Page 100 of Anton

“You know I could’ve done worse.” He steps toward me, his knuckles dragging down my cheek, eyes heavy-lidded.

“Anton.” His name barely makes it past my lips. “Don’t…”

Don’t stop. Don’t pull me back into the trap you set for me.

“I can’t stop.” His arm bands around my lower back, pinning me against him.

“Why did you do it?” I tip my face up to his.

“He wanted to take you out.”

How the hell does he know that?

“And? We’re over, remember?”

“You made sure of that.”

“Apparently not well enough.” A painful throb climbs up my throat, because I want him so badly it hurts. “You can’t do this.”

I try to push him away, but he doesn’t budge, only holds me tighter.

“You made things between us clear, so don’t you dare pretend you give a shit now.”

“What are you talking about?” Confusion snaps through his features.

“Oh, we’re going to play clueless now?” Shoving his hands off of me, I step away. “I heard you that day after the meeting, what you said to your brother.”

His mouth flattens as he takes one slow step toward me, his arm curling around me again. “What did you hear?”

I laugh, shaking my head. “Enough.”

His gaze drags over my face, and I wish I could hide from it because he has no right to look at me like that. Like he cares.

“You said I was nothing,” I snap, the words spilling out as I push away from him, needing to escape his touch, the way he gazes at me. “You said you fucked me, liked it, might do it again, but that I meant absolutely nothing.” Another dry laugh slips out, but it does nothing to hide the pain. “That all I am is a distraction.”

His entire body goes still. The anger in me wavers because, since I got here, this is the first time I’ve seen my words actually wound him.

Good. I hope it hurts.

“That was not for you to hear.”

“Oh, well, that makes it so much better.” I roll my eyes.

His hand closes around mine. “Come here.”

“No.”

He drags me anyway, guiding me around to the side of the building, away from the front entrance. The second we’re out of sight, he turns and pins me against the wall, his palms braced on either side of me, his body close enough to scatter every thought in my head.

“Do not run from me.”

I stare up at him, furious that my pulse jumps at the deep rasp of his voice. “Then stop giving me reasons to.”

His eyes search mine, intense and probing, and I hate how fast my anger burns into desire.

“I meant every word I said.” His palm cups my cheek, his mouth lowering toward mine, and the hurt comes roaring back.

I shove at him. “Get off me.”