I bit the inside of my lip to keep from retaliating. Sinking to her level of immaturity wasn’t something I planned to do.
“Jeanie,” Gus yelled from the assignment desk. “Vanessa is on the phone. She wants to read her package script you.”
My executive producer grimaced, glared at me one last time and went back to her desk. The day’s unscheduled middleweight fight may have concluded for now but I was heated. I ground my teeth so hard I feared I might break them.
“Don’t let her get to you.” Sydney’s soft voice floated through my consciousness. “We all know final approval rests with her and she missed it.”
“I don’t care about that,” I grumbled. “I’m just all set with everything right now.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie. If you need to vent or talk, let me know.”
Half smiling, I thanked her. Mercifully, the afternoon passed quickly and I escaped the newsroom without any additional unpleasantness. What I wanted most was to run but the humidity was so suffocating I could barely breathe. I kept a spare gym bag in the trunk of my car so I decided to head straight for the gym.
I managed to hop onto the last free elliptical. Churning my legs at what felt like warp speed, I pushed myself to the limit. Sweat poured off me in rivers even though I didn’t set any resistance on the machine. It whirred beneath my feet, carrying me nowhere but taking me away from all the frustration of the past few days. I made it a point not to dwell on Alastair’s departure and subsequent silence. I wasn’t the type of girl who was clingy or needed to know what he did every second of the day. I usually mocked people like that. But here I was, desperate to know why he’d left and if he was ever coming back.
I longed for a time when we could just be and not have obstacles thrown in our direction at every turn. Maybe this wasn’t meant to last. Maybe our relationship started too fast and we were clinging to one another because we didn’t know what else to do. I wasn’t even looking for this. My heart and soul had been sideswiped when he walked into my life.
A cold blast of air conditioning swept over my glistening skin forcing me to abandon my current thought process and come back to the present. Men and women of various shapes and sizes quietly worked out around me, each lost in their own private world. The clanging thud of weights and steady thumping of feet pounding on treadmills saturated the room. My quad muscles screamed for mercy, burning under my skin. Intent on going until I dropped, I ignored their impassioned pleas and pushed harder.
Turning to my jackass ex was the worst thing I could have done. I knew it from the start. I should have hung up on him when he called about the alleged exclusive interview. What a load of crap that turned out to be. All he did was trick me into believing that he wanted to change. I forced my legs to move faster. Idiot. I’m smarter than this. What the hell was I thinking?
Thick drops of perspiration landed in splotches on the digital monitor. A weird wheezing sound caught my attention. I looked around to see who was having trouble breathing. Oh Jesus. It’s me.
I slowed my pace, suddenly aware of how fatigued I’d become. I had zero strength left in my arms or legs. Fitting, seeing as how I had zero strength left when it came to my personal life. I grasped the metal handles to check my heart rate. It was well over one-hundred-seventy. Great. I’ll probably give myself a heart attack if I continue. I spent about five minutes cooling down so I wouldn’t collapse walking back to my car. I didn’t even bother showering at the gym. I just wanted to get home and put this day to bed.
Weaving through traffic proved relaxing in the oddest way. I turned up the radio and sang along with every song, even ones I didn’t like. By the time I pulled into my complex and parked, I felt a little better. Gross and sweaty, my only goal was to take a long, hot bubble bath. I walked into my apartment, dropping the gym bag in the living room. It was dark. I’d forgotten to leave the light on over the stove in the kitchen. The hairs on my arms stood up as I passed through the room. Glancing around quickly, I saw nothing but lumpy shadows. A funny rustling sensation tickled through my stomach. Apparently my anxiety was still hanging around. I turned on the stove light and went back to the living room, flipping on another light.
Stopping short, I clamped a hand over my mouth to keep from yelling. Sprawled out on my oversized couch was Alastair. He was fast asleep, his head bent at an uncomfortable angle into the cushion with an arm flung behind it. The other rested on his stomach. The gray hoodie he wore was unzipped and open, revealing a plain white t-shirt. One of his long denim-clad legs dangled over the edge of the couch. I stared at him for what felt like ages, watching his chest rise and fall in deep, measured breaths.
I didn’t know if I should be relieved or annoyed. He had disappeared for two days without saying a word. Stirring gently, a low moan vibrated in his throat. The sound quickened my pulse. The closer he came to waking up, the faster my body reacted to his close proximity. We were even breathing in unison. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he sat up slowly. Pieces of his hair stuck out in every direction. Bleary, exhausted emerald eyes met mine. He looked so worn out I forgot that I was supposed to be mad at him.
“Hello, love.” His voice was barely above a whisper. Fighting an urge to wrap myself around him, I forced a tiny smile. Noticing that I stood before him in running shorts and a spandex sports bra, he grinned. “You’re quite sporty.”
All the frustration I thought I’d run out of my body returned with a vengeance. “Where the hell have you been?”
He held my ice cold stare, steeling his expression. “London.”
“What? Why?”
Massaging the back of his neck, he shrugged. “I had to take care of something.”
“Oh no you don’t,” I yelled. “You will not answer me with this vague bullshit. You left without so much as saying one word. All I got was a text. A fucking text.”
“Amelia, calm down.”
“I will not calm down.” I paced the room, fully aware that I was coming apart at the seams.
He stood up, reaching for my hands. His touch was like a soothing balm, relaxing me almost instantly. Pulling me against his chest, he hugged me tightly. I wanted to stay angry. I wanted to give him a hard time for disappearing but I was so glad to see him. Secure within the warmth of his arms, I held onto him with all my might. He stroked my hair, whispering apologies as he buried his face against my neck.
Breaking our embrace, he placed his hands on either side of my face. Fatigue and stress ravaged his features. “I don’t deserve you,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t.”
The same desolation that stained his voice wrapped its fingers around my heart. He’s pushing me away again. He kept repeating how he didn’t deserve me in a low whisper.
“Stop,” I pleaded, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You do deserve me. I love you. Please don’t shut me out.”
Imprisoned by something only he could see, Alastair withdrew so far into himself I was left completely alone even though I held him in my arms. This had to be way beyond survivor’s guilt. I knew he blamed himself for his family’s death all those years ago but this had to be something bigger. The internal scars he kept covered were jagged and long. My love for him only eased the pain so much. I was so helpless, so useless. All I could do was touch him, let him know I’d be there even if he didn’t want me to.
“Come back to me,” I implored. “Whatever it is, we’ll fight through it together.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
A pitiful whine echoed through the room. I was wide-awake, unable to sleep. I’d finally convinced Alastair to come to bed with me but he found no refuge in slumber. Tension still had a strong hold on his face. Stretched out next to me, he rolled onto his stomach. Another soft moan filled the space between us.
“Don’t go, please,” he whimpered.
My heart broke, wondering if these nightmares would ever stop plaguing him. Lightly running my fingers down his back, I leaned close and kissed his cheek. It was damp with tears.
&
nbsp; “Stop. Fucking. Pitying. Me.”
I froze, stunned more by the harsh tone than his words. His lips curled into a snarl, his hand clenching the sheet tighter. Moving away slowly, I repositioned myself so as not to wake him.
I shuddered against the mattress. He doesn’t mean it. He’s dreaming. I watched his eyes dart from side to side beneath his lids, looking, searching for whatever haunted his dreams.
“You’re nothing. Get out. GET OUT.” He thrashed under the blankets, turning violently onto his back. I let go of the sheet, watching it twist and bunch in his hands. Shallow, harsh breaths parted his lips. Staring in disbelief, I climbed out of bed. This wasn’t the same dream I’d seen him have before. This was angry. Vengeful. Padding slowly out of my bedroom I sat on the couch.
Darkness and an acute sense of loss suffocated me. Hugging my knees to my chest, I strained to hear if he was still lashing out. Silence, thick and heavy, permeated through the apartment.
Alastair.
“Can’t sleep?”
His silky accent floated through the room. I drank in the beautiful silhouette standing gracefully in my living room. There was no malice. No harsh words. If anything, he surveyed me with caution.
“No. I guess not.”
Moving closer, he clutched his stomach. Outdoor lights seeped through the blinds, deepening the shadows of worry and confusion carved in his face.
“I woke you with another nightmare, didn’t I?”
Our eyes locked, a fission of electricity spurring my heart. He knew. He knew this one was different.
“Sit with me,” I said.
Not taking his eyes off me, he sat to my right. I ran my knuckles down his cheek, a gesture he’d so adoringly showered on me time after time. He nuzzled into my hand, kissing the palm, moaning softly.
“I didn’t mean it,” he whispered. “Whatever I said, it wasn’t aimed at you.”
Tracing my thumb along his mouth, I leaned in and kissed him. His lips were still salty from the tears. “I know.” My insides trembled. “You can tell me about it, if you want.”
The intensity behind his verdant eyes nearly illuminated the room. Any traces of vulnerability slid away, replaced by a fierce, controlled stare. Locking his fingers through mine, he pulled me off the couch and led me to the bedroom. Collapsing on the bed together, he wrapped his body around me like a vine.
“I need you,” he murmured, pressing his fingers into the small of my back.
“You have me,” I said, running my hand through his hair. “Get some sleep.”
Sighing heavily, he relaxed into my arms.
* * *
I put up no fight when Alastair announced Paxton would be driving me to and from work for the rest of the week mostly because I was exhausted and he had morphed into über bossy mode. He’d defrosted from last night’s events but that impenetrable shield was padlocked. I sipped on my coffee while he finished getting dressed. Emerging from the bedroom in a ridiculously expensive chocolate brown suit, he grinned. If quiet control and power could be bottled up, wrapped in lavish clothes and given a face, this was it. From that gorgeous head of dark red hair down to his designer shoes, he was perfection. The obnoxious beating of my heart vibrated to my toes.
“Jesus,” I muttered.
“Like what you see, love?”
“Smart ass.” A small smile played on my lips as I drank more coffee. Moving with the speed of a cheetah, he caged me against the counter. I nearly dropped the mug.
“You can’t smile at me like that and expect it not to drive me crazy.”
“You’re awfully frisky this morning, chief.”
He nuzzled his nose into my hair. “You’re awfully sexy this morning, kitten.”
“Too bad we’re all dressed up with places to go.”
Veiled eyes darted over my body, settling on the hem of my sundress. “I could take you on this counter.” He lazily dragged his finger up my inner thigh. Normally, I enjoyed when he came on strong but this was different. He was detached, going through the motions of seducing me without any feelings behind them. I was basically being eye-fucked by a hot guy in a three-piece suit.
“Maybe later.” I wiggled out of his arms. “Do you have a permanent office in the WTDO building yet? They must love having to be on their best behavior all the time.”
“They’re letting me use the supply closet. It’s small but quiet.”
“British humor again?” I smirked.
He lifted an eyebrow, ushering me to the door. We walked out to the waiting SUV together. I covered his hand with my own after we settled into the backseat. The muscle in his jaw twitched.
“I want us to go away for a couple days. I have to be in New York on Monday so I thought we’d spend the weekend in Manhattan.”
Stunned, I looked at him. “Really?”
“Yes. I think getting out of Orlando will do us both good.”
I liked the idea but wasn’t a fan of his chilly demeanor. Red flags popped up in my head. There was obviously something he wanted to keep me away from. Glancing in my direction, he frowned.
“You don’t approve?”
“It’s fine. Just a little out of the blue, no?”
“Do you have plans otherwise?”
“I was supposed to help Stephanie pack but she hired movers to do all that for her. I guess I’m free.”
Straightening his spine against the seat, he smoothed down his tie. “Brilliant. We’ll fly out Saturday morning.”
“Is there a specific reason why you have to be in New York next week?” Sometimes words fell out of my mouth before I could tell my brain to corral them.
Keeping his eyes locked on the back of Paxton’s head, Alastair shrugged slightly. I was beginning to dislike that little shrug. “Work. I need to be in the main offices for some meetings.”
“Sounds magical,” I grumbled.
The SUV rolled to a stop in front of my building. Paxton got out, presumably to give us some privacy. Alastair sat in stony silence for a few seconds. I had no desire to go to work but I also dreaded staying in this car one minute longer.
“See you later,” I said, reaching for the handle.
“Wait.”
The gravelly command halted me. His eyes flashed behind the veil.
“We need this weekend, Amelia. No interruptions. Just you and me.” He brushed his knuckles on my cheek, sending a shiver through me. “I need to make this right.”
Confused, I climbed onto his lap. Straddling him, I titled his chin up so he had no choice but to look me in the eye. Not saying a word, we communicated the only way we knew resonated with us both - by touching one another. Holding me with restrained passion, his cloaked eyes brightened as I stroked his tie. Little by little, pieces of the shield fell away revealing the unguarded man who melted my heart. The world bustled outside the tinted windows but as far as I was concerned we were in our own universe, alone and entwined.
“I could stay like this all day.”
Leaning my forehead to his, I smiled. “Ditto, love.”
“Dinner tonight?”
“Are you offering to make it?”
He cupped my backside, squeezing gently. “I’m offering to feed you. I seem to remember you liking when I did that.”
I flushed at the memory of him feeding me chocolate bread pudding. We’d barely known each other at the time but the act had been so intimate it stuck with me. I still haven’t been able to enjoy dessert properly since. A satisfied grin spread across his stunning mouth.
“Go to work, kitten, before I decide to keep you here.”
Giving my behind one last squeeze, he released me. I climbed out of the SUV and waved goodbye to Paxton. I felt a zillion times better than I did last night. I was almost to the studio door when I heard my name called.
“You are so difficult to pin down.” Rachel Jameson’s perky voice cut right through my good mood. “Figured I’d catch you before you disappeared in there.”
Her bright smile lit up the lobb
y. I mentally prepared myself for the battle of wits I was about to join.
“Do you want to come into the newsroom? There’s a conference room we could use.”
“I don’t have that much time. I’m due at a press conference in twenty minutes for the performance enhancing drug scandal at the university.” She looked at me curiously. “I was wondering if we could meet for coffee later, after you’re done with the evening show. There’s a little shop right down the street.”
I nearly rolled my eyes at her using the phrase ‘press conference’ when I knew quite well she’d be camped outside the locker room, chasing down anybody willing to give a sound bite.
“I have plans tonight. Sorry.”
She grabbed my arm as I turned on my heel. “Listen,” she said under her breath, “I need to talk to you. There’s some weird shit happening and I’m stuck in the middle of it all.”
A sense of urgency streaked through her vivid eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t want to get into it here.”
Fed up with any vague or cryptic answers, I laughed bitterly. “Look. I’m sorry. I can’t.” I swiped my badge in front of the detector and walked into the newsroom.
The morning passed by swiftly enough. When lunch rolled around Sydney and I decided to make a quick run to the smoothie shop at the corner.
“Peanut Butter Banana or MangoMadness?” she asked.
“I think I’ll go with the high protein chocolate one today.”
She placed the orders and we sat at a table in the back corner to wait. This shop was one of our favorite lunchtime haunts. Most days we sat at our desks but on the rare occasion when it was slower than normal we allowed ourselves to have at least thirty minutes away from the newsroom. I liked watching the different types of people come and go. Tourists were the easiest to spot. They moved slower and most had that glazed it’s-so-hot-outside look. There were several art museums in the downtown area as the city did have more to offer than theme parks and International Drive.
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