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"No. I'm being honest. My sense of smell boycotted years ago." He dropped his arms so I could finally step into my apartment. Looking around, I could see he'd been busy while I was gone. My mess from my pity party had been cleared away, along with the week's worth of trash that had been spread out across my counter.

"You cleaned?"

"I was bored." He closed my front door and leaned against the counter.

"You didn't have to wait for me to return," I said, picking up my phone that was now charging on the table near my couch. I cringed when I saw all the missed calls and messages. It was a bucket of reality tossed over my head. I didn't need to click on the messages to get an idea of how I'd hurt him. "Sorry about this," I added, placing my phone back on the table.

He shrugged but didn't comment.

"I guess I'll take my shower," I said, heading toward my bathroom before he could answer. I wondered if he'd be gone when I came out. I hoped so. One of us had to make the break.

I stayed in the shower until the hot water ran out. I knew I was taking the chicken's way out. Hiding out until he got sick of waiting for me. It was an immature move, but I was already stacking up immaturity points, I might as well have added more to the tally.

Only when the water started to turn to the equivalent of ice water did I twist the nozzle and step out. Wrapping a towel around me, I stepped out of the bathroom into my room. I shouldn't have been surprised to see him sitting on the edge of my bed. Deep down I'd known he'd still be there. Nothing was resolved. We'd made a colossal mistake, and yet here we were. He stood up, watching me. His eyes moved intimately across my barely covered body. The heat from last night flared back up. I stepped toward him, releasing my grip on my towel. It fluttered to floor at my feet. His eyes remained on mine as he pulled me to him. Yep, I was going to hell, but I couldn't seem to find the will to care.

***

"We can't keep doing this," I said sometime later, still wrapped in his arms.

"Why? I think we're quite good at it," Brian said, trailing his fingers over my bare hip.

"Aren't you afraid of what people will say?" I asked, twisting around on the bed so I could face him.

He tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear before answering. "Like who? What we do is our business. It's the best thing about being an adult."

I trailed a finger across the contours of muscles on his chest. "Your parents will hate me."

"Why would they hate you?" He leaned closer and ran his tongue lightly up my neck toward my ear.

"Dan."

His mouth left my skin as he pulled back. "I'm not Dan," he stated.

I looked at him in surprise. Did he really think I'd called him by his brother's name? "I know you're not. You asked why your parents will hate me. They'll hate me because I betrayed your brother. We betrayed your brother."

His sudden flare of anger left his eyes as he sighed. "Kat, Dan has been dead for two years now. We all miss him and we're always going to feel his absence, but do you really think Dan or my parents expected you to pine after him forever? People move on. Life moves on. My parents want you to be happy."

"But you're his brother," I retorted, wondering if he was deliberately being dense.

"You don't think I know that?" He rubbed a hand over his head, clearly frustrated. "I like you, Kat. I like being with you. You're smart, funny, and tough as nails, but soft when you need to be, like now." He stroked a large palm down my spine before settling it back on my hip. "I like being in this bed with you. I like the way your breath hitches when I touch you here." He glided his palm up to my breast. "I want to be with you. Do you want to be with me?"

His words tumbled through my head. He made it all seem so easy. Hidden behind my bedroom wall away from criticizing eyes and comments, it was easy. But what would happen when we left my apartment? I disagreed with him that his family would be as forgiving as he thought.

"Kat," he coaxed when I hadn't answered his question.

"I'm scared of getting hurt again, but more importantly I'm terrified of hurting you," I answered with more honesty than I intended. I should hate him for getting me to admit things I didn't want anyone else to know. That was the problem with the whole situation. I'd allowed him in and now I didn't know how to get him back out. I wasn't even sure I wanted to.

"Kat, you're not going to hurt me." His fingers closed around mine, bringing my palm up to his lips.

"Liar," I said, watching his mouth move across my palm. "I hurt you yesterday."

His lips paused. "That was something else." He resumed his perusal of my palm.

"No, it wasn't. I hurt you. I was selfish. Don't you see why this isn't going to work? I'm a selfish person and you're..." My words trailed off as he slid one of my fingers into his mouth.

"I'm what?" he asked once his mouth released my finger.

"Not selfish," I answered breathlessly as his lips found the sensitive skin of my wrist.


Tags: Tiffany King Fractured Lives Romance