Yes, I have to push myself to figure out what I’m going to do after I leave Darkwater Hollow. The only way I can get through the next few months without getting too wrapped up in that man is if I can stay focused on my future and remember that whatever is happening with Rowan and me is temporary.
I won’t make the same mistake I made with Brett. I won’t buy into a fantasy of something serious with Rowan only to have it ripped away from me. I know better.
I have to be ready to leave when the time’s right. I’ll be the one walking away.
By the time I make it back to the house, I’m calmer, more centered. I feel like I can let myself have this time with Rowan as long as I have my exit plan in place.
Inside the house, I go in search of him. I find him in the bedroom, still in bed.
Propping my shoulder against the doorframe, I can’t resist soaking all of him in.
My eyes trace over the rounded shapes of his biceps, the washboard abs, the V that disappears beneath the sheet that’s bunched around his hips… He’s a masterpiece. A masterpiece I get to enjoy until I leave.
Shouldn’t that be enough? I won't ruin it by longing for something more.
“Why are you up so early?”
I glance at his face. He’s awake, looking at me with hooded, sleepy eyes.
I smile, hoping the pang of sadness in my chest isn’t reflected on my face. “Early? It’s past ten. Aren’t you late for work?”
A lazy grin tugs on his lips. “I told Sam I’m not coming in today. Come back to bed, baby.”
And so I do exactly that.
CHAPTER 31
NERO
I can’t get enough of this woman.
In meetings, I’m hopeless. Our clients’ words might as well be meaningless babble. Sandro pulls me aside and tells me to wake the fuck up because my new reputation as a committed boyfriend won’t be enough to save us if I’m mentally checked out.
When I’m not in meetings, I’m with her.
On Wednesday, I get as far as the front door of the office before I press her against the building and kiss her until we’re both panting.
On Thursday, I call her into my office for lunch, roll up my sleeves, and make a meal of her on top of my desk.
On Friday, I tell her we’re going to look at some paint samples, but we only make it as far as my truck before I pull her onto my lap and fuck her in the parking lot.
Saturday is blissful. There are no distractions and no interruptions. We stay in my bed for most of the day, insatiable to the point of absurdity. We order pizza and feed it to each other, and in the evening, we curl up on the couch and watch her favorite movies.
Her laugh makes my chest ache. I want to record it and play it back over and over again. The thoughts running through my head feel like they belong to a different man, or maybe this is just what it feels like to fall for someone. You lose old parts of yourself to make room for newer, better ones.
When Sunday morning rolls around, I find myself thinking of reasonable excuses I could give Sandro for not showing up tomorrow. I’m a terrible partner, a terrible boss. I used to be so fucking responsible when I was running shit in New York, and now look at me. I’m a fucking mess.
Blake’s snuggled against me, her cheek pressed to my chest, one leg and one arm thrown over my body.
She wakes up with a loud yawn. Her eyes meet mine, and a happy smile tugs on her lips. She props her chin on top of my hand and whispers, “Hi.”
“Hey. Sleep well?”
Keeping our eyes locked, she presses a kiss to my chest. “Like a baby. You?”
I haven’t had a single bad dream since we started sharing this bed. “I always get great sleep after a good bout of cardio.”
She snickers, and a blush colors her cheeks.
