The Hotter You Burn (The Original Heartbreakers 2)

Completely emptied out, he collapsed beside her, and he wasn’t sure how much time passed before he had the strength to rise, find a towel and clean her up.

She draped her hands over her eyes, her cheeks flushing to a gorgeous rose. Embarrassed? After what they’d just done?

The tenderness returned, redoubled, and he tossed the rag aside. He pried her fingers from her face and smiled at her. “You are a treasure, you know that?” He smoothed a lock of damp hair from her face. “Never change.”

She gripped the covers, those ocean-water eyes languid with satisfaction—and dread. “Is this the part where you blow me off?”

Her lips were red and swollen from his kisses, and it took him a moment to get his attention off them and onto her words. “Blow you off? You’re my friend, rabbit. You’re stuck with me.”

“Well. That’s something, at least.” Gaze downcast, she stood and dressed in the tank and shorts. “Last night you mentioned something you and Brook Lynn wanted to do for me.”

His airway instantly tightened and sweat beaded on the back of his neck. He swiped up his shirt and tugged it on, and realized he was trembling as he haphazardly buttoned it. He didn’t bother fastening his pants.

“Let’s talk about it later, okay?” Way later...or never. Yeah. Never sounded good.

“That’s what you said last night. Beck, what’s going on?” Worry darkened her features. “Tell me before I have a panic attack.”

“No reason to panic, baby. It’s nothing bad.” He’d said he would never lie to her, and he wouldn’t. He hadn’t. What he and Brook Lynn planned wasn’t bad for her.

He was another story.

“Beck.”

He pulled at his collar, saying, “Brook Lynn thinks it will be a good idea if we find you...a man. Someone better than me.” The material ripped, and he dropped his hand to his side. He could only grit out the rest of the explanation. “Someone who will meet all your needs.”

She stumbled back as if he’d kicked her, the color draining from her face, leaving her pale and waxen. “You and Brook Lynn think...” A wealth of hurt peered at him as she floundered for a response. “You want me to be with someone else? Already?”

Never! he almost snarled. He hated the thought of her with someone else, and there was a good chance the guy would end up in the hospital before all was said and done. “I want you happy. You deserve to be happy. This is for the best.”

Hurt gave way to anger. “Whose best?”

“Well, it sure the hell isn’t mine,” he shouted, then immediately hung his head in shame. He had no right to yell at her. Blame rested on his shoulders, and his alone. “I’m sorry.”

“Stuff your sorry.” She pointed to the door. “Get out.”

No. No way in hell was he leaving her like this. “If you don’t want another man, don’t be with another man. But—”

“Out!”

He shook his head, desperate to get through to her. “I’m not leaving until you give me what you promised. Your secret.”

“I’m not telling you anything,” she spat.

“You promised.”

“That was before I knew your plan to pawn me off on someone else.”

Ripped apart inside, he said, “If I could commit, it would be with you, Harlow. I’ve never wanted a woman the way I want you, but I’m just not hardwired that way. I can’t do a relationship, I don’t want a family. You still want those things—right?”

She was silent for a moment. Slowly, she nodded.

Her agreement wasn’t a surprise, but was still somehow a blow he hadn’t been prepared to take. “Like I said, I can’t give those things to you.” He hated those words. They were final. The end of this, whatever it was. He wanted to fall to his knees and beg her to forget he’d said anything.

But he didn’t. Love and lose. It was the story of his life. Even if he could love her, he couldn’t stand to lose her.

Harlow opened her mouth, closed it. Silent, she studied his features for a long while. Whatever she saw removed the starch from her shoulders.

“Do you think you’ll cheat on me?” she asked.

“No! I know I wouldn’t. I know the toll infidelity takes on everyone involved, and I will never be a part of it. But I won’t put myself in a position to be responsible for someone else’s happiness.”

“I’m responsible for my own happiness.”

She said that, probably even believed it, but he would one day do something to upset her, and she would regret being with him. She would leave him. “Your secret,” he insisted.

“You never want to talk about anything else,” she snapped.

“Tell me what happened to you, and I’ll stop asking.”

“No.”

“Tell me.”

“No!”

“Damn it, Harlow. Tell me! You owe me.”

She glared at him, her chest rising and falling so quickly he feared she would faint. “You really want to know? Fine! Someone threw gasoline on me and lit a match.”

She’d been set on fire? “Harlow,” he said, her name nothing but a broken whisper. He reached for her.

“No! Keep your sympathy,” she spat, jolting back. “I don’t want it.”

“Too bad. Your stupid pride can’t comfort you—but I can.”

“You? How can you comfort me, Beck? Right now, you’re my tormentor.”