Page 78 of Third Strike Smitten

Tara

Uh huh. Whatever helps you sleep at night…in Killian’s bed. Probably wearing one of his shirts because yours was all bloody. Tell me, when you were showering with him, did you want him to kiss you?

I swallow hard because the truth feels dangerous to admit, even to myself.

Me

Yes.

Tara

And when he didn’t, how did that make you feel? Disappointed, right? You can be honest with me.

Me

Yes.

Tara

Thought so. You’re falling for him, Isla. And I think he’s falling for you too. This whole “fake” thing is just an excuse you’re both using because you’re scared. Maybe you’re both scared. I don’t know, but I do know three things: 1. You guys look cute together, 2. He clearly cares for you, and 3. You obviously have some sort of feelings for him too that you don’t want to admit.

Tara

Okay, let’s add one more to the list. 4. If you don’t sleep with him at least once, even if it’s just for fun, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.

Me

Maybe you’re right. I don’t know. I’ve got to go. I need to get out of his hair so he can prepare for the game tonight.

Tara

Love you, babe. I’m really glad you’re okay!

Me

Love you too!

I set my phone down, my heart rate up a bit after chatting with my bestie. Tara’s words echo in my mind, forcing me to confront feelings I’ve been desperately trying to ignore. The thing is, she’s right. I did want Killian to kiss me last night. I wanted him to make a move, to break our stupid agreement, even if it was just once.

But he didn’t. And now I’m left wondering why.

Was he just being respectful?

Or am I simply not enough for him?

I push myself out of bed, wincing as my cheek throbs in protest. I pad across the cool hardwood floor in just his T-shirt and boxers, into the master bathroom. There’s a brand-new toothbrush waiting for me on the counter which I take full advantage of before trying to find where Killian is.

I check the kitchen and the balcony but he’s not there.

“Killian?” I call out, my voice still rough with sleep but there’s no answer. The apartment feels too big and too empty without his presence, so I grab my phone and text him.

Me

Hey, where are you? I woke up and you’re gone.

I wait, staring at the screen, but no response comes. My stomach twists with something that feels similar to the disappointment I felt last night in the shower.

Maybe he had an early meeting or practice.