Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Valentina
How to Be His Good Girl and Not Regret It
It’s not until I close the door to my bedroom that reality slams into me.
What the fuck did I let him do to me?
This isn’t me. I swear this isn’t me. I’m not some blushing virgin who gets swept away by a man’s touch. I’ve been married, divorced, and through every heartbreak in between. But nothing—nothing—prepared me for Kaden Crawford.
I never let a man fuck me in the kitchen. Never let a man talk to me the way he did, with that deep, rough voice that had me forgetting my own name. Every time he called me his good girl, logic demanded I tell him I’m a grown woman, not some na?ve little girl hanging on his every word.
But the rest of me?
The rest of me was a puddle at his feet.
I wanted to be his good girl.
No, it’s worse than that.
I want to be his good girl.
And that want? It’s consuming. It’s raw and dirty and all the things I shouldn’t be craving. At this point, I’m pretty damn sure I’d let him do anything to me—anything—as long as he fucked me with that cock of his.
God, the thought alone sends a fresh wave of heat spiraling through me, making my thighs clench. The way he looked at me, touched me, like I was his and only his—it’s maddening. I want him so much it hurts.
But it’s not just the lust.
That’s what terrifies me.
Because every time he smirks at me, every time he teases me, or shows me a glimpse of the man beneath that gruff exterior, I feel something stir in my chest. Something warm, dangerous, and completely unwelcome.
It’s not just my body he’s messing with; it’s my heart.
And I know how that ends.
It ends in divorce papers and sleepless nights spent wondering why you weren’t enough. It ends in bitter text messages and carefully avoiding places you used to go together. It ends in pain.
I’ve been down that road, and I swore I’d never go back. Love isn’t worth the risk.
I don’t even know this man. It’s been what? A week maybe since we started working together? Okay, there are those two meet cutes in the coffee shop, but do they really count? I don’t know what to think right now.
The thing is that Kaden is illogical—well, the idea of him.
Every logical thought, every protest, disappears. It’s just him—his mouth, his hands, the way he knows exactly where to touch me, how to pull me apart with nothing more than a growled command and a wicked look. And that’s the craziest part: I barely know him. How can someone I’ve just met get under my skin like this? How can he make me feel like I’m his when we’re practically strangers?
The door creaks open, and Noelle steps in, leaning casually against the frame with a smirk that instantly makes me wary.
“So, the walk of shame, huh?” she teases, her tone light but her eyebrows raised in that way that tells me she’s already decided the narrative. “Is this rebound guy? Are you two doing it already?”
I sit up straighter, tugging at the oversized shirt I’m still wearing—his shirt, dammit. “We didn’t fuck,” I say flatly, my tone daring her to argue.
And it’s not a lie, technically. Sure, he gave me an orgasm—a very good orgasm. The kind that ruins you for anyone else. Honestly, probably the best I’ve had in the past decade, maybe ever. But actual fucking? Nope. Didn’t happen.
“Are you sure?” She plops onto the edge of the bed. “I’m not here to pimp you, but . . . You could use a rebound guy. There’s no deadline to move on, but it’s been almost two years since you separated and then divorce. After Kaden, you can move on to someone who’ll hang the stars for you.”
“I had someone,” I say quietly, the words slipping out before I can stop them. My fingers twist in the hem of the shirt. “But then he regretted it.”
Noelle’s expression softens, but she doesn’t let me off the hook. “Steve,” she says knowingly.
I nod. “Back when I was young and perky—and probably too naive—Steve loved me. At least, I thought he did.”
She shakes her head. “I thought he did too, but once I started dating Jacob, I realized Steve wasn’t all in,” she says.
“And you didn’t tell me because . . .” I prompt.
She shrugs, looking genuinely torn. “I wasn’t going to be the one to say, ‘Hey, I think you’re giving a hundred percent in that marriage, and he’s barely giving you thirty.’ What if I was wrong? What if things were different when it was just you two?”
Her words hit harder than I expect. I swallow past the lump in my throat, thinking about Kaden. About how different he is when he’s with his family. How he softens, how his sarcasm turns into something gentler. I remember the guy from the coffee shop. Sure, he was arrogant during trivia night, but the next time he was . . . sweet and so thoughtful.
“I get it,” I say finally, my voice quieter. “Because when you see someone like that—when they let you into their world, their real world—it feels like it’s worth it, right? Like maybe all the doubts and red flags don’t matter, because what you have with them is amazing.”
“Exactly,” Noelle says, nodding. “And, for what it’s worth, Val, I think you’re seeing the real Kaden. I saw the pictures from last night. I don’t think you’re a PR gig to him. He looks at you like . . .” She pauses, her lips curving into a soft smile. “Like you’re the one thing that makes all the noise in his life fade away.”
Her words leave me feeling off-balance, like I’m standing on the edge of something I’m not ready to face. I don’t want to think about what Kaden feels—or doesn’t feel. But deep down, I know she’s right.
“And that’s what scares me,” I admit. “Because I don’t want him to show that much of himself to the world. I don’t want everyone to see the Kaden I see. Yet, it is my job and I have to do it. How fucked up is that. It makes me selfish.”
Noelle smiles softly, reaching over to squeeze my hand. “That’s not selfish, Val. That’s human.”
I exhale a shaky breath, nodding even though the war inside my head rages on.
“Just don’t overthink it,” she adds, standing and brushing off her jeans. “And for the love of God, stop worrying about being perfect all the time. If you want him, go for it. If you don’t . . .fuck him once and move on.”
I groan, throwing a pillow at her as she leaves the room laughing.
The thing is, I do want him. I just don’t know if wanting him is enough.