Page 111 of Face Off With Fate

“What do you think we’re doing, Trouble?”

“We’re having fun. This is…nothing,” I stammered out, trying to swallow down my emotions. To stuff them where they couldn’t get to me or my fragile heart.

“Wrong answer, Trouble,” he warned, still stalking me down.

A thrill zapped along my spine at being chased. “Friends with benefits then,” I rushed out as my back hit the wall.

Monroe nuzzled my throat, gathering my hands and pinning them above my head in one hand. “So I am like all the others?”

There wasn’t any anger in his words, only a sharp challenge.

The wall scraped against my scalp as I nodded, stomach twisting, knowing I didn’t want to say it out loud.

His rough fingers dug into my hip, and my heart thrashed against my ribcage, a moan falling from my lips, only to be swallowed up by him. His tongue plunged into my mouth. It was as if I were being consumed.

Claimed.

“Say it. Say that I’m like all the rest. That this...” he growled between kisses, motioning between us, “means nothing.” He rested his forehead on mine, our chests heaving in rhythm with each other. Synced in a way that made my heart ache.

My pulse stuttered, the words catching in my throat. “It means nothing.”

The lie was clunky and putrid, as if my body were physically rebelling against it. Those oceanic eyes I knew so well narrowed, the slash of his mouth opening.

“Liar.”

His lips slammed down on mine again, hands finding purchase in my hair. I was drowning. Sinking further and further into the emotional abyss that was my feelings for him.

I was a liar. I knew I wanted him. Knew we’d be good together.

Same way I knew it could ruin our careers…and my heart.

Salt coated our tongues, and I realized hot tears streamed down my cheeks.

Monroe pulled away, resting his forehead against mine.

“It’s okay, baby.” He cradled my face with his palms. “You can run. I’ll chase after you.”

My heart seized. Is that what I wanted? To run?

His tender lips pressed to the apple of my cheek right over a stray tear. He repeated the act for every salty droplet. The quiet tenderness shredded the last of my restraint.

“You already caught me, Josh.”

THIRTY-SIX

GRACIELLA

I’LL UNCLOG YOUR PIPE…

The morning was still nice, not yet bogged down by July’s afternoon heat. I’d needed out of my apartment. Hopefully, working at a public coffee shop would force me to be productive rather than lying in bed re-reading all of Monroe’s texts.

Couldn’t kick my feet in the air and squeal like a love-sick teenager in public.

A buzz in my hand had me smiling before I even unlocked the screen.

Monroe:

You still in bed?