Page 45 of Good Girl's Bad Lessons

He propped himself to contemplate her and intensified his rhythm when she began trembling under him. In slow motion, he regarded the delicate contours of her face, the pink staining her cheeks. He wanted to record her moans, to bottle her scent, to die with the memory of her tattooed on his brain.

Because he loved her.

As he withdrew then thrust deep into her one last time, the truth unraveled. Sweat slicked his forehead, and his heart thumped with each breath.

I love her…so I have to let her go.

Chapter Fifteen

Emma slung one leg over the other and scooted out of bed. She didn’t want to—a tingle still hummed between her legs. The smell of sex and male cologne filled the air. She glanced at him—he lay on the bed, hands behind his head and eyes on the ceiling.

She scavenger-hunted for her clothes on the floor, picking them up and getting dressed. She didn’t need to bolt out of bed, but she wanted to talk to him, and with clothes on it was easier. Even though it’d physically hurt to screw him again should he want to, just the thought of it puckered her nipples and added a layer of moisture between her folds.

Maybe later, after they talked it out. First, she needed to know if he was still the same guy from before—if those glimpses he’d shown her were human glitches, or if he’d be willing to change their dynamics. To be more open-minded about a possible future together.

She rubbed her hands in a soundless clap then threaded her fingers. Her stomach knotted, apprehension causing a nauseating sensation to float up her throat. Still, she needed to talk to him. She swallowed the lump of fear and blurted, “Nico, I want to ask you something.”

He uncrossed his hands from behind his head and propped himself to a sitting position on the bed. She glanced at his naked body, and he pulled up the sheet to his waist, maybe thinking the same thing she did—no clothes equaled no real conversation.

She licked her lips. “As you know, Zaine’s wedding is coming up, and I know you’ll be his best man. I was wondering, if—”

The muscle in his jaw flicked. “You should go with Simon.”

She clapped her hand to her heart, confused. Acid leaked into her stomach, unsettling her. “Did you hear the conversation?”

He rubbed his forehead and peered at her with dark eyes. The hesitation she expected to see in them—the one she’d seen before—was nowhere to be found. “I know he wants to take you. Wasn’t that what you wanted? To go back to him?”

“Yes, but…” She pressed her palm into her chest to will those crazy beats away. Sweat slicked her palms, and a veneer of fear cloaked her. This isn’t going well. “Things change. I mean, do you want me to go with him? After all we’ve done together, you don’t want to be my date?”

“So we can have a hard time explaining to your brother, then when he finally gets it, guess what? We’ll be over. And we’ll both hear I-told-you-sos. Is that what you want?”

Moisture evaporated from her throat. What kind of bullshit excuse was that? Who cared about what Zaine thought? “Is that how you see it happening? I mean, there isn’t any other possibility for us?”

He thrust his fingers into his hair. “I’m sorry, Emma.”

Tears fell from her eyes, and she hated herself for crying. She wished she were like one of his more sophisticated, sex-club-going partners. But now…she was plain Emma, the girl with silly old-fashioned dreams like marriage and kids. The girl who’d never be enough for someone like him.

“I’m sorry too.” Her voice wavered.

He scrambled out of bed, still naked, and walked up to her. His facial features softened a bit, and she recognized some of the agony she’d witnessed when Desmorais had told him the truth.

She remained still, even if the room seemed to spin around her, the overwhelming thoughts in her head giving her an instant migraine. She took a good look at the man standing a few feet from her, with arms awkwardly falling to his sides, so different than his usual cocky, perfect posture. “Tell me,” she said, her voice above a whisper.

Tell me I haven’t been a complete idiot by falling for you.

Tell me there’s a chance for us.

She fought the urge to make an even bigger idiot of herself and declare her love for him. Giving him that responsibility to answer back wasn’t fair, especially since a strange energy oozed from him.

She swallowed hard. The area behind her knee seared, her feet stinging, the silent demand of her body to take a couple of steps to erase the distance between them and go to him.

No. If she moved toward him, she’d launch herself into his arms and forget everything. Now she needed to remember. More tears streamed down her face, and she didn’t bother to wipe them off.

“Goodbye, Emma.”

She sobbed. “You can’t mean that. Isn’t anything we lived in the past weeks different than what you usually do?”

“Yes. It was very different. It’s just, I’m not different. Sorry.”

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