14
Killian
I’m surprised by how damn sober Harlow suddenly looks, but I consider this progress. She tugs at my wrist again, but I keep my hand firmly in place. My fingertip barely swipes over her overstimulated clit, making her writhe.
Once.
Pause.
Twice.
Pause.
She squirms harder each time. Like a trigger on a gun, I use it to my advantage.
“I don’t want you to leave me, Harlow.”
The words are certain and firm.
She blinks, like she didn’t hear me correctly. “We’re not together, Killian.”
“That’s not what I mean. Don’t quit.”
This time, I pinch and hold the knot of flesh and she tries to escape, but I won’t let her. I move on top of her, caging her in.
“Say you’ll stay.”
“You like forcing words out of my mouth.”
“Mm-hm.”
She pouts and whines. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I want to go on that date with Jaxson.”
Yeah, that’s the last fucking thing I want to hear.
But I don’t show it.
“Date him.”
I leave out: But he won’t be fucking you.
She squints. “If we’re being honest? If I never dated Evan, you would be...” She takes a deep breath. “Never mind. You are my patient, Killian. I need you to understand that and respect boundaries. You’re an addict and...”
She drones on about shit that doesn’t matter. Apparently, I still need to figure out how to get her to look at me differently than a patient or her ex.
I interrupt her blabbering.
“It’s easy, Harlow. Don’t drink around me, and I won’t flirt with you anymore. Go on your date. Have fun. I just want you to help me stay sober.”
She flutters her lashes.
Good, Killian. More.
“Staying sober is important to me.”
I almost crack a smile, but succeed.
“It is?” she whispers, her tone skeptical.
“Yeah. At dinner, I didn’t drink.”
“Right,” she replies, squinting.
“So we’re good? We’ll keep our hands to ourselves.” But I pinch her clit, making her burst into laughter.
Drunk-Harlow’s so awesome.
But I remove my hand from her pants.
Her body seems to relax a little. “Will you seriously back off?”
“Of course,” I answer easily.
“And not touch me.”
“Hands-free. Unless you get drunk again and beg me like you did tonight.”
She laughs. “I’ll be so mad at you tomorrow.”
But then, she closes her eyes and drifts asleep.
She thinks I’m just another horny guy. Somehow, that’s less threatening than the truth: she has all my attention. No one else. And I still haven’t fucked her.
Far in the distance, the elevator pings.
I roll out of bed, careful not to wake her. I smile as Asher lifts his chin.
“Want a drink?” I grab him a bottle and set it on the kitchen counter, where he leans against it.
“Goddamn,” he murmurs, studying my scars. “I love it.”
Something about my best friend saying that gives me a sense of peace. “Thanks, I guess. It’s not as pretty as yours anymore.”
Asher does have a pretty face. If we looked in the mirror, we’d be almost identical. Both rich, too. He’s five years younger, though. No tats. No scars. I don’t think he’s ever had a sunburn. The guy’s perfect. Except — he’s fucking dangerous.
People think I’m impulsive, then they meet Asher and find out what that really means.
“How ya been?” he asks.
“Sober, actually. There’s a girl in my bed. She helps me.”
Asher cringes. “Helps you?”
“Yeah.” I pull out my phone and shoot off a text. “There. I just asked for my old job back.”
“No shit?”
I hold up my phone to show him.
“Wow.”
I chuckle at his reaction. “You didn’t think I would get a job with Grayson at the docks, did ya?”
“No, guess not.”
My phone buzzes.
“Yep. Frida said I can come work with her.”
“I guess you really like this girl if you’re willing to work with your ex. Do you think her new husband will be mad?”
“Nah. I got an invite to the wedding. I don’t think Matteo sees me as a threat.”
“You aren’t. She’s the one he should worry about.”
I nod enthusiastically. Asher gets it.
“Besides, I don’t have a lot of other skills.”
“Maybe you could go to college and become a doctor like Jagger.”
I laugh mockingly. “Okay, go to college with me.”
The energy in the room snaps, dark and ominous.
“Right.” His chin lifts, and we stare at each other. After a tense beat, he steps back. “Well, I just wanted to stop by. See how you are.”
“Stay,” I insist, my tone a little too eager. “I mean, if ya want to.”
He glances at my open bedroom door in the distance. “I can’t stay. Have fun with the girl, though.”
I fold my arms as disappointment presses down.
“She might be good for me, Asher. Better than you.”
“Whoa. Sounds serious.”
I fidget. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
Asher walks to the elevator, smooth and calm. “Sure ya did. I guess you don’t need me anymore.”
My heart kicks my ribs. “I do! I just... you don’t come around unless...”
“Trust me. This is good.” He steps into the elevator. “Don’t get attached like you did with me.”
The doors shut, and my whole world shatters. I brace the kitchen counter, trying to stay upright. I glance at the doorway, my body compelled to go to her. Not him.
Instead, I fall onto the couch and wait for sleep.
Because Harlow isn’t a replacement for Asher. I won’t let him make her into something she isn’t. If I do, it means my new life is just a fucking band-aid to get over him.
She isn’t a band-aid. She isn’t anything. She’s nothing.
I smell my fingers, catching hints of her sweet scent. I slip them into my mouth, tasting her.
My cock twitches against my leg. In the dark, I undo my pants and stroke myself as I suck my fingers.
Thinking of her.
Aching for the girl I should go fuck.
I don’t.