Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 41687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
Guilt sat heavily on my chest, and dread ran sluggishly in my veins.
“No, I…” I swallowed. “I don’t think… I mean, I know this isn’t for me. This isn’t what I want.”
A little crinkle formed between his eyebrows. “I get that you’re upset about the flash mob. I didn’t mean to embarrass you with a public display—”
“It’s not that—” I tried explaining.
“—but that doesn’t mean we can’t get married. We’ll go home and talk about it. Make plans for what you do want.”
He was being so reasonable. So nice. Somehow, it made me even angrier. I didn’t even like him referring to my place as home.
It wasn’t his home. It was mine.
“I don’t want to get married,” I began, but before I could explain, he interrupted me again.
“Fine, then we don’t have to get married right away. We can wait a little while.”
“No!” I said sharply enough to get everyone else’s attention. I cringed when heads snapped in our direction. “I’m sorry, but no. Thank you for everything. And I do care about you, but this—today—has made me realize that’s not enough. I never thought there could be such a thing as caring about someone but not enough. But… but that’s how I feel. I don’t want to marry you.”
Tears began to roll down my cheeks, making me even colder. “I’m so sorry,” I added again. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
He didn’t look upset as much as confused. “I don’t understand. My proposing was enough to make you suddenly want something different?” His eyes narrowed. “Is there someone else?”
I wanted to laugh, to tell him that he’d hardly given me enough time and space recently to even be able to meet up with someone else for coffee, much less fucking. But what was the point?
The rage inside of me suddenly turned cold and hard as I realized the truth. “Yes.”
And then I turned around and went in search of the person who’d just ruined my life by setting my bar way too fucking high.
Kittredge motherfucking Evers.
7
KIT
Rajiv poked his face into my office. I fully expected him to announce he was leaving for the night to meet Morris for a Valentine’s celebration. Instead, his eyes were wide and his expression semi-panicked. “Robbie’s on his way up.”
I blinked at him while the words tried to compute. “My Robbie?”
“What other Robbie do we know? He’ll be here in—”
The sound of the elevator interrupted him. “Robbie, hi!” Rajiv’s voice sounded thready and pitched, as if he were greeting a rabid monkey who was waving a machete around. When Robbie appeared in my doorway, I could see why.
He was radiating anger. Flushed face, dark eyes, ticking jaw, and clenched fists.
“Bab—” I stopped myself. “Robbie? Are you okay?”
“No.”
Rajiv winced and waved. “G’night. I’m headed out, and everyone else is already gone. Setting your glass to privacy, so, uh… godspeed.”
Within microseconds, he was gone. I pushed back from my desk and stood as Robbie shoved my office door closed, and all the interior glass windows turned opaque, leaving only the exterior ones clear. “Can I get you anything? A drink? Something to eat?”
Robbie stood and glared at me, and I took the excuse of waiting for his response to drink in the sight of him. He was fucking glorious, even in his anger. Healthy, face filled out and strength visible in the way he held himself. He looked a little tired but otherwise as stunning as ever.
God, I’d fucking missed him. It had been three months since I’d seen him in person. We’d been at the same black-tie event, where he’d accepted a Lifetime Achievement award on behalf of his father. Even though we’d been seated at the same table, he’d done his best to limit our interactions to awkward small talk. Fortunately for me, Nadine had seen him a lot more frequently since she was good friends with his boyfriend’s family. She’d carried the conversation for both of us until I’d finally left in utter hopelessness.
I’d tried to talk to him several times after the funeral, but he’d insisted he was fine. We were fine. Everything was fine. Then he’d spent months ignoring my periodic check-ins and polite inclusion in social events.
And now, here he was.
“I’m not here for your food, and the last thing I need right now is alcohol,” he snapped.
I came around my desk and propped my ass on it, doing my best to remain calm. Whatever he needed, I would give him. Even though he’d avoided me for a year, had fallen in love with his perfect boyfriend just as I’d hoped he would, my feelings for Robbie were stronger than ever. I loved him. Was in love with him. Would salt the earth if it would give him a moment’s ease.
“What can I do for you?”
Robbie paused, took in a deep breath, and then blew it out before shucking off his coat. “You can fuck me,” he said, as calmly as if he’d changed his mind about a drink. “You can put me over your desk and fuck me until I can’t remember my fucking name.”