Total pages in book: 224
Estimated words: 215705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1079(@200wpm)___ 863(@250wpm)___ 719(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 215705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1079(@200wpm)___ 863(@250wpm)___ 719(@300wpm)
“I’m ready,” I say, starting the walk down the stairs.
He shuts the album but holds up a small three-by-five shot of me and my mother that I forgot was shoved in the back of that book. He stands and takes the garment bag, setting it down on the couch. “She looks like you,” he says.
“Technically, I look like her,” I say, taking the photo from him and damn it, my hand shakes. I hate that she still gets to me.
“She doesn’t get that distinction,” he says. “She left. When was the last time that you talked to her?”
“Years. Five. Seven. More, maybe.”
“How many?” he asks again, obviously sensing that I know the real number.
“Seven. It will be eight in two months.”
“Is she alive?”
“Yes. I get a postcard here or there, from her travels.” I toss the photo onto the album.
Reid steps into me and cups my face. “I’m here now. You know that, right?”
My chest tightens with emotions I don’t want to feel. He’s tearing down some wall I didn’t know was there. He is. I feel that. I like it a little too much, too. “For now,” I say. “Yes.”
He pulls back to look at me. “Because you still think I’m going to fuck you out of my system?”
“Some version of that, yes.”
“I’m not the one that will walk away, baby. I told you that.” His thumb strokes my cheek and he kisses me. “Let's get out of here.” He laces his fingers with mine, grabs my garment bag, and heads for the door with me in tow. And for now, I really do know I can depend on this man. I trust him, perhaps beyond reason, considering how we came together, but trust adds merit to his claim that I will walk away, that I will hate him. He believes I will and that’s hard to ignore, which means I need to understand where this certainty comes from before his prediction comes true. I need to use this weekend and chip away at the stone. I need to find the man beneath.
Chapter thirty-six
Carrie
Asense of raw vulnerability suffocates me as Reid and I exit my apartment. I was right when I said that this man has a hand in every aspect of my life, quite literally, now that we’ve gotten personal, and that is the kind of control I have not allowed anyone in my adult life. And it is control. He could hurt me as easily as he saved me professionally. We step into the hallway and I can’t look at him. I’m angry at myself, and I’m not even sure why. It’s not about trusting Reid. I made that decision when I decided to stay and fight for the company by his side.
We step into the hallway and Reid shuts my door, making sure it’s locked up; protective, I decide. It’s not controlling, not at this moment. When he turns back to me, he is suddenly cupping my face, kissing me deeply, like he can’t help himself, like he can’t wait until we’re alone again, and it helps. I needed to feel his need, not just mine. “I will never use that information you just told me against you,” he promises. “I told you about the letter from my mother. You’re not out there on a ledge alone. I’m right there with you. This is all new to me, too.”
I’m stunned that he is this in tune with what I’m feeling that he even verbalized it in ways I had yet to do in my mind. “Is that where we’re at? On a ledge?”
“Yes, and we’ve decided we’re jumping together.” He strokes my kiss-dampened lips with his thumb. “Come on. I can’t wait to get you alone in the Hamptons, and to watch you charm Grayson.” He laces his fingers with mine and starts walking toward the elevator; his confidence in me affects me, pleases me, but it also feels like pressure.
“I hope I can,” I say as he punches the elevator call button.
“You not only can, you will,” he says. “He doesn’t have a chance to even think about saying no to working with us,” he adds, as we reach the elevator and the doors open to display a group of people crammed inside.
“We punched the wrong floor,” one of them says. “But join us for the ride down.” They make room.
Reid glances at his watch and nods, indicating time is an issue. We step inside and he pulls me in front of him, his hands on my shoulders, his big body framing mine. In this moment, I have this sense of us being a couple, not just fucking, for the first time. Are we a couple? Jumping off the ledge does mean that, right? The ride is short, and my unanswered question is left for later review, perhaps with Reid, not without him. The doors open and with Reid still holding onto me, we hurry out the front door, rather than the rear of the building where the car waits for us on the street. Once we’re inside, Reid pulls me close, our legs aligned, his hand on my knee, a warm sense of belonging together, wanting each other, between us. That vulnerability of minutes before is still here as well, but what I don’t feel is the resistance I’ve felt to falling for Reid. It’s too late. It happened somewhere in between him being an asshole and an asshole I started falling for, and it’s too late to stop it. Whatever this is happening between us has a life of its own, and it will not be stopped. I just pray “the end” isn’t hate. I don’t want to hate Reid ever again.