Page 88 of The Forbidden
I clear my throat and slip my arm from around her. Her face falls, and I really fucking hate the look on her expression right now. “That’s your phone.” I say, noticing mine is silent on the nightstand. Swinging my legs over the side of bed, I grab some sweatpants, quickly tugging them on before she catches sight of my erection.
“It’s in my purse. In the kitchen,” she murmurs, her voice small.
I glance over my shoulder, watching as she covers her body with my shirt and walks out of the bedroom. The sight of her like that, in my shirt, bare legs on display, makes me want to throw her over my shoulder, drag her back to bed and never let her go.
Groaning, I run a palm down my face. I don’t know when it happened. When things changed. When I let lines blur. But I did. I lost sight of what we were and allowed things to develop into something I’m not entirely comfortable with.
“Fuck,” I curse under my breath, freezing when I hear Anais’s voice from the other room.
“I stayed at Lana’s, Harrison,” she says wearily. A pause. Then she speaks again. “Yes, I’m fine, just tired.” Another pause. “Okay. I’ll see you at Mom and Dad’s tonight, for dinner.” Soft footsteps echo against the tiles before she reappears in the doorway, wearing an unsure smile. “That was my brother,” she tells me, wincing.
I already knew it was Harrison, but hearing his name still makes me cringe.
Clearing my throat, I cross my arms over my bare chest. “You should go. I’ve got some business to take care of.”
Her smile vanishes, her lips forming a tight line. She regards me for a long moment. I’m not sure what she finds, but she sighs, then steps into the room. “Yeah.”
She doesn’t argue. Just accepts my dismissal.
She should be used to my behavior by now. I’ve been consistent. It’s not like I gave her false hope. Sure, I sent her flowers and even kept some of the bouquet for myself, just so I could watch for when they wilted, and make sure I sent her a fresh bunch to brighten her apartment. But I never took her out for dinner, never promised more. An ache radiates through my chest, my heart pounding erratically as if begging me to admit the truth of my feelings. I shove it down, clearing my throat.
“I’ll call down to my driver. He’ll take you.”
She glances up at me, shaking her head. “It’s fine. I’ll order an Uber.”
My jaw tightens at her stubbornness. And even more when I watch her reach for that offensive dress from last night. No fucking way in hell is she walking around in that.
Stalking to my closet, I pull out some sweatpants and toss them to her. They’ll be way too big, but anything is better thanthat obscene scrap of material. Surely it violates every fucking public decency law to exist?
“Put them on,” I demand.
She glares, fire igniting in her lilac eyes. “How do you go from being so sweet, to such an asshole?”
I scoff. “I’ve always been an asshole, Brat. Don’t get it twisted.”
She glowers, the corner of her lip curling into a snarl. “How could I forget.”
My eyes narrow, but I don’t engage. That’s what she wants. A reaction. An argument. “I’ll tell Philip you’ll be ten minutes.”
I grab my phone, and send him a message.
“How gracious of you,” she mocks. I glance up just as she rolls her eyes. My teeth grind together. Don’t react. Don’t you dare fucking react… She pulls on the sweats, rolling them at the waist, then shoots me a look of disdain. “Is this how you treat all your women or just me?” Her voice pitches. “Fuck them then show them the door?” she laughs, the sound humorless. “God, you’re such a fucking cliché.”
“Watch it,” I warn.
Her head tilts as she studies me. She shakes her head as a look of resignation covers her expression. “I thought maybe we could grab lunch,” she murmurs, so low I almost miss it. “You know, like normal people.”
I tense, motioning between us. My jaw pulses with pent up anger. Not at her, but myself. “We arenotnormal, Anais. Don’t forget what this is.”
Her eyes squeeze shut as if she can ward off my words. When they open again, defiance flickers to life in those lilacs. “I’ll see you on Monday.”
And then she walks out, with a head held high and sweatpants too big.
I stare at the door long after she leaves.
And for the first time in my life, I realize I’ve gotten myself into a situation I don’t know how to get out of.
Chapter 38
