Page 112 of Dream Chaser

I followed her, heart thrashing against my ribs. “Nova.”

She picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder. “Yes?”

I stepped closer. One step. One more. This was wrong. I knew it. I’d always known. Even before the swimming pool. Before the mountains. Before I made her mine, only she wasn’t. Not really. And I hated that.

“Don’t.” I cupped her cheek. “Don’t imply I don’t care about you.”

Her shaky exhale gusted over my wrist. Gently, she curled her fingers around it.

I slid my thumb under her chin and tilted her face. Blue eyes seared into mine. It always undid me when she looked at me like that—like she cared. Like she remembered too.

“Do you ever think about that night?” I asked.

It was unfair to put her in this position. She’d been able to follow through on our agreement, and I should’ve fucking done the same. But I couldn’t.

“I do,” she whispered. “More than I should.”

My heart faltered. Then beat twice as hard as I backed her up against her desk. My mouth descended on hers before I could stop myself. I plunged into the kiss, into her, holding her head in place, sliding my tongue against hers.

I’d missed her. So fucking much.

Nova whimpered into the kiss, clutching my shoulders. I teased the tip of her tongue with mine before kissing her deeper. Rougher. My fingers found the top button of her blouse. I undid it, skimming her cleavage with my thumb as I sucked on her tongue. She clutched the back of my head with one hand, bringing me closer as I slid the blouse off her shoulder.

A loud thud echoed in the stillness. We broke apart, panting.

“My purse,” she muttered, cheeks flushed as she bent down to pick up the things scattered on the floor.

I crouched beside her. “Don’t. Let me. It was my fault.”

“No,” she whispered. “It was mine. That shouldn’t have happened.”

The ache in my chest from before was nothing compared to the dull pain now. She regretted it?

I lifted her phone, luckily intact. A business card was underneath. My hand shook as I stared at the familiar name in golden script. “Where’d you get this?”

Nova tossed a lipstick into the bag, glancing at the card in my hands. “The award ceremony. Ignacio approached me.”

“Ignacio?”

“That’s how he introduced himself.”

Knowing the bastard, he’d asked her to call him Ignacio and not Mr. Espinosa. Probably told her she was beautiful and smart. I clenched my jaw until a muscle ticked painfully.

“He offered me a job,” she said.

I dropped his card like it burned. “Did you accept?”

She set her purse aside, hurt swimming in her eyes. “Do you really think I would?”

“He can be convincing.”

He pushed, coerced, and influenced like no other. Nova was smart, but so were all the women that came before her.

“He said you used to work for him,” she said. “I sensed there was more to the story, but you never brought him up. Not that you had to. I’m just an employee, and I’m not entitled to your entire history.”

“That’s not true.”

Nova rubbed her neck, her eyes downcast, then picked up her wallet and keys. I held her purse open so she’d put them inside. Then she rose to her feet and buttoned up her blouse, frowning as she blinked. When she lifted her eyes to mine, they glistened—a punch to my gut.