Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75481 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75481 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“Come here,” I said, pulling him into a tight embrace. “It’s okay.”
And then I held him the way he needed to be held. Like he’d been falling apart for far too long and needed a soft place to land, and I wanted to be that for him so badly.
We lay down after a while with our limbs tangled, just breathing the same air, and soon enough, I felt his body relax as he fell into such a deep sleep that he was even snoring. I smiled, watching him.
And as if that ache in his chest had been transferred to me, as if I had taken on the burden of it, my heart suddenly felt too big for my body, like I could float away with the swell of it.
This man had left me undone in a way I wasn’t sure I’d recover from. Like he’d rearranged my insides, and my heart now throbbed on the outside of my body.
Only for him.
And that was when I knew I was in love with Rowan Abernathy. But being with him would be next to impossible because he might never allow it. Even now, after all this. My stubborn sartorial lover.
I didn’t know how much time had passed as we drifted in and out of sleep, but when I shifted and our cocks rubbed together, he groaned and tightened his hold on me.
“Shae,” he whispered. “The way you smell and feel against me. I just want…fuck, I shouldn’t want it.”
“If we both want it, then what’s the harm? Why can’t we see where this leads? Maybe it could be really good.” My heart swam to my throat, hoping against hope.
“I’m sorry I can’t give you what you deserve.” His breath stuttered. “I won’t allow myself to—”
“Forget I said anything. No need to spell it out again.” My stomach ached with too much longing. “Just let go, for old times’ sake…one last time.” I rocked against him because I wanted it too. Even though it would hurt. “It’ll feel good.”
So we touched and kissed and rutted against each other, eventually peeling off our clothes as we dragged it out, some moments with frantic urgency, others luxuriously slow. It was nearly torturous as he gazed into my eyes, his soft breaths against my skin, as our lips rarely broke contact. This time felt different, like a sublime reckoning between us, and I ached with the reality of that.
And this, the sharing of the same intimate airspace, made me feel overwhelmingly vulnerable to him. Connected too, and given the bald need in his eyes, he felt the same way. At least, I hoped he did.
Our foreheads rested together as I wrapped my hand around our shafts and pumped us into oblivion.
“Shae,” he breathed in a rough voice as we both lost our loads, our come mixing on his stomach.
After I cleaned us up, he drifted back into a quiet slumber. I watched him for a while longer before covering him with a blanket and letting myself out, knowing it would be worse if I prolonged the departure.
When I got home, I could hear Casey and Paul tucked away behind his bedroom door, and though I was happy for them, the sting of loneliness was fiercer.
Stumbling out of my clothes, I fell into bed and went to sleep.
25
The following week was so busy that the end of the show season sneaked up on us. A large cake was wheeled out for the staff with That’s a Wrap written on it, and there was plenty of eager chatter about plans for the eight-week break. Most would head out of town on vacations or to see family, and I would be doing the same. The difference was that I wouldn’t be returning.
I tried to infuse the jovial vibe into my veins, but it was difficult. I always knew this day would come, but it felt heavy, and I didn’t want to be sappy or bring anyone’s mood down. Not when everyone else saw it as a celebration.
Rowan mentioned visiting friends in the Hamptons on his break but nothing more. In fact, his brooding hadn’t really changed since that night at his apartment. And while he looked put together physically, there was a melancholy surrounding him that was so thick I was choking on it. I couldn’t tell if he was grieving my last day or his father’s passing. I wouldn’t dare presume to rate myself so high on that list, so it must’ve been the latter.
Still, things had felt different between us since that poignant night, like a drawn-out goodbye that was putting my emotions through the wringer.
Thankfully, there weren’t too many opportunities for us to be alone since Beth had arrived on set to shadow me, and for the most part, it had gone well. Rowan was on his best behavior, or maybe he was too busy and distracted to care. Likelier, the inevitable had set in, and he’d decided that scaring away another good assistant wasn’t the best idea—not that she scared easily. In fact, I was a little jealous of their amicable interactions and her amazing eye for design. Rowan needed that and, in the end, he would come to appreciate everything she had to offer. And wasn’t that the most important? I wished I didn’t care so much, but the show and staff had come to mean something to me, even if the job didn’t quite fit for more than one reason.