Page 10 of Burn the Script

I wince, shaking my head. Part of me wishes he would disappear and spare me from facing the damage I’ve caused. I’m a bigger coward than ever, and he’s to blame. His sweet, addictive love has made me weak. And the weakest part of me squeezes his wrists tighter, begging for more.

Soft lips brush the corner of my mouth, granting my unspoken wish. A pathetic whimper crawls up my throat, and my eyes open, meeting his gentle smile. And when he sighs, I breathe his air greedily like it’s the first full breath I’ve taken in a year.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I say, inching closer.

Our bodies connect as his thumbs graze my cheeks. “How else would I get your attention and beg you to come home? You blocked me on everything.”

Reality cuts through the temporary relief. I let go of his wrists and spin away. The texture of my blazer feels rough against my palms as I smooth out the front and take a steadying breath. When I turn around, he’s leaning against the pedestal sink in a casual stance, but his fingers curled around the edge betray his desire to reach for me.

He’s lost weight. Not much, but enough to sharpen his cheekbones and give a looser fit to the khakis I tailored for his long legs. Black sunglasses rest on top of his hat, and I’m tempted to rip them both off and run my fingers through his thick hair. And those lips…god, they’re sinful. His beauty is absurd, unfair, and way too much to deal with this early on a Monday.

Taking another step back, I bump into the stall and tug the bottom of my blazer. “How did you find me this time?”

He drags his gaze from my polished Oxfords to my shorter, spiky hair. While he mentally undresses me, I shift from one foot to the other and piece facts together.

“Maisy. It had to be her. Carmen would never betray me like this.”

“Maisy didn’t betray you. I begged her for a clue then did the legwork myself,” he says.

“It’ll take a lot more than an undercover sting operation and some wilted flowers to change my mind.” I point to the bouquet on the floor. “They’re not even roses!”

I’m whisper-shouting in a coffee shop restroom. My face heats at the thought of someone listening outside the door. I’d die if our private spectacle became public, but Graham loves to push my buttons and wrestle me out of my comfort zone. From the smirk on his face, he knows I’m on the brink of losing all decorum, and I’ve never wanted to punch someone in the mouth so badly in my life.

Pushing off the sink, he closes the distance. “Then what will it take? If you want roses, I’ll buy you roses. You know I’ll do anything for you. I’ve never shied away from your challenges, and I have no plans to start now.” He pinches one corner of my striped bow tie and brings his mouth to my ear. “And once you’re back in my arms, and in our bed, you won’t be leaving again.”

Goosebumps. They’re everywhere. Even in the forbidden places. I ball my hands into fists because they have a mind of their own. They want to latch on to him and see how this hostage fantasy plays out. But the mind in my head understands that’s a bad idea and steers me toward falsehoods.

“You’re too late. I’ve moved on.”

“I can’t accept that.” The finality in his tone makes me bristle.

I draw my shoulders back and raise my chin, standing my ground on this slab of lies I’ve built. “This is what I want, so you don’t have much of a choice.”

Graham’s need for physical touch wafts from his pores. If I were to move forward a few inches, our lips would meet. I wish he’d toss aside his newfound restraint and kiss the fucking life out of me, but he knows when I’ve drawn a line he’s forbidden to cross.

His voice strains when he speaks again. “You shut me out, Miguel. All the way out, with no warning. You didn’t consider what I wanted before choosing to leave.”

“Yet you chose to wait a year before coming after me.”

In hindsight, walking out on him in the middle of the night might’ve been a rash decision, but it wasn’t a cry for attention. I meant to leave for good. Even though I knew he’d show up someday, I’m surprised he waited this long.

“For weeks, I tried getting through to you. The only reason I gave up is because you asked me to give you time, and I thought backing off would speed things along. It didn’t.” An invisible weight presses on his shoulders as he runs a finger down my lapel. “Work with me, darling. Tell me what has to happen for you to come home.”

Work with him? His inability to be a team player contributed to our downfall. He made unilateral decisions that affected our relationship, and my voice got lost.

“As I’ve said, you’re too late.” My hand pauses on the lock, but I let the urge to steal a few extra minutes with him pass. If there’s one thing I can count on, it’s his persistence. So, with the firm belief I’ll be seeing him soon, I flip the deadbolt. “Go. Before someone recognizes you.”

As he tugs the cap lower on his forehead, he says, “You know this isn’t over.”

“May the most stubborn man prevail.” My stare never wavers from his, but it takes a vast amount of willpower to stop myself from glancing at his mouth.

“May the most stubborn man lose. See you soon, my darling.” He winks, sliding the sunglasses on his face while backing out the door.

Adrenaline works overtime, filling my chest with pounding anticipation. Graham’s not a quitter once he sets his mind on something. I can thrash and wail to my heart’s content, but I’ve never been able to resist him.

Me

Come straight to my place after work. Bring the crisis wine.