Trust me, I’m freaking ready.

More ready than I’m sure he even knows.

But I want this to be successful. I’ve never had a successful relationship, not one where I can look back and say that even though it didn’t work out, it was a solid relationship. So I’m going to let him take the lead. I’m going to let him be in the driver’s seat and relinquish control, something that’s very hard for me to do.

“Okay.” I open the door and move to get out, but not before he reaches across the console again, grabs me, and pulls me in for another soul-searing kiss.

Yup, I’ll let him take all the control he wants if it’s going to make me feel like this—so light—like there isn’t a worry in my world. And even though I know that’s not the case, if I spend more time with this man, I feel he will protect me from my biggest enemy. Myself.

Chapter Thirteen

RYOT

Present day . . .

Have you ever felt like you were swirling around in a black hole with no way to get out? Where no matter how hard you attempt to think of a solution, there’s nothing you can do? You’re just floating further and further away?

That’s how I’ve felt every goddamn second since JP and Huxley came over.

It wasn’t planned. I was just as shocked as she was when they came over, and I was in desperation mode. I don’t know what it is about those two men—because they’re the nicest, most business-savvy but understanding men I’ve ever met—but I don’t want to let them down. And I don’t want them to see that I’m failing—failing at my marriage—especially since they take their relationships so seriously.

I’m still stunned that even though Myla’s acted so ice cold since she asked for a divorce, she sat with us at dinner. And it was great until she started talking about the move.

The tension between us rose like an exploding volcano, and the boys picked up on it. They asked me if everything was okay. I just told them it’s been a bit of an adjustment, but nothing to worry about.

And it all tumbled from there.

My frustrations, her frustrations.

Seeing through her lies about loving me, wanting me.

Tasting her.

Her watching. It’s all so fucking confusing that I have no idea what I’m doing anymore, and I’m spiraling out of control.

Not to mention, since that night it’s been a nightmare living with her.

Here’s the thing with Myla you need to know—she doesn’t handle her emotions well. She doesn’t like to feel out of control or exposed in any way because it reminds her of her childhood. She keeps her guard up at all times.

The other night, when I was between her legs, she won’t admit it, but she let down her guard, especially when she followed me to my room. And because she did that, now she’s put up a fortress around her while shooting off bombs every chance she gets.