Addicted to You (One Night of Passion 1)

The food had been good, but the conversation had been stilted and terrible, Katie reflected as she took her last bite of salad. Each of them tried twice to bring up a safe topic while they ate. Every time, their attempts seemed to be sucked into the vacuum of straining silence.

Katie had to admit, the fact that Rill’d tried, at least, had meant a lot to her.

When the awkward silence continued even as they both cleaned up in the kitchen, Katie decided she’d had enough. She was still hurt by what Rill had said upstairs. Confused. Pissed. Why did she have to be the one to offer the olive branch? By the time Rill had scraped the broiler clean and she’d dried it and put it away, Katie’d had enough.

“I’m going upstairs,” she said quietly.

“No, Katie. Wait,” he said, turning around from where he stood at the sink. She froze in her retreat and met his gaze fully for the first time that evening.

“I . . . want to tell you something,” he began gruffly.

“What?” Katie prompted when he winced and glanced away.

“I’m not sure.”

“Fine,” she said abruptly. “I’m going upstairs, then.”

“Wait a second,” he said in a low but insistent tone. “Do you think this is easy for me?”

She looked at him, her eyebrows raised in sarcastic expectation. His jaw moved as though he were chewing on a rock.

“I’m sorry,” he said, as if he’d just spit the rock out of his mouth.

It didn’t satisfy her. Not in the least.

“For what, exactly?” she asked bluntly.

He glanced at her in surprise. “For . . . for letting it happen.”

She turned and started out of the room.

“Wait . . . Katie?” he called out.

“What?” she asked, turning so quickly her long hair whipped into her face. She pushed it back impatiently. “Do you think you’re telling me something I don’t already know, Rill? Jesus. You can’t even put it into words.”

His nostrils flared in anger.

“I’m trying to apologize for ‘putting it into words.’ I shouldn’t have said what I said before. I shouldn’t have done what I did.”

“Fine. Apology accepted. If that’s what you want to call it.” Katie added the last under her breath before she turned again and started to head for the stairs.

“Don’t walk away from me, Katie.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” she asked, spinning around once again at his quiet but commanding voice. “You seem to find my presence unsettling somehow. I told you before I knew that. I’m still not going. You can apologize all you want. By the way, you should work on that hangdog expression. Pick up some tips from Barnyard, because your acting is terrible.”

His eyes flashed dangerously. “I’m not acting, you little . . .”

“What?” she asked aggressively. “Child? Nuisance? Convenient piece of ass?”

He expression went rigid. “I was going to say idiot, you little idiot.”

Her chin went up. She crossed her hands beneath her breasts. He inhaled in exasperation when he took note of her defiance.

“Can’t you see this is a mistake? You don’t belong here, Katie.”

“Oh, yeah? When’s the last time you got shit-faced?”

His expression flattened. Katie zoomed in for the kill.