Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 106090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
That’s the part that scares me most. Not that he found me, not that he’s watching, but that some treacherous part of my body still responds to him like no time has passed at all. Like I’d let him back in if he asked. Like I’d forget everything I’ve built and everyone I’ve become just to feel that intensity again.
I can’t let that happen. I won’t.
We stare at each other across thirty feet of snowy pavement. I don’t move toward him and he doesn’t move toward me. Neither of us speaks. What would we even say?
He gives me that half-smile I used to love, the one that always meant he knew something I didn’t. But there’s no mischief behind it tonight. Just tired recognition, like he’s been waiting a long time for this moment and now that it’s here, he doesn’t know what to do with it either.
Then he turns and walks away, disappearing around the corner like smoke.
I let out a long breath and my shoulders drop. My hands are shaking inside my coat pockets, and my heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat.
That could have been a confrontation. That could have been answers.
Instead it was just two people acknowledging a shared history and agreeing, without words, that neither of them is ready to deal with it yet.
The walk up to my apartment takes forever. My legs feel like they’re filled with sand, and my brain won’t stop cycling through questions I don’t have answers to. What does he want? Why now? What changed?
I’m supposed to be getting ready for dinner at Knox’s place. I’m supposed to be putting on something that makes his jaw drop, maybe that black dress with the low back, definitely those silver earrings he bought me at the market. I’ve been thinking about tonight since he asked me last night, imagining being alone with him in his space, finally crossing the line we’ve been dancing around since the kiss.
But I can’t do it. Not tonight. Not with Liam’s face burned into my retinas and my past clawing at the edges of everything I’ve tried to build.
Knox will know something’s wrong. He always knows. The man reads people like most humans read stop signs, automatically and without effort. One look at my face and he’ll start asking questions, gentle at first and then more insistent, because that’s who he is. He protects. He investigates. He doesn’t let things go.
And what am I supposed to tell him? Hey, funny story, before I was Sloane’s assistant I was a professional jewel thief. My ex-boyfriend and I stole a twenty-million-dollar diamond from a Russian oligarch with connections to some very scary people, and we hid it in the Canadian wilderness as a retirement plan, and apparently my ex has decided that five years of radio silence is enough and now he’s stalking me through Brooklyn. Also, I’m pretty sure I’m still attracted to him, which is super inconvenient given that I’m falling for you.
Yeah. That conversation would go great.
I pull out my phone and stare at the screen for a long moment before I start typing.
I’m so sorry but I need to cancel tonight. Not feeling well. Can we reschedule?
The reply comes almost instantly.
What’s wrong?
I chew my lip, trying to figure out how much to say. Lying to Knox feels wrong in a way I can’t quite articulate, like I’m betraying something precious before it even has a chance to grow. But the truth isn’t an option either. Not yet. Not until I figure out what Liam wants and whether my past is about to detonate my present.
Just a headache. Long day. I think I need to sleep it off.
Three dots appear. Disappear. Appear again.
Do you need anything? I can bring soup. Or medicine. Or just sit with you.
God, this man. This ridiculous, overprotective, impossibly sweet man is offering to bring me soup because I have a fake headache. Meanwhile I’m lying through my teeth about who I really am.
No, I’ll be okay. Just need rest. I’m sorry to bail on you.
A pause. Then:
Get some rest. I’m not far if you need me.
He’s not asking permission. He’s just letting me know. And I should probably find that invasive, but all I feel is relief. If Knox is nearby, Liam will keep his distance. Whatever conversation we need to have, whatever reckoning is coming, it won’t happen while I have a six-foot-three former Marine watching over me. I’m not ready to face my past yet, and Knox’s obsessive protectiveness might be the only thing keeping it at bay.
Thank you. For understanding.
Always. Feel better, Hailey.
I set the phone down and move through the apartment on autopilot, checking windows, testing locks, yanking curtains closed like they’ll protect me from whatever’s coming.
The dried roses catch my eye when I pass through the kitchen. Still hanging in the window where I put them weeks ago, preserved because I thought they were romantic. Because I assumed Knox had left them and I wanted to hold on to that gesture.