Page 70 of Just a Little Tempted

“Because you didn’t give her the fucking chance.” Kurt’s disgust was palpable. “You just… attacked. Based on nothing but your own paranoia.”

He was right. God, he was right about all of it.

Kurt waited, clearly expecting some kind of defense. Some justification. But I had nothing to offer. No excuse that would make this okay. It didn’t matter that I’d been conditioned by experience to expect betrayal. None of that justified what I’d done.

I knew Raina. Knew her kindness, her integrity, her fierce loyalty to the people she loved. I should have trusted that. Should have given her the benefit of the doubt instead of letting old wounds poison everything.

The silence stretched between us. Finally, I sank back into my chair, my head bowing under the weight of my own actions. “I screwed up.”

“Yeah.” Kurt’s voice was flat. “You did, you fucking asshole.”

He didn’t say anything else. Just shot me one last look—disappointment layered over anger layered over something that might have been pity—and walked out of my office. The door closed behind him with a quiet click that felt louder than the slam that had announced his arrival.

I sat there in the aftermath, letting the full magnitude of my failure settle over me. I’d been so focused on the business implications—the ruined meeting, the potentially lost deal, the professional embarrassment—that I’d missed what actually mattered. The deal with Alexander could be salvaged or replaced. Another assistant could be hired.

But Raina…Raina was irreplaceable.

She’d been my sunshine since the moment she walked into my life. Not just because of her bright personality or her warm smile, but because of what she represented. Hope. Connection. The possibility that I could conquer my fears and deconstruct the walls I’d built around myself.

She made me better. Happier. More human. And I’d thrown it all away because I was too scared to trust her.

The grief hit me then, sharp and sudden. Not just for the relationship I’d lost, but for the man I’d revealed myself to be. Raina had seen me at my worst yesterday—cruel, paranoid, so wrapped up in self-pity that I’d hurt the one person who least deserved it.

Did I even deserve a second chance? Probably not. But Raina did. She deserved someone who would fight for her, who would admit that he’d royally fucked up and prove that her trust hadn’t been misplaced. She deserved happiness and love and a partner who would stand beside her instead of pushing her away at the first sign of trouble.

I desperately wanted to be that person.

I’d spent years telling myself I wasn’t built for real relationships. That my past had broken something fundamental in me, made me incapable of the vulnerability that love required. But sitting here now, drowning in regret, I realized that was just another form of cowardice.

Raina had made me feel things I’d never felt before and want things I’d convinced myself were impossible. And yes, I’d failed her spectacularly, but failure didn’t have to be the end of the story.

I wasn’t a quitter. I’d rebuilt my career after Chuck’s betrayal. I’d clawed my way back from rock bottom more than once. I knew how to fight for things that mattered. Andnothinghad ever mattered more than Raina.

I straightened in my chair, something shifting in my chest. The despair didn’t disappear, but it made room for something else. Determination. Purpose.

I was going to get Raina back.

I didn’t know how yet. Didn’t know what words could possibly undo the damage I’d done. But I would figure it out. Because some things were worth fighting for, even when you didn’t deserve to win.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Raina

The whir ofthe mixer filled my small kitchen, a steady hum that drowned out the thoughts I’d been trying to escape all morning.

I watched the thick chocolate frosting slowly thin as I added the milk, the motion methodical and soothing. Two dozen cupcakes sat cooling on the counter, perfect golden domes waiting for their sweet topping. The familiar rhythm of baking—measuring, mixing, creating—was the only thing keeping me from falling apart.

I’d woken up feeling hollow. No job to go to. No relationship to look forward to. Just the wreckage of what I’d thought was the best thing that had ever happened to me, scattered across the landscape of my life like debris after a storm.

So I’d done what I always did when the world felt too heavy. I got in the kitchen and baked.

There was comfort in following a recipe, in the precision of measurements and the alchemy of ingredients transforming into something beautiful. Baking didn’t judge me. It didn’t accuse me of sabotage or question my character. It was satisfying and simple. And right now, that simplicity was exactly what I needed.

Besides, Miles was still in the hospital. Hazel had been there all night, and they could both probably use something sweet. At least my heartbreak could be productive.

The frosting reached the perfect consistency. Glossy and smooth, the kind of chocolate that would make you close your eyes on the first bite. I turned off the mixer and begantransferring it to a piping bag, my movements automatic after years of practice. I wasn’t a professional decorator by any means, but I could manage an impressive swirl topped with chocolate sprinkles.

As I worked my way through the cupcakes, my mind drifted back to Simon. It had been doing that all morning, no matter how hard I tried to redirect it. The ache in my chest intensified with each thought, a dull throb that sharpened whenever I remembered the look on his face in that parking lot.