After Alex has been waiting on me for two hours, I finally walk through the door around eight p.m. and find Alex in the kitchen. My apartment smells of garlic and herbs, and the scent is intoxicating. He sets the pan he’s leaning over onto the stove, comes over to help me out of my winter coat, and then hangs it in the closet along with my purse. I could get used to this side of Alex.
“Welcome home.” Pulling me into his arms, he kisses me on the cheek, as if this were our normal routine and he were my husband, making me dinner after I’d had a long day at the office. “I decided to order takeout from Luciano’s since I didn’t know how long you’d be.”
“I’m really sorry I ruined our—”
He silences me by saying, “Shh,” and presses his finger to my lips before he plants a kiss on them. “You didn’t ruin anything, sweetheart, so get that thought out of your head. This is actually better than eating at a restaurant.”
I return the smile that he’s wearing on his handsome face. “And why is that?”
“Because we can get right to dessert after we finish eating, and by dessert”—he stops to appraise my legs first, his eyes traveling up to my skirt and light-pink blouse, licking his lips once he reaches my chest, before he meets my gaze—“I mean, devouring every inch of your body with my tongue.”
I suck in a deep breath and let it out. My cell phone rings and interrupts our intense staring contest. “I’d better—”
“Nope, not tonight.” Alex takes it from my hand since it’s permanently glued to it and switches the ringer to silent. Then, he opens the drawer behind him, places it next to the silverware organizer, and closes it. “You’re all mine now. I’m not sharing you again until tomorrow.”
“You’re leaving tomorrow.”
He grabs me by the waist, steers me toward the kitchen island, and pulls out a chair for me, gesturing for me to sit. “Exactly. That’s why I’m banning you from any outside communication for the rest of the night.”
I lean my elbows onto the counter and watch him as he walks around to the other side to serve me.
“I hope you like chicken cacciatore.”
“Yeah, that sounds great,” I say with a smile.
As if he didn’t already look amazing on a normal day in track pants and a cutoff shirt, he’s wearing a pair of gray slacks that fit him as if a tailor had sewn them onto his perfect body. I might start to drool if I don’t stop myself from taking in the sight of his thick legs and tight ass in those pants. Rolled up to his elbows, the sleeves of his black oxford show off the definition in his forearms and hug his broad chest and shoulders. I have no idea how I’m going to make it through dinner because I want him right now.
I’m just an average-looking girl, nothing remotely special about me in terms of my appearance, and here I am with a man who could model underwear for Calvin Klein. Not only does he want to date me, but he’s also been sleeping in my bed at night, helping me to cope with my nightmares. I almost feel unworthy of him right now. Maybe this can work between us. Around me, he’s not the same guy the rest of the world knows. But I have my doubts.
He struts around the bar with our food in his hands, sets one plate in front of me, and then takes a seat next to me. “Eat up, Charlotte. You’ll need your strength for later.”
I gulp and choke down the nerves. This is going to be a long night.
Tonight marks my sixth night with Alex, and I still have no idea what I’ve gotten myself into by inviting him to stay with me for the week. My willpower evaporates every time Alex is within my airspace. The walls I’ve erected to protect myself crumble with each minute we spend together. I’ve already broken my rules for him. My life is about control and purpose, and that purpose is my clients and their careers. Alex is one of those clients I need to steer in the right direction.
What if this doesn’t work out between us, or even worse, what if Mickey finds out?
After Alex and I ate a fabulous meal together, the sexual tension thick between us, I managed to escape by excusing myself for a shower. He took a hint that I needed some space and retreated to his bedroom. With several deals on the table for my clients, I needed to focus on more than Alex’s career and my raging hormones.
Alex didn’t know that I had more than one cell phone when he hid mine in the silverware drawer. The gesture was cute, but I don’t think he understands how demanding this job is for me.
Between reading contracts and making calls at the office, I received an email from Mickey telling me that he was pleased with the outcome so far and that I needed to keep my eye on Alex as much as possible. He has no idea I have been helping Alex with his drinking problem by stashing him in my apartment. I’m not even sure Mickey would care as long as Alex continued to make it to practices and games on time and kept his face off the six o’clock news. But I do not want my boss to think something is going on between Alex and me. Except it’s too late for that because, whatever is between us, even I can’t fight, no matter how much I want to.
With Alex in his
room and the door shut, I assume he has fallen asleep, and I crash on the sectional couch in the living room. Just like Alex’s unused apartment, the room has high ceilings and a wall of windows that overlook the Camden Waterfront. I reach for the remote on the coffee table and then dim the recessed lighting to get a better view of the lights twinkling on the other side of the Delaware River.
I chose this building because of its location. The house I had grown up in, long before my parents turned to drugs, had a stunning view of the Michigan River. When I first saw this place, the realtor said it wouldn’t last long. She was right. And, since it reminded me so much of my childhood, the part of my life that I desperately clung to, even when times had been rough and my foster parents had treated me like their slave, I bought it on the spot.
Exhausted, I reach for the TV remote and start flipping through the channels, fighting off sleep. It’s only nine thirty, but the ache in my bones from staying up late again with Alex makes it feel like it’s well into the middle of the night. These nightmares have been a real bitch. I’m not sure how I’m going to sleep once he’s gone.
I don’t even hear his footsteps, oblivious to Alex watching me, until I see his shadow in the window. Startled, I look over at him, wondering why he hasn’t said anything, as if that’s not creepy.
He flexes his jaw. The strength behind his angular features and the effect they have on women are not lost on me. Bare-chested and dressed only in a pair of black boxer briefs, he walks toward me. Despite knowing each other for less than two weeks, he’s very comfortable in my house and acting is if we’ve lived together for months.
Without as much as an invitation, he plops down on the couch next to me. His hands shaking, he touches my thigh, resting his hand at the seam of my mesh shorts. If he were to kiss me again right now, I wouldn’t push him away, and that’s what scares me most. I should be the one to say no because this is wrong on so many levels, but I like him too much already, and I can tell something is wrong.
“Talk to me,” I say, placing my hand over his to steady his tremors. “Are you okay?”