Page 156 of Unsuitable

Holy fucking fuck.

I press my trembling hand to my chest, applying pressure, trying to ease the race in my heart. It’s beating so hard and loud that I’m afraid it will actually wake him.

I can’t wake him now. Not when I’ve just spent the last few minutes easing myself out of his arms.

It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep after we finished making out.

Yes, we made out.

He made me dinner. He actually cooked for me. A guy has never done that before. He lit candles and everything. It was really romantic. Then, we curled up on the sofa with our glasses of wine and watched TV together. Well, the TV-watching didn’t last very long before we started making out like teenagers.

Kas suggested we go to bed. I agreed.

And we carried on with our make-out session in here. Obviously, we didn’t have sex because I’m supposed to be on my period. But, God, I wanted to.

I wanted him so badly. I still do.

After we finished making out, he wrapped me up in his arms and held me like he never wanted to let me go.

And I didn’t want him to.

But I have to.

I have to know the truth.

Taking a quiet, shallow breath, I slide out of bed, my bare feet touching the thick carpet.

I cast a nervous glance back at Kas. Holding my breath, I watch the silhouette of his strong back. His breaths are deep and even. He’s fast asleep.

And I’m doing this.

Eyes on the half-open door, I tiptoe out of his bedroom.

I descend the stairs on silent feet. The light on the outside porch is casting a small glow in the large hallway.

Feeling a chill, I shiver, wrapping my arms around myself. I only have on one of Kas’s T-shirts and my undies. I feel like I should be wearing a black cat suit or something equally badass. Not an old band T-shirt of Kas’s that carries his scent. And it’s really distracting because I love the way he smells. It brings warmth and hot memories to mind, and that makes me feel like a total bitch for sneaking around his house like this.

Then, I remind myself that I wouldn’t be doing this if it weren’t for him and his lying ways. I would have been lying upstairs in his arms, probably having sex right now, if he’d chosen honesty.

But he didn’t, and here we are.

Well, here I am.

I tiptoe across the floor and into his office.

I quietly close the door behind me, and then I make my way across the room and turn on his desk lamp.

I don’t waste any time. I start searching through his desk drawers, looking for a key.

I find one key, but it’s small and looks like it’s for a padlock or something. But, aside from that, there’s no key that would fit that door.

Hands on hips, I survey the room.

If I were Kas, where would I keep a key for a secret door?

I’d keep it with me.

I do a quick mental run-through of what he was wearing when we went upstairs. Jeans and a shirt, and he put those in the laundry basket, so there definitely isn’t a key there.