Page 159 of Power Play

She stared while I walked back toward the bedroom and picked up the shirt she had thrown onto the floor.

“If you think I’m the kind of man who tells you there’s nobody else and then fucks women on the road the second you can’t see me, I don’t know why you came here tonight.”

“That’s not what I think.”

“Then figure out why you said it.”

“I was scared.”

“I know.”

“Why isn’t that enough?”

“Because fear explains why you hurt somebody. It doesn’t make the hurt disappear.”

Charm went silent.

I pulled the shirt over my head. Her eyes followed the movement, and for one miserable second, I remembered how the night started.

Her legs had been wrapped around my waist. Lace warmed beneath my hands, and her mouth tasted like the future I had spent six weeks refusing to rush.

I would have sold a kidney to go back twenty minutes.

I wouldn’t go back by lying to either of us.

“I guess we’ll talk when I get back.”

Her eyes snapped to mine. “You guess?”

“Yeah.”

“Ryan.”

“Maybe you need this.”

“What?”

“Time away from me.”

Her face broke, and I hated myself a little. I held the line anyway because going after her every time she retreated had started teaching both of us that I would always close whatever distance fear created.

“You’ve gotten used to me being available whenever your mind starts spinning. You call, I answer. You text, I’m there. You need tutoring, food, a ride, or somebody to tell you what I think, and I show up.”

“That’s what people do when they care.”

“I know, and I’m still going to care six days from now.”

“Then why are you making it sound like some test?”

“It isn’t a test.”

I stepped toward her again. “It’s six days where I physically can’t be at your beck and call. Maybe that gives you enough room to figure out whether you miss me because I make you feel better about yourself or because you actually want the man underneath all of it.”

She stared at me through tears. “That’s cruel.”

“It isn’t meant to be.”

“It fucking feels like it.”