I’m about to kiss him, but he rolls off me and lies flat on his back. He keeps his gaze trained on the ceiling. I’d give just about anything to know what’s going through his mind.
Curling up next to him, I place my head on his chest. “Sorry for killing the mood.”
Shame floods his features again. “I don’t like that I scared you.”
I thread my fingers with his. “I know you’d never intentionally harm me while you’re raging.”
I just want him to grasp that even though he would never do it on purpose, it could still happen if he’s not careful.
Bringing my hand to his mouth, he kisses the inside of my wrist. “I wouldn’t.” He tilts his head to look at me. “I’m sorry.”
Never in a million years did I think I’d ever hear those words from Phoenix Walker.
“It’s okay.” Not wanting to drag him over this all night, I give him a flirty smile. “If you want to be rough with me, do it during sex.”
Because I definitely don’t mind it then.
I expect him to make a crude remark and pick things up where we left off…but he doesn’t.
He goes back to staring at the ceiling.
I place my free hand over his heart. It’s beating fast and hard. “What are you thinking about?”
In the heavy silence, his gaze searches mine. As usual, his impassive expression gives nothing away…but I’d give anything to know everything he keeps bottled up inside.
Just when I’ve given up hope, he speaks.
“Quinn doesn’t deserve this.”
He’s right, she doesn’t.
The thought of someone hurting a girl who’s so vibrant and full of life makes me want to find the asshole and dole out my own brand of punishment.
So while I wholeheartedly agree that Quinn doesn’t deserve this, it seems Phoenix doesn’t realize something equally as important.
I trace the curve of his brow with my finger, waiting for him to make eye contact. When he does, I whisper, “You didn’t deserve it either.”
This time when he kisses me, it’s soft and gentle…like he’s saying thank you with his lips.
Then again, Phoenix has always been enigmatic when it comes to kissing.
I wonder if there’s a reason for it. Maybe he had a bad experience.
“Can I ask you a weird question?” I breathe between kisses that are quickly heating up.
“You can ask me anything.” He licks my bottom lip before biting it. “Doesn’t mean I’ll answer.”
I’m aware.
“What’s your deal when it comes to kissing?”
He stills, his lips grazing mine. “Got a problem with my technique?”
“No,” I quickly assure him. “I love the way you kiss.”
He puts every single thing he feels into it, just like he does whenever he’s on stage.
I pull back because having a conversation when we’re literally lip to lip not only feels funny, it’s difficult.
“I remember you telling me once that you didn’t kiss your hookups. I’m just wondering why kissing is so important to you.”
His gaze drops to my mouth. “Like I told you back then. It complicates shit. Makes them think it’s more than what it is.”
A weird twinge flits through me with the memory.
It’s not that it’s important to him…it’s that it’s important to them and he doesn’t want women to misconstrue things.
“Yeah, I remember.”
His lips find mine again, but I place a hand on his chest, halting him.
Phoenix might be onto something.
“Since we’re only fuck buddies, maybe we should stop kissing.”
His jaw sets. “We’re only fuck buddies because of you.”
No…because of him.
Which is all the more reason I need to start drawing some clear lines in the sand before they all become blurred.
“It’s just…it makes sense, you know? I think we should take kissing off the table.”
“Yeah.” He pulls his mouth away. “You’re right.”
I should be happy we’re in agreement about this, so I force myself to ignore the stupid pang in my chest.
The ensuing silence stretches to the point it’s almost uncomfortable. Complicated.
I look past him to the window. The sun is fully up now, the birds chirping with the start of a new day.
“I’m exhausted and I know you must be, too. I’m gonna head to my room.”
A spark of hope goes through me because maybe Quinn will be there.