“Did you want to?”

“No,” I whispered.

He leaned deeper into me, so I felt just how much he wanted me. “Do you want to fuck me?”

Oh. God. Yes.

“Yes,” I breathed.

His lips and tongue caressed my neck, whispering slowly across my jaw until they found mine and he kissed me fiercely.

“Tell me you’re mine.” His lips glided across mine as he spoke. But I was too distracted by the sheer pleasure of his body pressing against mine in all the right places to respond. He took my jaw in his hand. “Tell me you’re mine.”

I blinked up at him.

“Are you all mine?” I asked breathlessly.

He pulled back just enough for me to look into his eyes. They were alight with dark fire. His jaw clenched. “You are everything,” he breathed huskily.

It wasn’t something I ever expect to hear him say and my own words failed me.

He closed his eyes, frowning as he breathed in deeply and I could feel the rapid thud of his heartbeat between us.

“Damn it H-bomb,” he whispered as his forehead fell to mine. “You’re going to have to stop this before it goes too far, because I can’t. I’ve tried. I’ve tried so hard. ” He looked pained, his brows drawn, grimacing as he fought the war between pleasure and pain. “But you make me weak,” he whispered. “What I feel for you … it’s too strong … you need to stop me.”

I looked at him, dazed. Stop? Was he kidding?

It was easy to forget all the reasons I couldn’t be with him when his delicious body had me pinned against the wall.

“What if I don’t want to stop?” I whispered, feeling reckless.

He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. “You have to stop me,” he begged. He leaned in to kiss me again but stopped short of my mouth. “I want you H-bomb. I want you so fucking bad it makes me crazy. But I’m no good for you so you need to stop me before I go too far and ruin us.”

His body was a wall of muscle against me, and I could feel the full, hard length of him through his jeans.

And in that crazy moment all I wanted was what I could feel pressed into me. I didn’t care about right or wrong. This felt too good to be wrong.

“I’m not going to stop,” I said, sounding more confident than I felt.

He growled. “If you don’t then I am going to fuck things up. Do you understand me? I’m going to take you into my bedroom and spend the night exploring every delicious inch of your body with every inch of mine. And then I’ll do something to ruin this. To ruin us.”

I didn’t care. I had made up my mind.

Taking his chin in my fingers I turned his beautiful face so he had no choice but to look at me. His face was tortured, his eyes glazed with a desire he seemed desperate to fight.

“Kiss me,” I whispered.

My body was on fire at the thought of what could happen beyond his bedroom walls.

He pushed himself away from me. “You have to go. You have to stay away from me. You’re too good for me.”

“Stop saying that. I’m not too good for you.” I was sick of hearing that bullshit.

“Yes you are. And if I don’t stop this now, it’s going to kill me that little bit more when you work it out.” His brow furrowed, as if just the idea hurt him. “It’s a self-preservation thing. Do you understand? If you care for me at all, you’ll go.”

“Heath, please …”

Yes, I was ready to beg.

“You have to go Harlow.”

His words were like cold water. He was serious. But …

Hot desire was quickly replaced by the heat of humiliation. I dropped my eyes to the floor and bit my bottom lip. Why the hell did I feel like crying?

When I looked up, I looked into a pair of pained eyes. He swallowed hard and the muscles in his jaw clenched. “You need to stay away from me,” he warned.

I was confused. I didn’t understand where any of this was coming from.

“Heath—”

“Just go … please …” He squeezed his eyes shut.

I bit my bottom lip to stop my chin from quivering. Then without a word I launched off the wall and disappeared out the door.

* * * * *

He was avoiding me. He wouldn’t answer my texts. He wasn’t waiting for me after work to drive me home. It was like he had disappeared off the face of the planet. I didn’t see or hear from him. He didn’t ring. He didn’t show up unannounced. I even rang his home phone and when Leigh answered he said, “Yeah, Heath’s here … er … no apparently he’s not. Sorry Harlow. Looks like the asshole is out.”

Over the week I experienced a range of emotions. At first I was annoyed by his unexpected rejection, insulted even, but this was quickly followed by a crushing sadness. Not seeing him made me realize how important he had become to my day-to-day happiness.

By Thursday I was overcome with an overwhelming irritation that he would just walk away from our friendship so easily.

By Friday I was pissed off.

But no matter how I felt, insulted, sad or irritated, it didn’t change the fact that I missed him. More than I could have imagined. And I wanted him back. He was my best friend. And I wasn’t going to let him just throw that away. I missed him. I missed him terribly.

I didn’t fully understand why he’d done what he’d done. One minute he was insisting he didn’t see me like he saw the other girls. The next, he had my back pressed against the wall, his mouth rhythmically working with mine in what had to be the most devastating kiss known to man.

And then, in a complete 360, he didn’t want anything to do with me.

No wonder women threw their drinks at him.

I gave up trying to work it out. I didn’t need to know. All I needed was for Heath to see how we belonged together as best friends, and to give up this ridiculous behavior.

On Saturday I found him at the gym, pummeling the hell out of a punching bag with relentless thrusts of his fists.

“What are you doing?” he asked, cautiously walking over to me. He was shirtless and his flawless torso gleamed with sweat.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Why are you here?”

His attitude towards me was rattling but I wasn’t going to let his cool demeanor scare me off.

“I want to know why you’re doing this, Heath?” I cocked my head slightly to the side. “You don’t answer my calls, my texts …”

“It’s been a busy week.”

I’m not a hysterical type of girl. So I wasn’t going to react to his obvious lie with anything other than calmness. I got straight to the point.

“Why are you treating me like this? How can you just cast me aside like … like all the others?”

He flinched, his brows drawing in, and took a quick step towards me. “It’s not like that. You’re not like that …” He stopped himself and took a step back. As if standing too close to me was dangerous. “You should go.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

His beautiful blue eyes finally found mine. They softened and for a moment it was the old Heath standing in front of me. But then they filled with an emotion I couldn’t put a finger on and they looked pained.

“Please …” he begged quietly.

I crossed the space between us and threw my arms around him, pulling him close as I pressed my face into his neck.

“I miss you Heath. You’re my best friend. Please don’t … please don’t end this.”

His big arms pulled me closer and I felt his body relax as he held me tight against him. His scent and warmth engulfed me and I squeezed my eyes shut. I could feel the strong width of his biceps around me, holding me against the wall of muscle that was his body. And it felt like home. It felt right. And I wanted to tell him that maybe, maybe we were wrong, maybe we could try … To hell with Georgia and college and my parents. To hell with the naysayers and everyone who said we’d never work. To hell with it all! None of it mattered because this was right. Being in his arms was right.

But I didn’t. Afraid of his rejection, I said none of that. Because the heat of humiliation from the other night was still on my skin.