AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Tears stream down my face, and my glasses fog. Every cold word he’s uttered, every glare he’s offered, the indifference Steven showed when I found out about the affair, Steven’s attempt at groveling, my mother’s words…everything hits me all at once and I break down. “Gracie, baby, please, what can I do?” Cash whispers against my hair as his fingers stroke my back.
For a few treasured moments I allow myself to be held. To lose myself in his familiar scent, to lean upon his strong frame, and pretend for just a moment that I’m not alone in this world and that the one person whose solace I seek can be mine.
Cash lifts my chin between his fingers and forces me to meet his eyes. “Angel, tell me what to do? How can I make this better? Please,” his eyes plead with me as his mouth whispers promises against my own.
Aggravated that I can’t have him, that my baggage makes this entire relationship untenable, that I never can find the right words to express myself, I whisper back a plea, “Pick someone. End this. Pick someone so I don’t have to do this anymore.”
Cash closes his eyes and clenches his jaw. When he opens them again I see only fury. “You think I don’t want to be touching someone else right now? Thinking about someone else? I can’t touch anyone else because all I think about is you! Last week, the blonde, she was so into me she practically threw herself at me. And she was nice. My family would have loved her. But I couldn’t touch her without drinking. You saw me. I was downing drink after drink. Not because I wanted to have a good time. But because I couldn’t touch her without thinking about you.” His voice gets louder the angrier he gets.
Cash grabs my chin and stares at me. “Find me someone I can touch. Find me someone who turns me into fucking lava like you do. Please, find me a woman that makes me feel half of what I feel for you, and I swear, Grace, I’ll pick her. I’ll give you what you want. Your promotion. Your fucking marriage. Whatever you want.”
He pulls away, panting, leaving my cheeks cold and my heart pounding. A growl escapes from his mouth as he scrapes his hands through his hair. “Put me out of my misery, Grace, and find me someone so I can stop looking at a married woman like she’s the only thing I’ll ever want, because you’ve made it abundantly clear that I can’t have you.”
Cash pants as he looks down at me, but I’m rendered speechless. I’ve never had someone feel so much. Express themselves so grandly. Care so much that it’s scary.
When I bite my lip to keep from begging him to pick me, he shakes his head. I turn around, unable to return his gaze. I need to get out of here, I need to get away from him…but I can’t make myself walk away.
“Cash,” I whisper, facing the door and trying to keep my voice even. Trying to keep the emotion out of my words.
He moves closer, until I can feel his warm breath against my neck as he says, “Turn around, please.”
I shake my head.
His forehead goes to the back of my neck, and I feel him sigh and then breathe me in. “This isn’t working.”
I nod, keeping myself rigid and trying so hard not to lean into him. How is it that someone I barely know has become the one person who can make everything feel better? Or so much worse.
“I need you. Please turn around.” There is something so vulnerable in his voice. In the way he’s leaning against me. I remember his words in Florida about his job—about how it wasn’t his choice–how he didn’t want it. I remember the tortured look in his eyes, the sadness, over having to take over, and I can’t help myself, I turn around to see if the same look plagues his whiskey eyes.
It should be surprising to see so much emotion on his face. It should be impossible to read someone I’ve only known for a little over a month. We shouldn’t be the person that the other is looking to for comfort. But when he looks down at me, and his eyes are pools of hope, and his lip turns up in a half smile, I can’t help it. I want to be that person for him. I want to be his safe space.
“Please, Grace, tell me what you want.”
I want to whisper I want you, but my situation hasn’t changed.
“It doesn’t matter what I want,” I reply instead.
He leans his forehead against mine.“It matters to me.”
“Your job,” I try.
“Screw my job, Grace. Do you care about me? Was it real? Was any of it real? When I was on a date with Vanessa she asked me the last time I was happy, and I knew without a doubt it was with you. It didn’t matter what we were doing—snorkeling, eating dinner, dancing beneath the stars…Hell, watching you read a book. I could have done that for days and been happy. When I was with you I felt alive. Just tell me…was it all me? Or did you feel it too? Do you feel it too?”
The dam bursts and words fall from my mouth. “Of course, I feel it. How could I not feel it? I can’t breathe when we’re in the same space, can’t think, and certainly can’t focus on anything other than you. You’re like a sunset after a rainy day—unexpected and so beautiful that it takes a minute to realize that you’re real. I want to sit down and enjoy you, but I forgot to bring the wine and cheese.”
A chuckle escapes his mouth at my absurdity. “How about I bring the whiskey and we forget the food?”
I laugh and my eyes close in happiness. I never have the right words and yet it’s like I’m his favorite book. He gets me in a way no one ever has.
Cash cradles my cheeks, holding me like I’m porcelain, like we are the only two people in the world, like I’m everything to him. “Gracie, please,” he whispers as he lowers his lips to mine, asking permission, no, begging for permission, to kiss me.
Giving in, I move onto my tiptoes and slide my arms around his neck, pulling him to me, and our lips come together. His tongue swipes against my lips and I grant him more access, losing myself completely in this moment. I can’t tell you how long we stand there kissing—how long we hold one another and forget the outside world—but every millisecond that I’m with Cash, that I’m in his arms and touching him, breathing him in, escaping from reality, is a stolen moment that I don’t want to give back.
Someone opens the closet door and offers a surprised, “Excuse me,” then shuts the door in embarrassment. I laugh into his mouth, and he smiles against mine.
I raise my eyes to his and see the lines around his eyes are crinkled, and he wears a look of genuine happiness. The kind of happy I haven’t seen on him since we were lying in bed in Florida. It’s beautiful, and I hate that I don’t get to see that face more often. “Cash, you have to get back to your date.”
He sighs and turns his cheek into mine, grazing against it softly, sending a shiver down my spine. “You’re the only one I want to date.”
