Chapter 25 After the Hunger
He watches me, still with that look on his face, until my breathing goes back to normal.
The room stops spinning, and reality creeps back in.
Lawrence presses one last soft kiss to my forehead, then stands.
I watch him, still a bit dazed, as he shrugs his jacket back on, slides his glasses into place, and smooths his hair with one hand.
In seconds, he's back to looking like the cold, polished CEO who walked through my door.
And just like that, the spell breaks.
I push myself up on shaky arms, suddenly aware of how exposed I am.
Sliding off the couch, I walk to where I dropped the robe earlier and pick it up, wrapping it around myself.
"This can never happen again," I say first, wanting to be the one to reject him this time around.
Lawrence turns to face me, adjusting his tie with deft fingers.
"Of course," he replies smoothly.
The answer infuriates me.
He's supposed to argue. To say no.
He's supposed to tell me it'll happen again because he has feelings for me—real feelings, beyond lust.
Because he came here straight, the second those pictures hit his phone.
Because he couldn't stay away.
Instead, he gives me calm agreement, like this was just another transaction we're both better off ending.
My chest tightens with anger, hurt and humiliation twisting together until I can barely breathe.
Lawrence makes for the door, but I move forward, blocking his path without thinking.
"You don't get to do this," I snap, my voice shaking from anger. "You don't get to show up at my door unannounced, kiss me like that, fuck me with your mouth like you're starving, and then act like it's nothing!"
I exclaim.
He goes still.
I keep going. "So, what does this mean, huh? You're here because what? You saw the pictures and got hard? You decided you wanted to finish what you started in the car? That's all this is?"
"Scarlett, please."
"Kieran likes me," I blurt. "He looks at me like I'm a person, not a problem to solve or a body to fuck when it's convenient."
"I don't think that way of you," he says with a frown.
"He asked me out properly." I continue, stepping forward. "And he's taking me to dinner tomorrow night. I said yes."
I laugh without humour, spreading my arms. "I might even date him. Who knows?"
Lawrence's expression goes blank for a second, then something dark and possessive flashes across it.
"Over my fucking dead body."
I chuckle in disbelief. "We'll see about that. Please leave." I point at the door. "I'm done letting you in and out of my life whenever you feel like it. Get out, Lawrence."
He stares at me, unmoving.
For a long moment, both of us remain in our positions.
Then he exhales slowly and steps back.
"What happened in the car, and now wasn't a mistake, Scarlett," He says softly. "It was more than that."
Then he leaves, shutting the door after him.
"Well, screw you for making this so complicated!" I yell after him before turning and sinking to the floor.
Then, on second thought, I get up to lock the door in case he decides to come back.
When I pick up my phone and open his chat box, the five photos are still sitting there, delivered, read, and unanswered.
Angrily, I delete the thread.
I would've blocked his number as well if he weren't my boss.
But what had he meant when he had said what happened was "more than that"
The question nags at me as I make my way to the bedroom.
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"Scarlett, do you want me to slap some sense into you?" Beverly's angry face stares back at me through the FaceTime camera.
Her eyebrows are raised in a judgmental look.
I'm sprawled across my bed now, still wrapped in the robe. My hair's a mess, and my cheeks are still flushed from the wine and everything else.
I decided to call her when I couldn't hold it in another second—the wrong photos, Lawrence's sudden appearance, the way he dropped to his knees.
I needed to spill it all before I exploded.
Adjusting the screen of my laptop, I prop myself up on an elbow, staring back at her in embarrassment.
I just finished recounting the whole thing. Beverly listened raptly, gobbling every detail.
Now she's staring at me like I've lost my mind.
Maybe because she's right.
I have LOST my mind.
"It was hot, yes," She admits. "But girl, please, you need to pull your head…"
"…out of his ass," I finish for her, the words automatic, like a well-rehearsed mantra. "I know, Bev. I'm trying. Trust me, I'm trying."
She leans closer to her camera, her expression softening but still a bit angry.
"Babe. He doesn't want to be with you. He just wants to fuck you when it's convenient FOR him and then apologise when he feels guilty, then disappear again. That's not love. That's control."
I swallow hard. "I know."
"Do you?" She cocks her head. "Because you just let him back in, again, and now you're sitting there looking like a woman who's already half in love with the guy who keeps breaking her heart."
"I'm not in love with him," I say quickly.
Beverly raises one brow. "Uh-huh."
I drop my face into my hands. "It's not that simple. You think I haven't tried?" I ask in frustration. "You think I haven't tried to get rid of what I feel for him all along?"
Beverly exhales.
"There's just something about Lawrence." I continue. "There's a way he looks at me sometimes, Bev… like he wishes we could be more. Like…" I pause. "A-and the way he kissed me this evening. It was… it was like he couldn't breathe without me."
I gesticulate desperately. "I can't explain it. It's like he's under my skin and I can't get him out."
Beverly rolls her eyes. "So you guys have chemistry. No big deal."
She shrugs. "Chemistry can burn out."
"I guess," I mutter.
"Kieran is steady. He likes you." Beverly continues. "He's taking you to dinner tomorrow without pulling disappearing acts like you know who." Her tone is flat. "That's called showing up, babe. I'm on his team."
"You've not even met the guy," I scoff.
"I don't need to. I like intentional men."
Her voice softens. "You deserve someone who chooses you every day, not just when he's horny or lonely or jet-lagged from London. Come on, girl. You're worth more than apologies that don't mean anything."
I nod slowly.
"Let yourself be wanted without the constant fear of being discarded."
I manage a small smile. "You're right. I will."
"I'm always right." She grins. "Now go wash your face, drink some water, and get some sleep. Tomorrow is a new day. And you're not spending it pining over a man who can't decide if he wants you or not."
I laugh weakly. "Okay. Okay."
"Love you, Scar."
"Love you too, Bev."
The call ends.
I get up to go wash my face, as Beverly said. When I dry it with a towel, I look at my reflection in the mirror.
Tomorrow I try to move on.
But tonight I'll hold on to what happened in my living room.
I'll let myself remember the way Lawrence looked at me and kissed me like I meant the world to me.