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?”

in frustration, shaking his head. ” And I thought that meant you were ready to

toxic sense of entitlement, like I somehow owe him something for being flirty. Like I’m a tease that led him on. I won’t let him make me feel guilty for dancing, as if that somehow obligated me to

night,”

collect himself. “We’re dating, Nessa,” he sighs, his eyes fluttering open

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 of fairytales and

I’m broken.

arms tighter around my

both hands on my shoulders and staring down into my eyes. That’s not what I want.” He

fingers stroke through my hair and he pulls back after a

offering him a weak smile. “I’m gonna walk. It’s a nice

to my forehead before stepping back.

I nod.

get why he’s upset, I really do- but I gave him an out.

suppose that’s more than I can say

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 aching reminder of what I lost. Of the part of

break me when he left, he broke our bond. He took away

most; the connection

emotions are already

face with the pain of the past for a second time tonight. Turquoise eyes meet mine as Callum strides from the parking lot, and aside from the obvious look of surprise in them upon seeing me, his expression is

my head down to 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 back

“Why’d you leave?”

trembles with my demand, my hands balling into fists

the touches, the little inside jokes. The way we came to know each other like nobody else ever had. All the little moments we shared that made up the story of us, the

the light from the parking lot illuminates the sharp line of his jaw. His tongue snakes out to

Bullshit,” I spit, stomping toward him. “You could’ve told me about the mission, but you didn’t. You just left! And what the hell was that note?! I’m setting you free? When did I ever

be doing just fine without me.” He flicks an accusatory glance back toward the apartment building I just vacated, then returns his piercing gaze to

fine waking up in

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