Broken Bond by C.J. Primer

25

VANESSA

I have a feeling Miles was expecting more than a movie night when I took him up on his offer to come back to his apartment. He’s been visibly agitated since the moment I suggested it, his knee bouncing and his posture tense from his seat beside me on the couch. It’s Italian leather, by the way- everything in his place is super nice, and he goes out of his way to brag about the finery of his furnishings whenever he has the chance, like he wants me to know how much money he has. I think it’s his way of showing that he could provide for me, but I tend to find his boasting in poor taste. And if he thinks I’m after money, he doesn’t know me at all.

I nearly breathe a sigh of relief when the credits roll, anxious for an excuse to head back home. I’ve set clear boundaries with

Miles, but he’s been pushing them tonight, no doubt fueled by the beers that he’s been downing like it’s his job. There’s a cluster of empty bottles on the marble coffee table in front of us, only one of which was mine.

They knock together noisily when he bumps the table with his leg as he scooches closer to I’ve moved away each time, but now I’m officially out of room, pinned between him and the arm of the couch with nowhere to go.

“Nessa…” he croons in my ear, his hand landing on my thigh.

I shiver, and it’s not the good kind. It’s the ‘ get me out of here’ kind. A shiver of panic.

His fingers apply pressure to my thigh as he leans in closer, his eyes slipping closed, his mouth angled toward mine.

I launch myself forward, shooting to my feet and stumbling away from the couch, putting the coffee table between us. “I should get going.”

Miles’ bewildered eyes fly open, his face reddening in embarrassment. He shoves up from the sofa, a little wobbly on his feet and his expression shifting to frustration. “

You’re not gonna stay the night?”

I wrap my arms around myself, giving a little shake of my head. He should already know the answer to that question- I’ve never spent the night here. He knows I’m not ready for a physical relationship, and he has always seemed understanding of that. Until right now.

“But I thought…” Miles stammers, his voice trailing off as he scrubs a hand over his face.

When he drops his hand, his eyes are narrowed on me, blazing with a look I’ve never seen from him before. “You were all over me when we were dancing, and then you said you wanted to come back here…”

I arch a brow in challenge, irritated by his insinuation. “And?”

that meant you were

care for Miles, but right now, he’s reminding me of everything I hated about guys when my ‘no dating’ rule was firmly in place. The toxic sense of entitlement, like I somehow owe him something for being flirty. Like I’m

I was going to stay the night,” I

he sighs, his eyes fluttering open and his gaze fixing on mine again. “I’ve been patient. I haven’t tried to push you into doing anything you’re not comfortable with. I’m

have been keeping him at arm’s length. I’m scared for anyone to get too close, and that fear of letting anybody in makes me feel defective somehow. Because I’m not the girl I used to be, who was open and loving and dreamed

I’m broken.

and hugging my arms tighter around my middle. “I know it’s not fair to you. I understand if you

table, my body tensing as he approaches me. “Hey,” he coos, reaching out to set both hands on my shoulders and staring down into my eyes. That’s not what I want.” He pulls me into an embrace, pressing his cheek against my hair. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed. I’m sure tonight couldn’t

crisp scent. His fingers stroke through my hair and

a little shake of my head, offering him a weak smile. “I’m

nods, pressing a light kiss to my forehead

I nod.

do- but I gave him an out. Gave

suppose that’s more than I can say for

pass by like I always do. The knowledge that he could actually be behind it this time has an ache blooming in my chest, echoing through the chasm of space that used to be filled by the mate bond. Now it’s empty, hollow, an

left, he broke our bond. He

most; the connection I always

already on

with the pain of the past for a second time tonight. Turquoise eyes meet

look down at the pavement, my footsteps quick as I swerve to give him a wide berth as I pass. I make it a few paces away before freezing in my tracks, swiveling back around and glaring at the

“Why’d you leave?”

my demand, my hands

in silence, paralyzed by our past. The kisses, the touches, the little inside jokes. The way we came to know each other like nobody

jaw. His tongue snakes out to wet his lips as he parts them to speak, his voice hoarse,

you didn’t. You just left! And what the hell was that note?! I’m setting you free? When did I ever ask for you

me.” He flicks an accusatory glance back toward the apartment building I just vacated, then returns

in that cabin to find