CHAPTER 17 #4
The banging sounded again, and I forced myself to get up, pulling the sheet up and over Jamie. I grabbed my boxers, pulled them on as I made my way to the door.
I knew who it was, wasn’t sure what I would say to him, but I opened the door anyway.
Edge didn’t wait for an official invitation before he pushed past me.
“What do you want?” I asked, the heat I’d expected in my tone absent.
He glanced over at the bed, turned back. Edge exhaled, and I could see the concern drift away. Evidently, he hadn’t known she’d left. For a brief second, I felt a bit of sympathy for him.
It passed quickly, my frustration with him returning. I headed for the small coffeepot on the bathroom counter. I needed caffeine if I was going to deal with this now.
As I popped one coffee pod into the machine, I could feel Edge’s eyes on me. I was waiting for him to unleash, to somehow turn last night around and make it my fault.
“Look at me.” Edge’s words were laced with an emotion I couldn’t name.
When the coffee started to drip into the paper cup, I turned to face him, giving him my full attention.
“I was wrong,” he said quickly.
I was tempted to stick my fingers in my ears, clear them.
Only then did I look at him. Really look at him.
Edge was still wearing the clothes he’d had on last night. The jacket was gone, the top two buttons of his shirt open, his sleeves rolled up. He looked a little worse for wear.
When he didn’t say anything more, I turned back to the coffeemaker, stared at it.
Placing my palms on the counter, I tried to gather my thoughts.
There were so many things I wanted to say to this man, but I didn’t know where to start.
He deserved to hear from me exactly how he made me feel, the anger, the hurt, even the love.
But the words didn’t form; my brain scrambled from all the emotion.
Then all thought fled when his hands flattened against my back, sliding up and over my shoulders, kneading once, twice before he leaned in and pressed his lips to the back of my neck.
“I’m sorry, Cav. So fucking sorry.”
That seemed to be a theme today. Everyone apologizing. It should’ve been a sign. For the three of us to be so out of sync this early on, surely that was a sign that this wasn’t where we were supposed to be.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t believe that. Not even after hours of trying to convince myself that we’d gotten ahead of ourselves. That we were trying to make something out of nothing.
But it damn sure didn’t feel like nothing.
Edge released me, then took my arm, urging me to turn around. With a sigh, I did, looking into his eyes. They were bright, fierce.
“I fucked up, Cav. I know that.”
I didn’t tell him he was right. I didn’t have to. He had fucked up.
Royally.
Perhaps he thought I was trying to come up with an argument, because he leaned in, tilting my head back with a firm hand before his lips slid over mine.
For a second, I considered resisting him, but it was futile.
I didn’t want to. For so damn long, I’d wanted this man.
Not just his body, either. More. I’d always wanted more from Edge.
I knew if we gave in to it, the sex would be phenomenal.
We’d proven that. There was chemistry there, a connection we’d denied for a long damn time.
Edge moved in closer, pinning me against the counter as he held my head, controlled the kiss.
I kept my fingers curled around the edge of the counter, not willing to release it for fear I’d fall too far.
He kept me off-kilter, always had. I had the right to be pissed at him.
His need to be in control, to hold the reins, had come between us.
“Christ, Cav,” he muttered against my mouth, trying to get closer.
The torment I heard in his voice had me reaching for him then, jerking him closer, banding him tightly in my arms as the kiss ignited. We fed off one another, giving, taking, all the while trying to hold back.
Who knew where it would’ve gone if Jamie hadn’t cleared her throat from outside the door.
Edge instantly stilled, his hand still on my head, our breaths mingling as we tried to pull ourselves back from the brink.
“I’m gonna go,” she said softly.
Edge didn’t release me, but he did lift his head, his eyes meeting mine. “No,” he said, speaking to her. “I’ll go.”
I kept my mouth shut, not sure what to say to either of them.
“You don’t have to,” she said, her voice louder as she inched closer to the exit.
“Jamie,” I warned. “Don’t.”
Edge stepped back, giving me space to stand. I stared over at her. She was gearing up to flee, and I was torn. Tempted to let her, desperate to stop her.
I glanced at Edge, noticed his jaw bunching as he stood there, staring at her. He was pissed, probably furious at her for leaving him. I didn’t know exactly what had transpired between them after I left, but I could feel the tension. It intensified the longer we stood there, no one saying a word.
When she reached for the door this time, I touched Edge’s arm. He was about to say something, but he held it back. If Jamie needed to leave, then we would let her.
“Jamie?” Edge called out when she opened the door.
Her brown eyes were dark, tormented as she glanced back at the two of us.
“This isn’t over,” he noted.
She gave a curt nod but didn’t stick around to hear any more.
And when the door clicked shut behind her, I had to wonder if Edge was wrong about that.