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“Come on, let me show you around. I want you to feel at home here.” The seed has been planted, and now I just need it to flourish so she will stay here with me. Guiding her through the open-concept space, we pass the state-of-the-art kitchen with stainless steel appliances and sleek black countertops. A pang of guilt hits me; I rarely cook for myself, relying on take-out or something thrown together from the mostly empty fridge. But with Summer here, I suddenly want to make her feel cared for in every way possible and make a note to order some groceries as soon as I get the chance.
“Over there’s the dining area,” I continue, gesturing towards a long glass table surrounded by high-backed leather chairs. “And this is the living room.” Plush sofas face a massive flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, while an elegant living-flame fireplace dominates one corner.
“Let me show you the bedrooms,” I murmur, leading her down a long hallway lined with doors. I pause before the main suite, hesitating for a moment before pushing the door open.
“Here’s where I sleep,” I say quietly, allowing her to enter. The king-sized bed dressed in crisp white linens has a mountain of pillows. Aching to see her in my bed, I clear my throat and gesture awkwardly to the floor-to-ceiling windows that offer a breathtaking view of the city skyline while a soft rug covers the hardwood floor.
“Nice.”
Watching her explore my world, I reflect on my feelings for her. My heart races whenever she’s near, and I ache to hold her close—but admitting that I’m falling in love with her? That terrifies me more than any rival or threat ever could.
“Is there... somewhere I can sleep?” she asks hesitantly, glancing back at me.
Narrowing my eyes, I smile. “Of course. There’s a guest room just down the hall.” I guide her to another door, revealing a smaller but still luxurious bedroom decorated in soft blues and grays.
“Will this be okay?” I ask, trying to gauge her reaction.
She nods, sending me a small smile that lights up the room. “It’s perfect, thank you.”
She moves around the room, her eyes taking in every detail. The way she moves, the way she breathes – it’s all so captivating. I’m falling for her in a way that I can’t explain, and it scares the hell out of me.
“Is there anything else you need?”
She turns to face me, her eyes meeting mine. “Just you.”
Without thinking, I step towards her, closing the space between us. She meets me halfway, and I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close.
“I’m here,” I whisper, my lips brushing against the crook of her neck. “I’ll always be here.”
As the storm rages on outside, we stay wrapped in each other’s arms, and for the first time in as long as I can remember, my ravaged soul starts to heal.
31
SUMMER
Ciarán’s arms wrapped around me after this godawful day soothes me. There is no part left telling me to run. And even if there were, I’d ignore it. I want him. I want to be with him. I want to love him and tell him that he is safe now as well. But right now, being held by him is calming my raging nerves about being here.
We’ve both been tentative around each other until now, uncertain of how to proceed with our relationship. But despite my lack of experience in serious relationships, there’s no doubt in my mind that what I have with Ciarán is special – something I’ve never felt before.
Pulling away as my nerves get the better of me, I smile shyly and take his hand. “Can we just sit for a bit?”
“Yeah.” His voice is hoarse, and his eyes are hooded. I know he wants to jump into the sack, but I’m not doing that.
Yet.
We will get there shortly, and when we do, it will bemyway. Not his. He has to learn that sex and power don’t go hand-in-hand.
“Make yourself comfortable,” he says softly, leading me back into the living room and gesturing towards the soft leather couches that dominate the living area.
“Thanks,” I reply, trying to shake off my nervousness. Our eyes meet for a brief moment, and I can see the same uncertainty mirrored in his blue gaze. It seems neither of us is sure of what comes next, but one thing is clear – we’re both willing to try.
Taking a seat on the sofa, sinking into its welcoming embrace. Ciarán sits beside me, with just enough distance between us to maintain our tentative boundaries.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
“Water would be nice, thank you.”
He nods, his movements fluid and graceful as he crosses the room.
