Page 85 of Driven to Love

The tiny move must have given him his answer. He undressed and slipped in behind her. His arms encircled her, and the tension in her body subsided.

She melted into his chest, limp as a rag doll, relaxing as he took the washrag and shower gel and with a gentle touch, bathed her.

When he had finished, they stayed in the tub, her cradled in his arms, until a chill settled over them.

“Come on. I’ll make you some tea.” He stood, slipped from the tub, and wrapped a towel around his waist. Still dripping, he reached a hand to her. Helping her out, he wrapped her in a large, fluffy towel.

She pulled it tighter around herself. “Not the type of linens I expected from a bachelor.”

He grabbed another towel and dried her hair. “What? I like soft things.” When he finished with her hair, he ran his hand down her cheek. The wrinkled pad of his thumb caressed her bottom lip.

She wanted to bite it, pull it into her mouth and suck, then move on until she licked the water from each and every one of his fingers. But she didn’t. If she let her body have its way, no way she’d do the right thing. No matter what her heart screamed, her head knew the right thing was to leave Nash.

When he finished drying them both off, he led her into his bedroom. He pulled out a T-shirt and shorts for himself and her.

Once dressed, he made her some tea.

With each caring action, the tension in Addison’s body grew. The words that had been locked in her throat since he’d burst into that basement struggled for release.

“Thank you.” It sounded wooden, even to her own ears. She swallowed back a fresh rush of tears.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here.” His long fingers entwined with hers.

He didn’t understand. Hell, she barely did. “Nash, I—I can’t.”

A soothing shushing sound passed his lips.

Oh, what gorgeous lips. Addison couldn’t believe she was about to say the next words, but she had to, for him and Davey. “I have to go.”

Nash didn’t speak at first. He searched her face with those intense eyes. The ones that made her want to take it back.

“Okay. We can get dressed and go to your house. But I’m not leaving you alone.”

Well, shit. She’d almost forgotten his protective streak, one of the things she loved about him. And she did love him. All of him.

Now, her tears flowed faster. The taste of salt touched her tongue.

She had to be cruel. It would break his heart. Hers too.

“What the fuck?” His words echoed around the room. She left. Nash sat in his kitchen, staring at the cup she’d just drank from minutes before.

Fifteen minutes ago, they were naked together, and then—Bam! She’d said she couldn’t do this, scooped up her belongings and her cat, and left.

He’d tried to stop her. Hell, he even offered to drive her home. Not his Addison. When she made up her mind, there was no stopping her.

His Addison. He snorted. Not anymore.

“Bullshit.” He grabbed his keys. He was halfway to the door when the image of her determined face flashed in his mind.

She needed time. He could give her that. Couldn’t he?

He dropped the keys on the table and grabbed his phone and called her. It immediately went to voicemail.

“Screw that.” Nash pulled up the text and typed a message at Mach 1 speed.

He stopped. A finger hovering over the send button, he read the plea for her to come back. Talk. Fight. Something.

Anger boiled up in his gut. At her. At himself.