Free Edge of Recovery (Love on the Edge) by Molly Lee Page A

from me.
    “Yes,” I said quickly. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”
    Retaking my hands, she continued to lather and rinse until there was no gray left, only clear, warm water. She looked up at me as she grabbed a wad of paper towels next to her and handed them to me. I dried off, my skin already craving her touch.
    A fleck of gray sat just beneath her eye and I reached up to smooth over it with my thumb before thinking. She didn’t flinch away from my touch. She did the opposite. She sighed and stepped closer to me. Her green eyes were open, honest, and in them I saw a flicker of the want I felt rushing through my blood.
    There was nothing I wanted more in that instant than to claim her mouth and see what she tasted like.
    And knowing that, feeling the slam of need surging through me, I backed away as quickly and as far as the small space would allow.
    “Justin,” she whispered my name, not giving me the space but instead closing the distance until her chest pressed lightly against mine. “Don’t pull away from me. Not here.”
    I looked down at her but kept my arms locked at my side when all they wanted was to wrap around her hips and heft her up to my level. I wanted her, wanted what it looked like she begged of me but I would not breach the professional line between us.
    “Talk to me,” she said, remaining still.
    “I can’t.”
    “You can. You know you can.”
    “No, Charlie, I can’t. You don’t get it. I’m not good. There is nothing about my past, the reasons why I’m here, that is clean.”
    “And you think what I’ve shared with you is a fucking bubble bath?” She arched a brow at me, her eyes lit and on fire.
    “No, of course not---“
    “Then snap out of it!” She placed her hand on my chest. “I can feel this, Justin. I can see the torture in your eyes every single day, and it’s killing me because I know if you’d just open up a crack I could help you.”
    My heart pounded underneath her hand, so hard I’m sure she could feel it. I nearly spilled my entire guts on the floor right there, ready for her to give me my final judgment but I held back.
    “You sound like Thomas,” I said. “You both are so sure I’m fixable.”
    “You are.”
    “No. I’m beyond broken.”
    “Well, so am I. So are more than half the people in this building. But that is the beauty of broken things. They can be reworked, adjusted to build something even more beautiful than the original.”
    I rolled my eyes. “I never was and never will be beautiful. ”
    “That’s where you’re wrong.” She raised her hand, stroking the stubble on my jaw. “You are beautiful. I see you. I see every dark, aching piece of you, and I know it sounds insane, but I get it.”
    “You don’t know a thing about me.”
    “Please,” she huffed. “I know you, Justin. I know you’re drinking to kill the pain of some wrong you’ve done because you’ve done nothing but berate and blame yourself since I met you. I know you push people away because you’re afraid you’re doomed to repeat the mistakes of your past. I know that you push drugs but not enough for the buyer to inflict any real harm to themselves—other than delay their rehabilitation—and I know that I should’ve turned you in the second I knew for sure.”
    It’s as if the girl had sliced me open on day one and peeled apart my layers, exposing all my flaws. She just didn’t know all the details of my secrets. “Why didn’t you?”
    “Because I see you . There is more than what you project. So much more.”
    “You don’t know that.” I banged the back of my head lightly against the wall, tearing my eyes away from her. She was too close—not only in unraveling me but in proximity. It would only take one move of my hand, and I could crush her against me.
    “I do. And you will too, in time. You just have to give me a chance.” She licked her lips. “Can you do that for me? Please,” she whispered the last word, her mouth inching closer to mine.
    My