Strong Enough

“I don’t.”

“I hate myself for it.”

My heart squeezed. “Why?”

“Because it’s wrong.”

So that’s it. “Didn’t it feel good?”

He closed his eyes and exhaled. “It felt fucking incredible.” Then he looked at me again. “But Maxim, it’s not who I am. Do you understand? I don’t want that. I can’t.”

“Okay.” As much as I wanted to argue, I knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. His problem wasn’t with me—it was with himself and his beliefs, and he’d only dig his heels in deeper if I pointed out the truth. But having me here had to make it worse for him. “Derek, I should find somewhere else to stay.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. I don’t want you to go, I just—we just have to forget it happened,” he insisted, as if I’d said otherwise. “That’s the only way.”

“Okay. That’s what we’ll do.” I’d agreed with him, but you’d have thought I hadn’t from the tortured look on his face. Don’t look at me like that. This isn’t what I want, but you’re not giving me any choice.

A second later, his phone vibrated on the counter behind us. He jumped up and grabbed it. “Hello.”

Grateful for the breathing room, I sucked in lungfuls of air free of his scent, willing my heart rate to return to normal.

“Yes. You want to talk to him?”

I turned in my chair and Derek handed me his phone. “It’s Ellen.”

“Thanks.” I brought the phone to my ear and watched him leave the kitchen and go into the back hall. “Hello?”

“Hi, Maxim!” Ellen chirped. “Are you busy?”

I heard the bathroom door shut. “No.”

“Want to head over to the bar? Derek said he’d bring you.”

“Oh. Sure. Do I have time to clean up? I was working in the yard this morning.”

“Don’t worry about it. You’ll want to shower when you get home from the bar anyway. I always do.”

“Okay. I guess I’m ready, then.” If I could get my pulse to stop hammering.

“Super! I had a barback quit this week and I’m short-handed. See you in a few.”

“Sounds good. Bye.” I ended the call and set the phone on the table as Derek came back into the kitchen, looking much more like himself. Calm, cool, in control.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Almost. I’m going to change clothes really quick. My laundry still in the dryer from last night?”

“Yep.” As if our previous conversation hadn’t happened, he picked up his phone and leaned back against the counter, focused on the screen. God, he could go from hot to cold quickly—and from cold to hot just as fast, like he’d shown me last night. It was dizzying. I grabbed my clean clothes from the dryer and headed upstairs to change, grateful for a reason to leave the house.

Seventeen

DEREK

Why doesn’t he care?

It was making me crazy. Everything about him was making me crazy. The way I wanted him, the memory of last night, the fact that he seemed completely unbothered by the fact that I was demanding we forget anything happened. In fact, it had been me to bring it up again at the table! How fucked up was that?

But nothing I said had provoked him, and his ability to remain cool and detached while I was coming out of my skin made me want to scream. He’d been totally into me last night! The blowjob had been his idea! Why. Didn’t. He. Care.