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A sane person would take the hint and retreat, would try and save face. I didn’t feel sane in that moment. Far from it. “Don’t do this. Please.” The last was whispered, pleading.

He looked pained, awkward. “You’re…god, so beautiful, Jaz, so fucking gorgeous, and sweet, and funny and fierce. I care about you, I do, but what happened last night—”

“Was perfect. Was the only thing that’s felt right in a really long time,” I said, throwing my heart on the floor in front of him, begging him to pick it up, to take it and keep it for his own.

“I wanted you last night, I did, badly,” he said roughly. “But this can’t happen between us.”

I was breathing hard, shaking. “Why?”

“You know why. I’m not fit for any kind of a relationship.”

“But this is different, we’d be different. I could help you, we’d be good for each other,” I said, close to begging.

“Butterfly,” he said gently. “I’m sorry.”

I grabbed the edge of the counter so I didn’t collapse on the floor right alongside my bleeding heart. “You want me and not just last night. You want me now. I know you do. Why are you pretending there isn’t something between us?” Something huge. Something real. “Why are you lying?”

The muscles in his arms tightened. “Any male would be lucky to be with you, Jaz, and I mean that, but it’s not going to be me.”

I closed the space between us. My guard had shattered when he’d kissed me last night. There was no throwing it back up now. I felt as if he were tearing me limb from limb. This couldn’t be happening. I loved him. Goddess, so much. I fisted his shirt at his stomach, pressing in close, and looked up at him. “I want you and you want me,” I said, fighting the sob crawling up my throat. “Tell me, tell me you want me too. Stop lying and tell me.”

Ren winced, actually winced. Pity filling his eyes. “Don’t make this any harder—”

“Say it. Tell me you don’t want me.”

“Jazzy.”

“Say it!”

He sucked in a breath, his nostrils flaring. “I don’t. Not the way you want me. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Jasmine. I’m not capable of that, of having a…a relationship with anyone, not anymore. I never should have—”

I shoved away from him, shaking my head, his words wounding me more than anything else ever had, and in a way I knew I’d never recover from.

I looked up at him and fought down the tears. I’d already humiliated myself enough in front of this male. I straightened my spine, my hands to his chest, and looked him in the eyes. I was about to say, If you send me away now, you will lose me forever. Do you understand? If you don’t fight for me now, I promise you, there will never be an us. Never. But my power reached out instinctively, moving through him, and I felt his torment, and just how broken he was. I knew it already, of course. He was emotionally scarred to an extent that no amount of work on his own would heal him.

He needed help. And I was the only one who could do it.

What I was doing right now, it wasn’t fair, not to him, and not to myself. He needed me to help him heal, not beg him to love me like some pathetic fool. Not make everything he was already suffering so much harder. Goddess, I was so fucking selfish. I knew what he’d been through, and still all I was thinking about was myself, what I wanted, what I needed. I loved him too much to do this to him.

I shook my head and choked down my pain. “You must think I’m a desperate idiot. Goddess, I’m so sorry.” I forced a laugh and took a step back. “No, you’re right, of course. This”—I motioned between us—“would be a horrible idea.”

He searched my gaze, and his jaw tightened. “Jasmine—”

“It’s fine, Ren. Honestly. I lost my head there for a moment.” My heart felt as if it had been mangled in my chest, but I forced a deprecating grin. “I thought we could have some fun, but mixing business with pleasure is never a good idea, right? Can we just forget this happened?”

His gaze searched mine, then he nodded. “If that’s what you want.”

“It is. Right, I have to take off, but I’ll be in touch so we can sort out a time for your next session.”

He stood impossibly still, watching me closely. “Okay.”

I walked around him and strode blindly toward the door, my heart hammering in my chest. I walked through the door and up the stairs as calmly as I could, hoping he didn’t see how hard I was shaking, then as soon as I reached the top and was out of sight, I ran, like I could outrun what had just happened.

Whatever hope I’d had, had turned black, had shriveled and died. It was bitter and cold and so wrong I wanted to claw at my skin, at the center of my chest and the organ pounding so desperately there. It still called for him, still demanded I go back, even now.

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Chapter 18