Page 149 of Hate to Love You
My entire plan to prove she does have feelings for me, played out as perfectly as I hoped it would.
“You don’t mean that,” I smile.
“Yeah, I fucking do,” she snarls, storming toward me. “Go fuck yourself. Or go fuck Heather. Go fuck whomever the hell you want because I don’t—”
But before she can finish her sentence, I cup her face with both hands and crush my lips to hers, silencing her.
She protests momentarily, pushing against me and trying to hit me, but I kiss her again, forcing my tongue into her mouth.
And then she kisses me back. Hard.
Her tongue is in my mouth, and my hands are in her hair, my body consumed by the taste of her lips, and the softness of her cheek under my fingers.
My entire body is instantly electrified, heat flooding my veins as everything around us fades away, except the feeling of her lips moving passionately in tandem with mine.
But as quickly as we collided, we are suddenly ripped apart.
“Roman? What the hell?”
Heather’s frustrated scoff sounds behind me and Abby rips away, covering her mouth in embarrassment as she steps away from me.
No. No. No.
“Heather, go back inside,” I growl, taking a step toward Abby, only to have her step farther away from me, still refusing to look back at me.
“What the fuck? Seriously? You ask me to come tonight, and then you—”
“I said go the fuck back inside!” I thunder, whipping around to glare at her, making her jump. “Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something? Or are you as blind as you are stupid?”
“Doesn’t seem like you’re in the middle of anything anymore,” Heather glares, narrowing her eyes at me before switching her gaze to Abby.
Well, she would if Abby had still been standing there. However, in the five seconds I spent yelling at Heather, Abby apparently took off, at lightning speed, and now is nowhere to be found.
God fucking damnit! How the hell does she do that?!
“Get. Out.”
This is all I can say to Cal.
Thankfully, he obeys and silently lets himself out of my apartment.
He came by to tell me that Boris was found dead in an alley uptown. No wounds, no injuries, and according to the doctors at the hospital, it appeared as if his heart had just…stopped.
Boris was one of my longest-serving men, having been with me for nearly a decade. He also was a health fanatic. The kind of guy who worked out every day, drank green smoothies and watched his cholesterol.
To hear that he had multiple blood clots in his coronary artery, doesn’t fit the profile.
It should concern me.
But it doesn’t.
Nothing concerns me right now, other than the fact that Abby won’t return a single call, text or email.
Everything today went according to plan. I’d riled her up and got her to show that she wants me the same as I want her.
But then she left, and now she won’t talk to me, and I can’t escape the crippling feeling that maybe I pushed her too far.
And for all my bright ideas, I have no idea how to fix this.