Page 41 of L.O.V.E

“But it’s more than physical. There’s something about you I can’t shake. I feel like fate brought us together for some reason. And that’s why I tried to be friends.”

“I feel a ‘but’ coming on.” Chin tucked into her coat, she stared at my chest.

“I abhor cheaters.”

“So do I. What’s your point?”

I would burn in hell for saying so, but heaven help me, I needed to purge. Natalie deserved the truth. “I’m cheating on Victoria every time I close my eyes and see you instead of her. I’m cheating every time I wake up in the morning and wonder what you’re doing before I realize her side of the bed is empty.”

“Stop.” Liquid eyes met mine.

“I’m committing adultery every time I remember the taste of your lips or get fucking hard thinking about that kiss.”

“That’s not fair, Cole,” she whispered, shaking her head. “I didn’t know you were with anyone when I kissed you.”

“I’m being unfaithful every time I get jealous listening to Martin talk about you. How he loves falling asleep at your side, waking up with you. When he complains about being exhausted because the two of you were at it all night.”

“Stop, Cole.” Brows pinched, she stepped back, bumping into the shop window.

“You’re all I see, Natalie. Every time I close my fucking eyes. I need you to know I’m not just being an asshole when I shut you out. It’s just that… Fuck, this isn’t coming out right.”

“Oh, you’re on a roll. Don’t stop now.”

Christ. I needed her to understand.

“I can’t like you and I can’t ignore you, so I’m trying to hate you, Natalie King. Because hating you is still a feeling, and I’d rather have that than nothing.”

Natalie stared long and hard. Her tears were like acid, a slow IV drip straight into my chest. What a fucking disaster.

“Say something.”

With a nod, her eyes met mine. Then she swung, her designer bag hitting my shoulder. With her free hand, she struck my chest. Again with the bag, the strike aimed at my face. I dodged but didn’t counter. I deserved her wrath.

The little seductress exploded, her cheeks flaming, her finger poking at my sternum. “Fuck you. Fuck you and your dimples. Fuck you and your name. Fuck you for looking at me the way you do. For being everywhere all the fucking time. And fuck you for being in love with the devil.” She raised her chin, challenging. “Yes, I said it. Your fiancée is Satan’s spawn, and she’s going to drag you to the pits of hell. Have fun on that ride, by the way.”

Two angry strides announced her farewell until she stopped and turned. “I don’t know what line of bullshit Martin is feeding you, but that lying bastard has never stepped foot inside my apartment. We’ve never spent the night together. Hell, since we’re dropping confessions, Martin and I have never had sex. Which means, he’s probably getting his rocks off with someone other than me.”

Jesus. Fuck. What have I done?

She took another step back, another agonizing six inches between us. “Thank you for walking me home. Thanks for showing me what kind of man you are. Thank you for giving me a reason to dump your philandering friend.”

A warm breeze blew hair across her face, a mask. A shield. “Yeah. This is good. No more reason for us to hang out. Your conscience can be clear. This is me, bowing out gracefully.” She bent at the waist spreading her arms, mocking, then stood straight, an ice-cold fucking statue. “But know this, Cole Adams. We bump into each other again? I’ll be throwing all my hate right back at you.”

Natalie

“You dumped him?” Lacey whisper-yelled, her eyes going wide.

“Yes.”

“I don’t understand.” She leaned her hip against the counter, crossed her arms, and scowled. “Last week we were considering a couples trip to Aruba. You seemed happy.”

“There just wasn’t any spark.” I stuck my head in the fridge, pretending to search for something.

“What happened? Did he hurt you?” she asked my back, her breath blowing my hair.

The truth would upset Lacey, which in turn would upset Ellis, who no doubt would have a talk with Martin. And who knew where that would lead? They were best friends. I wouldn’t be the cause of a rift between those men.

I grabbed a bottle of ginger beer and turned to face my friend. “Lacey, I wanted to like him. I really did. I gave it a good shot. But like I said, there wasn’t any spark. Wasn’t fair to waste his time.”

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