He hadn't been in his right mind today. Not since this afternoon at the hospital, not during the drive, and certainly not when he'd put his hand around Lila's throat in the middle of traffic.
He'd lost control. Multiple times. In ways that weren't just out of character... they were dangerous.
And the worst part?
He could still feel her lips on his.
The memory burned through him... soft and desperate and pleading... and he hated how vividly he could recall it.
The way she'd tasted. The way her hands had gripped his shirt like she was drowning and he was the only thing keeping her afloat.
"Fuck!" The word burst out of him, sharp and frustrated.
He slammed his palm against the steering wheel, the impact doing nothing to dispel the images flooding his mind.
Her eyes, wide and desperate. Her voice, breaking as she apologized. Her body, pressing against his in that final, reckless attempt to make him stay.
Why can't I get her out of my head?
