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“Like where? Here, Asher? Come on.” I raised my hands in the air and he helped me to stand, leaning against his side for support. My breaths grew steadier, but my hands did not. “Asher, I mean that place, I needed to be warned. You know how screwed up Grey made me. The shit-show I went through with that man, and I just fucking ran from Tate, with no explanation. I said I’d give him a chance.”
I dropped on the sofa next to him and let the tears flow. I couldn’t stop them as they cascaded down my face as I let reality, and the fear I felt of men, intertwine.
That apartment block held memories of my time with Grey. The time we’d been together before I left and what he did. His reactions and his temper and the way it could’ve so easily been unleashed on me instead of a vase or a plate. Coincidental I know, but was life telling me I had to run away from Tate Hillside, or into his arms? At the moment I didn’t know what I felt, except that to trust someone else not to break my fragile heart was a huge risk. Would I let Tate be the man to do so?
That’s if I hadn’t already blown it. Asher’s crestfallen face stared back at me as he pulled me into his arms and rubbed my back in comfort. He always hated when I was emotional, and tears appeared. It was like it was a plague to him. He was unsure how the hell he should tread around me.
“Asher, what do I do?” I sniffed back. “I’ve blown everything.”
He chuckled as I pulled back and gave him my best death stare.
“Sorry, it’s just if you think that will deter Tate, then you’re more stupid than I thought,” he uttered as he wiped the tears from my cheeks. “You’ve probably just made him even more determined. You, my little sister, had better prepare yourself because that man is obsessed with you. Trust me.”
“Trust, that’s a joke,” I huffed as I stood up and straightened my dress. “I don’t trust.”
“Well, you need to start because Tate is not Grey. I’m not Grey. Dad is not Grey. Not all men can be tarnished to his standards.” He stood up and towered above me. “Sutton, some men enjoy being jerks and yes, some men are players but all it takes is one person – one woman – to change someone. I mean this, stop for once and open your eyes. Tate Hillside is a different man – yours – if you just let him in.”
“And if I don’t?” I whispered.
“Then, dear sister, I can’t wait for the show. I’ve got my popcorn ready because I tell you, Tate Hillside will not let you go.”
I gave Asher a kiss on the cheek and left the room before he gave me anything else to think about. He was right. I knew it. I was the one with insecurity issues and for once I knew that, at the moment, my life was my business. That wasn’t quite true, because at the moment one thing didn’t exist: someone to share it with; Tate.
* * *
I’d spent the whole morning moving my belongings next door, not to a new room but the apartment next door to Asher’s. It had become available last week, and I couldn’t resist having my own space. I was finally putting down those roots.
The place was scattered with boxes across the floor, but I didn’t care. They could wait, I thought, as I put my phone on the coffee table and sat on the sofa. The only two pieces of furniture in the correct places in the room. I’d spent the last twenty minutes rummaging in boxes in search of a kettle, determined I wasn’t going to go back to Asher’s to make a cup of tea. Instead, I discovered the bottle of malt whisky and my thoughts flooded to the man I hadn’t seen since the night at Piccolo’s.
Space. I thought that’s what I needed. What he’d interpreted from my actions, but in my warped mind I missed him. I wasn’t about to tell him that though.
I took the bottle and poured myself a glass before a knock at the door disturbed me.
“Asher, I’m exhausted.” I stood up with the glass in my hand to open the door and my mouth went dry.
“My favourite, how did you guess?”
Tate walked in; my mouth was unable to formulate words as I stepped backwards, and I hit the hard surface of a worktop. He placed my glass down to the far side and wrapped both my arms around his neck. He placed a gentle kiss on my neck, and his hands on my ass as he lifted me onto the surface.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he growled as he held my body pinned to the surface, “and I’m not going anywhere; you’re not going anywhere.”
He grabbed the loose curls that had fallen onto my face with one hand and took a step closer. His erect cock pushed against my core as he moved his other hand to my neck and pulled my mouth towards his.
He teased my lips slowly as he covered my mouth with his. Gentle nips and licks as he traced the outline slowly, his hands roamed my skin as my nipples began to pebble under the thin cotton t-shirt I had on.
“Tate…” I moaned against his mouth. His tongue begged access and he delved inside with slow lavish intent before he pulled away and left me with the delicious taste of him: whisky.
“How was that? Not scared you enough to make you run?” Tate replied with a cocky wink as he rubbed himself against my core and I rubbed my fingers along my bottom lip.
“No.” I giggled. “Actually, I wondered wheremycocky arrogant man had gone.” His mouth dropped open and I pushed his chest so he’d take a step backward. “I think I better go and freshen up.”
I jumped down and blew him a kiss as I made sure to wiggle my hips to the bathroom.
I definitely needed five minutes to myself. To calm myself.
Chapter12
Tate
