Page 92 of The Has-Been

“I know, but you wanted to take things slow,” I shoot back at him, kicking off my snow-covered boots before crawling into the bed.

He leans against the wall, hands tucked into his pockets. Damn, why is it so attractive when men do that?

“Trust me,” he says with quiet emphasis. “I don’t want to take things slow.” He takes a step forward. “I don’t want to keep my hands to myself.”

I swallow thickly.

“I want to make you forget all about that seven inches of snow.”

My eyes flicker down right to his groin, where I can see physical evidence of his claim.

“But—” he utters as he slowly peels off his shirt. My breath catches in my throat even though I’ve seen him shirtless countless times before. “I want to do things right this time. To prove to you that I’ve changed. That I can be the person you need—not just the man you want.”

And, damn, do I wish I had a chaser to wash down his words with.

I shake my head because I’m not ready to hear his words. Not in this stupid hotel. Not when I haven’t been as honest with him as he has with me.

But he takes a few steps back, moving toward the bathroom as he peels off his pants. Then, before I can look away, he’s slipping off his briefs, and my mouth dries as his erection is on full display.

I heave a heavy breath, having to force my eyes up and away from his evident want. He takes his hands and strokes himself just once. His eyes never once leaving mine.

“I want you so bad, I can’t think straight.” Liam drops his hold on himself, holding his hands up like he’s innocent of some nameless act.

Fuck—I can’t believe we have been in this hotel for all of like two minutes and his dick is already out.

“But I want you more, Aubs.”

Then he backs away, disappearing into the bathroom, and I hear the shower turn on.

I lay on the bed breathless, staring at the space he once filled. I straighten myself, trying to find my dignity and force myself to stay on this mattress.

But then I’m standing, moving across the room.

I try to steady myself, but I’m spinning out of control, one thought tripping on the heels of the next.

I push the bathroom door open.

I shouldn’t be doing this.

And yet, I am.

Watching through the shower’s glass, I study Liam as he stands in the water’s path.

He’s leaned against the shower’s wall, his head tilted back, letting the water pound his face like he wants it to clear his thoughts physically.

He jumps a little when he finds me watching him.

But he opens the shower door, his hand reaching for me.

I walk closer, completely unconcerned that I’m still in my clothes. I take his hand and step in.

The water is warm against my skin, plastering my hair to my face.

I feel so heavy, weighed down with guilt and the truth separating us. I stare at him—honesty dancing on my tongue. It’s right there—ready for him.

The shower head is behind me, the water soaking me through, but I don’t care.

“I want you, too,” And while it is a truth, it’s not the one I should be telling him.