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It’s far too romantic for what I feel like I deserve. I’ve messed this up. Just like I messed everything else up.
“Are thoserose petals?” I can’t help a soft smile of disbelief at the crimson petals floating on the surface. “Did you put rose petals in the bathwater?”
“I told you I’d make it up to you.”
Graham bustles toward the door. “The remote on the tray connects to the sound system. It’ll play whatever you want, just scroll through the screen for the options.”
He’s drawn abathfor me.
“If you don’t want to talk, we can listen to music.”
I put the clothes on the towel shelf and look down at the steaming hot water. It looks like heaven although I may fall asleep in it, I’m so damn tired.
“Where did you get rose petals?” I whisper, and then decide to take him up on it.
The wine’s sweet and chilled, the water’s hot and soothing, and the music brings it all together. I expect him to follow me in, but when I sink fully in, he isn’t there.
The music is quiet enough that I can hear him moving around in the penthouse. A door opens and shuts. Low voices talk to one another. I watch the rose petals float across the surface of the tub. I feel awful for last night.
It’s all on the tip of my tongue. I didn’t really want him to go. I just didn’t know what else to say. I just wanted it all to stop.
With both hands, I splash the water on my face and attempt to just calm down. Suzette’s advice echoes in my head: calm down. Tell him when you’re calm.
She said it will be okay, but I don’t see how any of this is going to be okay.
I sip the wine until it’s gone and let the heat of the water take some of the ache out of my muscles. Whew. A girl really shouldn’t cry that hard if she doesn’t want to feel like crap all day.
When I’ve soakedup all the relaxation I can, he still isn’t in the tub.
I get out and dry off with one of Graham’s ridiculously fluffy towels. His initials are monogrammed on them in dark blue, like his stationery, and that makes me feel lighter for some reason. I think I just like the sight of his initials.
There’s an arrangement of glass dispensers on the counter with lotion that has the light scent of aloe, and I spend some time rubbing it into my skin, waiting for him, before I change into the clothes he’s brought.
Hemusthave had them here. But I don’t think he bought them today.
Did he have them here for me all along?
Did he want to ask me to stay and make it clear that he has everything I need?
I look much better in the mirror when I’m finished with the lotion. Last night was rough, and it showed on my face, but now my cheeks are pink from the bath and my eyes aren’t as red as they were. You can hardly tell I was crying.
I slip the robe over my shoulders, tie the belt in front, and go back out into the main penthouse, quietly, but not without calling out his name.
He doesn’t answer so I call out louder, “Graham?”
There’s music playing in the living room, and someone has set up a table with a white tablecloth in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows. Graham’s lighting a candle in the center as I pad up behind him.
I have to blink away the disbelief.
“You shouldn’t have done all this,” I say, more heat flooding my face. “After last night—”
“Yes, I should because I want to.” He finishes lighting the candle and smiles at me. “And because I wantyou.” It’s a shy, vulnerable smile, and he leans forward to kiss my forehead before he pulls out my chair and helps me into it.
Graham has unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt and rolled the sleeves up to his elbows, so I’m not the only one who’s made themselves more comfortable.
My mouth waters, looking at his forearms. There’s a deep need and a deep ache at the thought of lying in his arms.
It’s all I want. He pulls the chair out for me and I thank him, once again taken aback.
