Page 58 of Imogen


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I lower my phone to the seat next to me, scrubbing a hand down my face.

“You told them where I am,” she accuses.

I meet her gaze. “Did you want me to lie to them?”

Her eyebrows rise and she throws her hands up. “Uh, yeah! I’m not ready to go home.”

“The longer you leave it—”

“Really? The harder it will be?”

“Yes, and you know it will be. You aren’t going to feel any better hiding away from them. You won’t get answers being here,” I point out. “Plus, you know they’ll only turn up here if you don’t go home.”

She snatches her coat off the arm of the sofa. “God, I forgot how annoying it is when someone is right and you’re wrong.”

I grin as I get to my feet. “It’s a gift. I’m always right,” I tease.

“Don’t make me knee you in the balls,” she warns.

I place my hands on her shoulders, seeing the anxiety on her face. “It’s going to be okay.”

She exhales, her shoulders dropping. “I hope you’re right.”

“I just told you, it’s a gift I have.”

Her eyes narrow for a split second. “Goodbye. Thanks for the company and the couch.”

“You’re welcome.”

She stops as she gets to the door, turning back to face me. “You kissed me.”

“I did,” I confirm, my heart beating wildly.

She goes to leave, and it’s like her movements and brain aren’t in sync. She opens the door just as she goes to take a step outside, and smacks the door into her face.

I rush to her side, checking her for injuries. A red mark circles the centre of her forehead. “Shit! That’s going to bruise.”

“I’m taking my dignity and leaving now,” she grouches.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. My pride, however, is probably tattooed into your door,” she admits. “Bye, Ben. Thank you again.”

Before I can stop her, she closes the door behind her, leaving me staring at the door.

I let her stay the night.

I kissed her.

“Fuck!”

I’m seriously fucked.

Because I want to do it again.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Imogen

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