So Wrong. Part 11

I was learning so much about the man I was once so sure I loathed. It was a heady feeling.

“I don’t do anything,” I mumbled, standing and taking my plate and his. I was definitely embarrassed, or maybe flattered.

“You don’t know what you do to me.” A hand stopped me from running off to the kitchen, running up my arm and clutching my elbow. “I missed you. Really.”

I put the plates down and sank back into the couch. My eyes met his and I realized I was shaking. “Why? Why, Patrick? What is this?”

His hand clutched my thigh and squeezed. “Let me show you.”

“No. Why are you doing this?” I pushed his hand off me. “No sex. I want us to talk.”

It actually hurt to push his touch away. I would have been lying if I said I didn’t want to disappear into my bedroom with him, but I needed answers. More than he had given me. That photo in his kitchen had brought us onto a whole other road than the one I thought we were on, and I couldn’t continue riding on it bli