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‘A few more hours?’
‘No.’ He frowns. ‘I don’t have to be in England until New Year’s Eve. Spend Christmas with me.’
I feel as if I’m being stretched on the rack. ‘What?’
‘A week’s extension on our original deal?’ His tone is teasing.
Something shifts in my chest, something painful. ‘Why?’
He shrugs his shoulders casually. ‘Why not?’
My knees tremble. Fire spits through my veins. It’s so close to what I want, but, now that I understand how I feel, being with Nicholas for another night—let alone seven—would just be too hard.
‘Because, I can’t.’
His expression is sceptical. I draw in a deep breath. ‘I have to get back to my normal life,’ I say emphatically—my normal life is my lifeline. It’s the talisman for who I used to be. ‘I have the Christmas drive for Chance, and the Christmas lunch I do every year.’ I bite down on my lip, looking away from him because I can’t bear to look into his eyes for another moment. ‘I can’t.’
The last word wobbles a little. I sip the coffee to stave off some kind of emotional scene.
‘One more week.’
‘No.’ I am emphatic. I speak as if my life depends on it, and in many ways it does.
He’s quiet a moment. ‘I don’t understand. Last night was...amazing. You’re saying you don’t want more of this?’
‘We said a month,’ I murmur. ‘We were clear about this. The Christmas benefit was to be the end.’
‘And that’s what you want?’
I open my mouth to say something, but what can I say? That yes, I want more. I want too much more. How did this happen? The club and Chance have been my total priority for so long and I would have sworn they always would be, but now there’s something—someone—else who matters just as much, and despite the fact I swore this would be fun and casual and no-strings, despite the fact I initially loved the boundaries we put in place, I want to push against them now. I’m in love with him, and I know he doesn’t love me back, but, God, I can’t ignore how I feel.
‘Damn it, Imogen, it was an arbitrary line in the sand you decided on. Why can’t we shift it by one fucking week?’
His anger sparks my own. I can no longer control my feelings, my rawness. ‘Because a week isn’t nearly enough, Nicholas. I don’t want just one more week with you. I want a lifetime, okay?’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
HER STATEMENT HANGS between us like a thousand and one daggers. I stare at her; nothing makes sense. I must have misunderstood.
‘What are you talking about?’
She sips her coffee, her face pale, her features drawn.
She’s so quiet and impatience is slicing through me.
‘For God’s sake, Imogen, that doesn’t make sense. What do you mean?’
Her eyes are huge and hollow, emotions rushing through her that I can’t comprehend. All I want is to keep this fun going—and it is fun. This last month has been one of the best of my life. I love spending time with Imogen. I love hanging out with her. God knows, I love fucking her.
‘I’m in love with you.’ Her eyes pierce me, accusation in them, anger too. I am silent, grappling with the words as though maybe I’ve misunderstood, as though I’ve magicked them up out of my deepest fears.
‘What?’
Her smile is laced with self-condemnation. ‘I fell in love with you. It was the last thing I thought would happen, and honestly I have no idea how it did happen. Without meaning to and without me even realising, somehow you’ve become a part of me. And I can’t just pretend I don’t love you, and go back to sleeping with you and dating you and getting to know you when inside my heart is breaking.’
I’m silent. I’m completely floored.
‘It’s fine.’ She smiles but her eyes look moist. ‘I know you’re not in love with me. I’m not telling you this because I’m hoping you’ll get down on one knee an
