We won’t make any progress if you refuse to participate.”