Jax kissed me so hard, with so much pent-up need, that he bruised my lip. I can’t help testing it with my teeth every few minutes for the rest of the evening.

He left me standing in his office, my panties ruined from his attentions, and I stayed there, fingertips against my bottom lip, for longer than I should have.

If you’re not here tomorrow, I’ll consider our agreement void.

It sounded so serious, the way he said it. But I can’t pretend any more. It’s true; we didn’t sit down and sign some kind of contract. He asked, and I accepted. So far he’s kept up his end of the deal.

I’m the one who hasn’t.

Why? Why?

Because of your job, I tell myself as rationally as I can. Because of your career. Because there are things in life you need to work to avoid.

That’s not even an argument.

I drop my head into my hands.

It’s a month. It’s only a month. And at some point, I’ll need to let something else into my life other than work.

I do need this. I do need him.

I’m not going to waste another minute denying myself the raw pleasure of him. That’s all I’m ever going to get from Jax. He’s made that clear, over and over, and as a grown woman it’s unattractive to be so indecisive, so timid about taking what I want.

It shouldn’t be this hard, given how the demands of my job have sharpened my usual drive into a cutting point and made it simple for me to power through any work situation, handle any so-called emergency in the office.

I’ve made up my mind. Tomorrow, I’m going to start taking advantage of the time I have left with Jax. Give myself to him, completely, and leave my feelings out of it.

Tomorrow, I’ll be on time.

* * *

At my session with Carl I’m on fire.

I tossed and turned the night away, my heart thundering like a jackhammer on speed. I’ve never wanted to wish my life away, but I wish I could get through this day, get to 5:00, get to Jax, and set everything straight.

Thank God Carl agreed to meet me on a Friday, after I missed Wednesday and Thursday.

“Jesus, Cate,” he says as we step off the mats, sweat running down his face. “What’s gotten into you? Did somebody piss you off yesterday at work?”

“In a way,” I say. That person was me. I’ve had enough of being so weak-willed, and I’m done with it.

I might have slightly overdone it during the workout, however, because my heart rate takes much longer than normal to come down. The edges of my vision seem blurred—pressurized, almost—but I’m determined to blink it away.

In the car on the way back to my apartment, I scan through my email.

Nothing there. I answered a lot of messages in my energetic frenzy last night, so the morning should be relatively peaceful. Knock on wood.

On a whim, I open one of the many social media apps on my phone. I used to be active with posting and sharing photos, but work takes up so much of my mind now that I hardly look at the feeds.

I’m scrolling through a sea of baby pictures and engagement announcements when I see it.

It’s an ad, judging by the “sponsored” tag at the top of the little box, but it must be an ad for a gossip site, because there’s a splashy, obnoxious headline beneath the picture.

It’s a picture of Jax.

He has his hand raised in front of his eyes, but the photog got a lucky angle, because his face is clearly visible. He’s looking down into the face of a woman with gorgeous red hair and a killer body, and she’s looking up at him, her eyes full of charm and focus.

I check the date.

So that’s where he went last night, after he left me.

My body feels numb.

It’s a ridiculous reaction. The agreement Jax and I have is explicit when it comes to the fact that there will be no relationship.

Stabbing my thumb against the screen of the phone, I back out of the app and stare out the window at the empty early-morning sidewalks instead.

This woman will have no effect on our deal. Not if I can help it.

* * *

One minute before 5:00, I take measured steps down the hall to Jax’s office, slip inside, and stand next to the opaque inner doors that separate us.

His voice seeps through the crack in the door—a phone call? I turn to leave, to give him his privacy, but something keeps me in my spot. He’s not trying to be quiet.

“Mom, it’s all right. This is where—”

A pause.

“He’s gone, Mom.”

Another pause.

“He’s not gone, he’s…unavailable. No, I don’t know when he’ll be back. Stay there. It’s the safest place for you.”

Several long moments.

“All right. All right. I’ll be there to visit soon, but he can’t come with me. I’m sorry. Yes. Chocolate. I love you, too.”

I wait, standing perfectly still, for at least a minute, then knock.

A few second pass before I hear his voice. “Come in.”

He remains seated as I approach his desk, his blue eyes locked on my face.

This is the moment.

I spent most of today planning out what I’m going to do, what I’m going to say. Instead of hovering in front of the desk, waiting for his instructions, I step around to the side, a few feet from his chair.

His eyes don’t betray even a hint of confusion.

I lower myself to my knees on the floor and look up at him, my breaths fast and unsteady. It’s like looking into the sun, but I force myself.

“Mr. Hunter,” I begin, my voice clear and strong, “I’ve made my decision, and—”

“Stop.” He holds up a hand, cutting me off.

“But I—”

“This arrangement is over, Ms. Schaffer.”

My cheeks go hot as the pit of my stomach freezes.

He can’t mean it.

He doesn’t mean it.

I can see it on his face, the way his muscles tense around his mouth, like he’s trying to keep his stony expression in place.

I’m open-mouthed, silent.

“It’s a risk for you professionally…and it’s not something I can continue.”

“But—”

“It’s over.”

My knees are shaky, weak, as I rise to my feet. “But why?”

He pushes himself to standing, his fingers spread wide on the desk in front of him. “I can’t continue it. Neither can you. It’s over.”

I bite my lip, my chin quivering in spite of the herculean effort I’m putting in to keep the tears from spilling down my face. My shoulders tighten, burning. I needed the release he was going to give me, but I craved his closeness, his touch, even more.

He says something too quietly to hear.

“What?”

“Go. Go back to work. Just go.”