First

I reach up and clasp her hand, forcing her finger away. I don’t like this line of discussion. Thank God the guys are in the living room watching the game.

‘I’m not trying to convince people of anything.’

She scoffs at that and takes a step closer to me. ‘I’ve known men like you. You sacrifice for everyone else because you’re too scared to go out and grab life by the balls. You act stoic and distance yourself from the people who need you most. No one can read what’s going on under the surface. It’s easy enough to put on a good face for everyone else, but after a while, that control starts to slip.’

Her other hand slides up my arm, to my shoulder, my neck. Her fingers trail along my chin and I can’t move. Not a fucking inch. Because she’s voicing the thoughts I’ve been fighting to ignore for years. I never should have played this game with her …

She lifts to her tiptoes, hand curling around the back of my neck, and whispers in my ear, ‘The only question is what happens when your control snaps? Do you start running into fires you can’t survive? Drink? Fight with your sister?’ Her lips close on my earlobe and I can’t keep down the rising groan. I feel her smile rather than see it. ‘Or do you end up in a woman’s bed and pretend it never happened?’

Everything clicks sharply into place. I jerk back, searching her face. ‘Wait—’

She blinks and her smile loses some of its triumphant edge.

I’m still holding her hand and my skin sparks where her other hand is clasped around my neck, but now I get it.

‘You’re trying to get back at me because you’re angry I’m keeping my promise about not sleeping with you again.’

‘Wha—? No!’

She attempts to retreat, but it’s my turn. I take a half step in, until our fronts are pressed against each other. She breathes faster and her eyes narrow as she glares up at me.

‘You hate that you want me. You hate that you want a normal, nice guy and you hate that you can’t avoid me because you’re too good of a person to ditch Cat.’

Shouts and complaints come from the living room. The game’s heating up. Any second, the heat between Maya and I may burn this kitchen to the ground.

She doesn’t deny anything I’ve said, doesn’t even attempt to argue with me. She’s shutting down. I’ll be damned if she does that to me.

‘You’re acting right now,’ I accuse. ‘You can look bored, but guess what you can’t change? Your breathing. Your pulse. Your eyes.’

‘My eyes?’ Her voice sounds uninterested, but her heartbeat hammers under the delicate skin of her wrist.

‘Yes, Maya. Your eyes. You’ve never been able to make them lie. Why do you think I always end up arguing with you? You’re looking for a fight and I’m the nearest punching bag. No matter how damn polite you sound, your eyes always say “fuck off and die”.’

‘Oh, do tell what they’re saying right now. I’m sure it’ll be a familiar story for you.’

I bend my head. She shivers when I lower my lips to her ear and murmur, ‘That’s where you’re wrong. Because you may be saying “fuck off and die”, but your eyes are saying “bend me over right now and fu—”’

I don’t get a chance to finish. She snaps her head to the side, her lips crashing into mine so ferociously I think we may have drawn blood. Deep inside, some part of me that heard her words agrees.

***

Jake’s right. I hate him. I hate that everything he said is true. I hate that he’s the best man I’ve ever met. Most of all, I hate that he now knows how much I don’t hate him at all.

This kiss has nothing to do with warmth or kindness. All my anger, my frustration, my pain goes into it. He’s the first man who has ever seen past all my lies and my defences. And he’s the only man who still wants me just as badly.

I want to deserve a man like him. I want to prove that no matter how messed up I am, maybe we could be … I don’t even know … more.

He pulls back, corner of his lip swollen from my attack, eyes dazed. Fear twists inside me and I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

‘Dammit,’ he mutters.

The moment his lips crush back against mine, the fear vanishes. His arms wrap around my back, hands pressing me tighter to his body. My breasts flatten against his chest. His shoulder flex under my hands as he lifts me, stepping forward in a smooth motion to set me on the counter, forcing my legs wide so he can step between them, as close to me as we can be with clothes still on.

And I still want more.

A loud cheer from the other room breaks us apart. I try not to pant and the fast, rapid expansions of Jake’s chest mean he’s in the same place as me. He makes a frustrated noise and rests his forehead against mine. His lips brush my mouth, stealing kisses between breaths.

‘Can’t stop … kissing you,’ he complains.