Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 66330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Garrett was still talking, his voice low and intent. “You’re playing with fire, Con. This thing is going to blow up in your face. It doesn’t matter how careful you are. You think I don’t know what I’m talking about? I make my fucking living on mistakes blowing up in people’s faces. People who are a hell of a lot smarter than you.”
Remembering his barstool swinging client, I doubted that they were that much smarter. “Thanks for the advice,” I said levelly, handing off my credit card without even glancing at the bill.
Garrett scanned my face, then settled back in his barstool. “I’ll invoice you,” he said, resigned.
For the next week, I doubled down on being careful. Lily joked that we would have to start wearing disguises even in the apartment if I got any more paranoid. She said it with a laugh, but I caught the flash of wariness in her eyes before she busied herself with opening the wine.
“Hey,” I grabbed her around the waist and turned her around. “Look at me.”
She didn’t want to, but she reluctantly turned her face up to mine. I studied the expression in her bottomless blue gaze. Was that hurt mixed in with the wariness? “What’s wrong?”
Lily tried to look away, but I wouldn’t let her. “Talk to me, Lily,” I ordered, my voice hardening as my stomach tightened. She was getting sick of this shit, just like I knew she would. She was remembering that there was a city full of men who wouldn’t have to lock her away in their penthouses to spend time together. She might even be thinking about that asshole Devon with his farm boy good looks. I had to find a reason to fire him.
“I’m just–” she bit her lip.
I braced myself, my brain already doing damage control. This would feel like shit, but ultimately, it was good. Necessary. Garrett was right. I had been playing with fire, and the match was burning low. If we kept up like this, both of us would go up in flames.
“--tired of feeling like your dirty little secret,” Lily burst out. “I love–” she clamped down hard on the last word.
Now my stomach tensed for a different reason. If she said it, things would change between us. They’d have to. She’d be breaking the unspoken rules of whatever this thing between us was. I should have cut her off, found a way to change the subject, but instead, I waited. Did I want her to say it? It didn’t make any fucking sense. If she did, I’d have to let her go. Wouldn’t I?
“I love being with you,” Lily redirected, her gaze flickering away for a moment before coming back to rest on mine earnestly. She slid her arms around my waist “I just wish it didn’t have to be something we hid.”
I pulled her in close, relief and something less tangible warring in my chest. I hadn’t fucking wanted her to say it. I hadn’t.
So why did I feel the same way I did when I walked away from a negotiation I hadn’t killed at? What was that gnawing dissatisfaction and conviction that I’d left something on the table about? I had a beautiful woman who I actually enjoyed being with, aside from when we were having sex, and better yet, there was an expiration date.
So what the hell was wrong with me?
22
LILY
I was so wrapped up in what was happening with Con that the rest of my life faded into a blur. I knew money was stacking up in my savings account, but I wasn’t doing a thing to prepare for law school otherwise, despite the stack of law books I’d brought with me to LA. Though Con had offered again to set me up with his friend Laura’s firm, I’d resisted. It didn’t matter that I couldn’t so much as walk into the office with him, it was enough that I knew he was there. And sometimes, when Angie went to lunch, we threw off our usual caution for a few minutes.
I had some idea that this wasn’t healthy, but I didn’t care. I’d prioritized my future my entire life. Now I was completely intoxicated by my present, and I couldn’t bring myself to look beyond it. For the first time, I was afraid of it. Not of law school–I knew that I could catch up–but of being without Con. It was October now, not that you’d know it by LA. Back in Ohio, the days would already be cold and gray. Here it was the land of perpetual summer, except that I always had a countdown in my head. We’d had one glorious month, but we only had eight left. It would pass in a flash, just like senior year had. And then…
My mind couldn’t go beyond it. It was like trying to imagine infinity. I couldn’t imagine an ending with Con anymore than I could imagine an endless universe. I focused on forgetting about time altogether–something that should have been easy enough to do in LA.