I shove him against the table. How dare he use me like that. "Asshole".
He grabs my wrist softly and somehow manages to keep a hold of me. "At first, yes… I just wanted to get into your husband's head."
I'm shaking now—I'm so furious. "You play these kinds of power games a lot? You get off on this shit?!"
He grabs my hand in both of his and holds it tightly. "But then I got to know you. You're not like anyone else, Jenna. You're sweet, unpretentious, so full of life. And you're beautiful in a way that has nothing to do with your big blue eyes and your gorgeous red hair."
I'm taken aback by his words, and I can't deny the thrill that runs through me. Something warm unfurls in my chest despite my better judgment. The way he looksat me—like he can see past all my defences—makes my breath catch.
I pull my hand from his and twist my wedding ring nervously around my finger, the small band a physical reminder of everything I'm risking.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
"We only have two more sessions left," I remind him, steeling myself against the pull he has on me. My voice comes out steadier than I feel inside, where everything is chaos. "And there will be no touching. I've had enough of these games."
I cross my arms over my chest, creating a barrier between us, though what I really need is protection from myself and these dangerous feelings I can't seem to control.
He nods, accepting my terms without argument. "Fair enough."
Curiosity gets the better of me, and I find myself wondering about his past with Reeves.
"What is the deal with you and Reeves? This is all about you two, isn't it?"
He stares at the floor, ashamed. "Yeah, this was just me trying to mess with the guy, trying to drive him insane. I know it’s petty… and it’s really not like me, but Reeves got under my skin a long time ago.”
"What?!" I ask, more confused than ever. "Why?! What did he do to you?"
He blows out a long breath, his chest rising and falling slowly beneath his expensive shirt, and I notice how his shoulders tense, as if physically bracing himself against painful memories.
His long fingers tap methodically against his thigh—once, twice, three times—a nervous habit I've begun to recognize when he's sorting through a difficult challenge at the table. The silence stretches just a beat too long, making the small space between us feel electric with unspoken history.
"Back then, he had the upper hand," he starts. "His dad owned the place. He and Greg were Kings, both bigger than me…” His words trail off as he stares into the distance, remembering those days. “Bigger, but not smarter,” he points out. “Now, I have the upper hand… I own this place, well, this building anyway. I've just been waiting for Reeves to fuck this up as I've expected him to… and he certainly didn't disappoint."
"So it wasn't a coincidence when you bought this building."
He smiles. "Nope. When I saw this place for sale, Ijumped on it. My dad didn't think it was the greatest investment, but I had to have it."
"And you always get what you want, don't you?”
He shoots me one of his irresistible grins. "Of course."
"So what happened between you back then?"
His expression darkens as he goes back there. "He and Greg beat the shit out of me when I was sixteen. I ended up in the hospital for a week."
I'm shocked speechless. The story freezes me in place, my mind struggling to reconcile this revelation with everything I thought I knew.
That wasn't how Reeves told it at all—not even close. In his version, there had been some mutual shoving match, a teenage disagreement that got out of hand. Nothing about hospitalizing someone.
But looking at Caine now, at the subtle vulnerability in those stunning eyes that normally reveal nothing, I know without a doubt that he's telling the truth. There's no performance here, no calculated move. Just raw history laid bare between us in this dimly lit corner of the pool hall that suddenly feels too small, too intimate.
My husband—the man who cradles our son when he has nightmares, who brings me coffee in bed on Sunday mornings—was capable of something so vicious. The knowledge settles like ice in my stomach, heavy and uncomfortable.
“It was brutal," he goes on. "My dad got both of them arrested, but they were both juveniles, so they didn't get into too much trouble."
This is a side of Caine I've never seen before— so vulnerable. The controlled businessman disappears to reveal that he's only human, like I am. I feel for him, and I can't help myself when I inch closer and hug him.
He freezes in my arms, and I awkwardly back away. So much for not touching. This one was my bad.
