Right Man, Right Time (The Vancouver Agitators, #3)(74)

I take my time, attempting to calm my racing heart, and tell myself that I’m just sexually charged right now. That’s why my mind is clouded with thoughts of Silas, not for any other reason.

After I finish washing my makeup off, I turn off the light and notice that the only light on in the main living area is my nightstand light. Silas sits on the edge of the bed in nothing but his boxer briefs, and I can’t help but take in his muscular shoulders, rock-hard pecs, and the contours that wrap around his body from many hours in the gym. He’s carved and sculpted his body to perfection.

When he notices my presence, he stands, towering over me in his height, and pulls the blankets back. Without a word, I slip into bed and move against the wall but face him. He slips in as well, turns off the light, and faces me. We both rest our heads on the pillows, and I reach out and press my fingers to his chest.

“You good?” I ask him.

“Okay,” he says and then molds his hand over mine. “I’m sorry, Ollie.”

“Silas, you don’t—”

“Please let me apologize,” he says softly.

“Okay.”

He places his hand on my cheek, and he says, “I feel like I’m constantly apologizing to you because I keep fucking up, but that’s what I am . . . I’m a fuck-up.”

“You’re not. You’re just hurting.”

“That’s not an excuse.” His thumb strokes my cheek. “Just because I’m hurting doesn’t mean I need to hurt you.”

I lift my hand from his chest and cup the hand that’s on my cheek as I scoot closer to him. “I don’t know what happened between you and Sarah, and that’s your story to tell someday or keep in. It’s up to you, but what I do know is that she hurt you, that she took your trust, and she ran with it. And that makes me sad because I see you walk around, not allowing people to get close to you. I can even see it with your guys.”

“It’s how I prefer it. Can’t get hurt if you’re not close to anyone.”

“But you’re close to me right now,” I say, scooting in another inch.

“This is different.”

“Is it, though?” I ask.

“It is because even though you’re close, I don’t think I can fully let you in.”

I want to scream why? But I know the answer. I know he’s struggling with trusting people, and given his profession and celebrity, I don’t blame him. He probably has people asking him for something every day.

So I can pressure him, or I can let him realize that I am someone he can trust and maybe over time, he will let me in.

“That’s okay,” I say. “I’m just happy I’m close enough.” I smile at him, and he strokes my cheek. “But I need you to know something, Silas. I have no intention of hurting you . . . ever. That’s why I went to your place to talk about the hockey article because I wanted to figure out a way that wasn’t going to hurt you.”

“I see that now,” he says softly. “I’m sorry I thought otherwise.”

“I know why you did. And yes, was I mad about it? Of course. But do I understand? I do. Just know . . . I won’t hurt you. It might take you a while to find trust in me, but when you’re ready, it’s there.”

“Thank you,” he says quietly. “And you know I’m sorry, right? That I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, even though I made it seem like I would.”

“You’re a protector, Silas. Not a hurter. If anything, I feel safe when I’m around you. I trust you and your intentions, even if skewed at times by the hurt that rests tightly on your chest.”

With a heavy sigh, he rolls away to lie on his back and stare at the ceiling. Why is he pulling away?

I move in closer and rest my hand on his bare chest as I prop myself up on my elbow so I can look down at him. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” he says quietly.

“Then why did you pull away?”

His eyes meet mine, and he says, “Because you’re too . . . fuck, Ollie, you’re too mature, too fucking smart, and it’s making me think I can do things to you that I shouldn’t be doing.”

My body tingles with anticipation.

“Like what?” I ask.

“Kiss you, hold you, touch you . . .”

I wet my lips and let my fingers roam his chest as I say, “You can do those things.”

He shakes his head. “You deserve better, Oliana. You deserve more.”

“Who are you to decide that?”

“I know what I can offer, what you need, and they don’t match up. That’s why this works, this arrangement. We both get what we need without complicating anything.”

“What if what I need has changed?”

He lightly shakes his head. “Don’t say that, Ollie. Don’t get yourself wrapped up in this, in me. I’ll only end up hurting you.”

“I don’t believe it,” I say. “But I also won’t push you.” I trail my fingers up to his chin and force him to look at me. “But promise me this, don’t pull what you did tonight on me ever again. If you’re going to threaten me, threaten me with your cock, not your words. And if you’re going to touch me, then you better make me come.”

“Then I should probably leave this bed,” he says. “Because I have no intention of making you come tonight.”