Page 74 of Fixation

“Date whoever you want.” Scooting back is impossible when he grabs my shoulder. His masculine scent overpowers my need to survive. “None of my business.”

“I’ll count it as a question, anyway.” His fingers are hooked into the hem of my sweatshirt. His other hand is firm on my shoulder.

Again, he’s helping me.

I hate that he does that. I hate that he isn’t this terrible kidnapper like in the movies.

“You’re cheating,” I accuse him.

A shrug. “Life isn’t fair, Harper.”

As much as I wish I could call him a liar, I can’t.

I’m aware of how privileged I am. How lucky. My family is the definition of wonderful. I had lots of friends growing up.

My business’s success is every entrepreneur’s wet dream. What they—the grown-ups—never tell you, though, is that success comes with a price.

First, your social life is wiped out.

Then your passion. Burnout is real.

Burnout is the reason I’m here, in New York.

I’m not ungrateful. My life is good. It’s great. But fuck, I’m so fucking lonely.

Soft fabric slides up my body. Anderson pushes my clothes up and over my head, and I don’t fight him. I lift my arms for him.

His hand never leaves my body as he undresses me. To keep me from falling over, Anderson grabs my shoulder one moment, splaying his hand over my back the next.

Things would’ve been far less complicated had he been an inconsiderate jerk.

“I’m single.” He repeats the same methodical movements as he relieves me of my T-shirt. “No girlfriend, no wife. No fuck buddy or situationship, whatever you want to call it. Haven’t been with another woman in years.”

“Didn’t ask, don’t care.” Though I do care. I clench my teeth with every ounce of hatred I have for how much I care.

“I spend most of my time at the hospital, or here, sleeping and…” Against my better judgment, his pause piques my curiosity.

While he helps me lie down, lifts my hips, and removes my sweatpants and panties, I stare at him.

I study him.

He’s pensive, quietly removing my clothes and folding them into a pile at my feet.

Whatever he’s hiding is important. I already know what my next question will be. Getting the answer to it might be vital for my escape attempts.

“Let’s just say, I’m busy.”

I’m fully naked, entirely exposed to this man. The only sign that he notices it, is his clenched jaw and the outline of his hard cock.

My wetness is just as evident.

Neither of us mentions any of it.

That somehow makes the entire situation even hotter.

I’m here, silent. Waiting for him to elaborate. He won’t hear how much I want this.

“However, my schedule isn’t why I’m not seeing anyone.” One shrug, and he’s squeezing soap into his large palm. The fragrance ofmysoap permeates the room. It’s strong, right until the moment Anderson leans closer. “There are storage rooms and closets in the hospital. I could’ve gotten laid easily. Never did.”