10. 10
Harlow
My car barely made it to work today, but I’ve got a bigger problem.
As soon as I walk through the door, Killian is there, waiting for me. When we make eye contact, he grins so wide I can see his perfect teeth. Even the broken side of his mouth pulls tight. I’m sure it hurts, but he doesn’t show it.
It’s clear he’ll have an uneven smile permanently — but damn, it does something to me.
Because I like making Killian this happy. It’s always a drug to be somebody’s high.
Unfortunately, that’s unhealthy for both of us. It also means my mistake hasn’t been forgotten.
He wraps his arms around me like I’m already his. His body is warm and hard. Before I melt into the feel of a man holding me — something I miss — I slip free.
“Uh, hi,” I say with forced indifference, then brush past him.
I take a seat in the empty front room of the mansion, determined to start fresh.
Of course, he drops onto the couch beside me, close enough that our thighs touch. I move back swiftly, pivoting my knees toward his, creating some distance.
As professionally as I can, I prepare myself, sitting straighter and lifting my chin.
His brown eyes narrow immediately, their color darkening.
Obviously, he knows I’m not about to straddle his lap again, even though he looks...
so damn good. He’s put together more than usual.
Freshly shaved face, hair recently cut and styled, new shirt and pants, thick gold chain, and that expensive, intoxicating cologne.
This is all for me, and that only makes this harder.
“First,” I start, determined to stick to my plan. “I am sorry for how I behaved the other night. I am embarrassed. I never get that drunk. That is not who I am.”
“Yes, it is,” he says. “Don’t act like it was just alcohol.”
“It was and—”
“Quit being stupid. Your needy pussy rode my finger like it was grateful for any scrap.”
“Whoa!” I balk, and look around the room, as if walls can hear.
“Wait till she gets the real thing. She’ll beg me to move in.”
Suddenly, he moves closer. I lean back, but the monster doesn’t take it as a rejection. Instead, he takes it as an invitation to crawl on top of me.
Okay, he definitely got the wrong impression.
My palms press against his chest, trying desperately to push him off. The sofa creaks under our combined weight. He’s a cage of muscle, swallowing the sunset’s golden light streaming through the windows.
In a desperate plea, I beg him. “I’ll get fired. I need this job more than sex.”
“I won’t tell anyone,” he says against my cheek, leaving a trail of hot kisses. I turn my face as he goes for my mouth. Instead, he finds my neck, tasting me. He’s insatiable.
Damn. It feels so good.
“Killian!”
“Yeah, like that, baby. Scream my name till you break the fucking windows.”
God, those filthy words, coupled with his thick, wet tongue, ignites my desire deep inside. I clench down.
My body wants him.
My heart cannot survive him.
“Listen to me. Saturday was a mistake.”
“No, it wasn’t.” His hand slips down toward my waistband.
“We’re in the front room! Are you crazy?”
“Yes.”
Then he tugs at my scrub bottoms. They stay put, so he fumbles, trying to undo the tie blindly with one hand.
I push up on his chest. The cotton of his shirt under my palms is so soft compared to the hard muscle that’s overpowering me.
And although he’s being the awful man I knew he was, I can’t help but want his naked body touching mine.
Ugh, his scent. His power. Him. I whimper as I try not to look at him.
I steal a glance.
The ugly faces of his villain tattoos catch in the orange light, and God help me, they suit Killian. I hate to admit it, but every time I try to find something I dislike about him, I like him more. It’s all too much.
I can’t sleep with my patient.
I can’t fall for an addict.
No.
And just like that—
I cry.
It’s a reaction I didn’t expect, but it’s real and violent. My whole ribcage jerks as sobs tear from my throat.
He stops, abandoning my drawstring to look into my eyes, astonished.
“I need this job,” I say, my voice cracking. “Please stop.”
He doesn’t lift off me, but his rapture has stopped. Maybe he finally sees it was just alcohol.
Just then, the giant front door swings open. We look that way, and in the moment of surprise, I use it to pry myself free from underneath him.
I wipe the tears from my eyes and try to compose myself. My hands shake as I smooth my scrub top. I hate that I can still feel his mouth on my neck. I hate more that I loved it.
Killian sits back, kneeling on the couch, glaring as if I personally offended him by escaping.
A man and woman walk inside. I recognize his brother, River. His smile comes without a threat, and unlike Killian, he’s much shorter. His eyes are hazel and warmer, too. They don’t study me long. He has baby fat on his face, making his smile more boyish. I don’t recognize the woman, though.
“Hey!” River greets.
His smile falters when he looks from my wet eyes to Killian’s expression.
“Bad time?”
“No,” Killian says before I can answer.
He drags himself off the couch, gives me one last evil glare, then faces his guests.
Instantly, he freezes, and his back goes ramrod straight.
River puffs his chest, proud and cheerful. “Killian, I want you to meet my fiancée, Nina.”
She rushes forward with her hand extended.
“We meet at last.” She shakes his hand, stiff and awkward.
“Nina,” he says sharply, like the name cuts.
Her red lips are curved into a wide grin, but her eyes don’t match. Something’s off.
“Engaged,” Killian adds.
“Yeah,” says River. “You’ve been gone so long. I’ve been dying to tell you, but I wanted to introduce you first.”
“Wow. Uh, congratulations.” Killian hugs his brother.
“Thanks, man. We’re so goddamn happy it isn’t funny. We met at the country club.”
Killian nods, then side-eyes me. The look is weary, as if he’s struggling. Maybe watching his brother win at adulthood is triggering.
He reaches out for me in a way a man reaches for his girlfriend.
I nearly laugh at the absurdity.
After all, this is not happening. I keep telling him that. If he would just stop touching me. That’s the problem. My body responds to him so easily. He’s the only guy to make me orgasm in years, and it has to be my patient.
I need to tell his dad that I want my old job back. Yes. That’s what I’ll do. I have to. I made a mistake at a party, but those boundaries can’t be crossed at work. I’ll feel like a sham in nursing school.
I give a small wave to the couple. “Congratulations.”
River smiles warmly. “You’re still helping Killian? That’s great.” He looks at his brother with concern in his eyes. “I’ve been worried you left already.”
Killian folds his arms defensively. “I’m fine. She’s been keeping me sober.”
Oh, Lord.
I don’t react, letting him know his public flattery isn’t working on me.
Still, he grins, somehow knowing it got to me. I could strangle him.
And kiss that crooked smile.
“Let’s celebrate at Arias,” says River, and rubs his palms together in anticipation. “Do you like Italian, Harlow?”
I nod reluctantly, but at least we’ll be in public. I don’t know what to do, but being alone with Killian is clearly impossible. I can’t trust myself.
“We’ll meet you there,” River says.
I panic and speak too loudly. “Can’t we ride with you?”
River hesitates, but shakes his head. “No. We’re going in the opposite direction after dinner.”
“Oh,” I whisper.
And then they’re gone, back out the door.
Is Clark here? I wouldn’t know which room to find him in this huge house. Where’s my phone? I can call him. I need to—
I feel Killian next to me like a physical force.
Nervously, I peek up.
He speaks low, his tone more of a dare than a question.
“You’re not thinking about leaving me, are you?”
“Leaving you?” I echo, wondering if he just read my mind.
His jaw flexes. He doesn’t believe me.
“I slept with her,” he says.
I do a double-take. “You did?”
His expression is remorseful. “Mm-hm. At a party. The same night I was sliced up. Do you think my brother will forgive me?”
Oh. Apparently, he does have a conscience.
I entertain this shift in topic while subtly searching for my phone.
“I don’t know. Were they together then?”
“It was a week ago, so yeah. I don’t remember much. Just that she knew my name.”
I laugh in disbelief. “Shouldn’t people know each other’s names before sleeping together?”
“It’s hilarious how you judge me when you have no experience.”
“I do, too!”
“One guy with a small dick. Come on, Harlow.”
I gasp, frazzled.
“First of all, it wasn’t small! Yours is just— Wait, that isn’t the point. You should know someone’s name before you sleep with them!”
He lifts his chin and runs his knuckles along his jawline.
“Did your ex ever fuck your ass?”
“Killian!” I balk. “That’s none of your business.”
He bites his bottom lip, his eyes sparkling. He knows he got to me.
“I can’t believe your ex didn’t. I’d fuck every—”
I clap my hands together, silencing him. Besides, this is the same tactic Evan would use.
“You’re deflecting. You slept with your brother’s fiancée, and you’re changing the subject.”
He grunts, bitter.
A chirp fills the room.
My phone. There. Barely visible under a throw pillow.
Killian is closer and snatches it as if he has any right.
“Hey!” I scold.
“Who’s Jaxson?” he murmurs, reading the screen.
Oh, shoot.
I try to swipe it from his hands, but he holds it higher.
“A date?” he growls.
“It’s nothing,” I explain anxiously, trying to keep the unpredictable patient calm. “It isn’t serious.”
Killian’s hand grips the phone tighter, and he glares.
“Let me get this straight. You are going on a date with some random fucker instead of me?”
“He isn’t random.”
“Bullshit, I looked through your phone. There weren’t any guys.”
“You what?” I gasp.
He doesn’t backtrack at all. “You live alone. I was making sure you’re safe.”
“No! You were spying on me.”
“Not well enough. You’re about to go whore around. I didn’t see that coming.”
Whore around?
I can barely process this.
“Killian,” I say slowly, my brain struggling to catch up. “Jaxson is from nursing school. He isn’t random.”
And to make sure Killian understands he and I will never happen, I add the brutal truth.
“I’ve liked Jaxson for a very long time. I’m excited about the date.”
It’s hard to say even after he just invaded my privacy, but something deep inside of me doesn’t want to hurt Killian.
I feel the change. The energy shifts. The air thickens. And for once, Killian is speechless.
“We should go to the restaurant,” I whisper to end this conversation — and us — once and for all.
The silence drags, then finally, he says, “Sure.”
One word.
One terrifying word.
He hands me my phone, then turns around like I didn’t just upset an incredibly unstable man. That alone should make me call Clark.
Instead, I follow Killian.