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She reaches over, kissing my cheek. “Love you and have fun tonight.”
“Will do.”
As I close the door behind her, I lean back against it. Will Ben and I forever be a secret? Is that all our night will be?
A man has never infuriated me more than him. I’ve avoided him at all costs, but it doesn’t mean I haven’t seen his stolen glances or subtle hints when he’s brought files over to me. I just can’t speak to him. He said our night together meant nothing to him, when it meant everything to me. As much as it hurt when he walked away that morning, I could take it for what it was. A great night of incredible sex.
Then he messed with my head by saying he couldn’t stop thinking about me, and I had to wonder what was holding him back, because I never pegged him to be a prick who enjoyed fucking girls around.
Knowing I only have forty minutes left to get ready, and I’m yet to do my hair, I head down the hall to my bedroom.
Movement at the window grabs my attention and a scream dies in my throat. I can’t move or let go of the breath I inhaled.
The person is obscured by the reflection of the lamp and the hood they have pulled over their head.
Knuckles tap against the glass window, and I step back, knocking into the doorframe.
Has Zach come back to hurtle more abuse at me?
“Imogen,” Ben hisses, and my shoulders drop, relaxing for a split second.
Then remember why I’m mad at him.
I rush over to the window and lift it up until it clicks onto the latch. “What are you doing here? You nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“Your dad was out the front talking to Hope.”
Of course that’s what he would be worried about.
“And you thought sneaking to my bedroom window would be less suspicious?”
I step back to clear the space when he begins to climb in. The minute his boots touch the carpet, he turns back to close the window. “I wanted to see you.”
“You could have waited until Monday,” I remark.
His heated gaze locks on me. “I couldn’t wait until Monday.”
“Ben, you need to leave. I’m going out tonight.”
“With Jackson?” he questions, his jaw clenching.
“You already know who I’m going on a date with,” I state. I lift my clenched hand to his abs when he steps into my personal space. “And you already know he’s going to be here soon.”
“He isn’t right for you,” he heatedly responds.
“But the guy who doesn’t know what he wants, is?” I ask, closing my eyes when his hands grab my hips.
His presence threatens my resolve to put space between us.
I’m not a fuck buddy. I want more than that.
“I’ve tried,” he breaks. “Believe me, I’ve fucking tried.”
I tilt my head to meet his gaze. “Then you need to try harder. Because this isn’t fair.”
“I’ve tried to get you out of my head. I’ve tried. But you’ve gotten so far under my skin, you make me question why this can’t happen in the first place,” he breathes. “And believe me, that’s no easy feat.”
“I’m not the one holding back. I won’t give you a hundred percent when you can’t even give me ten.”
