Page 20 of Almost Rotten

I sound like a petulant child. But the idea of intentional space makes me want to crawl out of my skin.

I’ve given someone space before. I know what it feels like to accept scraps of attention. I know firsthand how those scraps transform into shrapnel.

Space is the fastest way to infect everything good and real that’s been blossoming between us these past few weeks.

“It’s not enough,” I repeat, despondent.

With a sad shrug, she offers me a watery smile and reaches for the door. “It’s going to have to be.”

Chapter nine

Sawyer

Mercer stalks forward, stepping into my personal space as I hover near the door, ready to bolt.

I keep my gaze cast down and smooth out my skirt, then fiddle with the buttons on my cardigan to keep myself from reaching for him.

I’m the one who’s asking for space. It’d be unfair to ask him to hold me now.

Nevertheless, I’d give anything to sink into his embrace right now.

Mercer only inches closer, crowding me until my back hits the door.

With one hand on my cheek, he warns, “You have one week.”

I open my mouth to counter his argument. A week might be okay, but it might not. I don’t know how long it will take Tytus to cool down and see reason.

But before I can form the words, he brings his finger to my lips, silencing me.

“One week, Ms. Davvies. That’s all I can tolerate. I’m too obsessed to stay away longer.”

I can’t fight the smile behind his finger, thankful for the first moment of levity in hours.

Though when he speaks again, the lightness is quickly overshadowed. “I’m not kidding about the timeline, sweetheart. Seven days is already far too long for me to keep my distance.”

He rests his forehead against mine, then nudges my nose with his.

“I don’t want Noah to know what’s going on,” he murmurs, his tone gentle but firm.

Noah.

My heart twists and shame seeps in. How is it possible that this is the first time I’ve thought of him in hours?

“I assume Tremblay is unaware of what’s transpired between the three of us?”

“Completely,” I assure him.

“Good.” He pecks me on the lips. “Let’s keep it that way. I don’t want to give that man-child any more ammo.”

I scowl up at the use of man-child, though I don’t bother arguing.

“Noah’s heart is still so tender. I can’t fathom explaining to him why you’ve pulled back and why the fuck I’m honoring your request and just going along with it.”

He’s right.

This is so wrong.

I can’t even begin to wrap my head around the potential fallout of my actions.