Always (Follow Me #6)

Chapter Five

My physician prescribed Ambien for me a while back when I was having trouble sleeping.

I didn’t take it.

I don’t take drugs to help me sleep. I didn’t even fill the prescription. I’ll drink a cup of chamomile tea—which tastes like shit, by the way—but that’s about as far as I’ll go with insomnia treatments. Some insomnia is a fact of life for someone with my responsibilities. So many people depend on me, and if I fuck up, many more than just me will suffer.

That’s a lot to deal with on a daily basis.

So I go without sleep a lot, and when I need a jolt that caffeine can’t give me, I take a cold shower or immerse myself in a cold plunge.

That’s what I do this morning.

Ten minutes in icy-cold water.

And let me tell you—those are ten long minutes.

But nothing clears your head like a cold plunge. Ben calls it forced meditation, and he’s right because all you can think about as you’re neck-deep is not freezing your balls off.

He and I usually take a plunge together or with a trainer. It’s not a good idea to do it alone. Sudden exposure to cold water can cause cold-shock response, which includes rapid breathing, increased heart rate, and a risk of hyperventilation. Alone, you could struggle to control your breathing, increasing the chance of panic or even fainting. You could also lose muscle function or, if hypothermia sets in, you can become disoriented or even lose consciousness.

I’m not the panicky type, and I’ve never fainted in my life. I know the risks, and I choose to take the plunge alone anyway. I keep the temperature at fifty-five degrees, and I set my timer for ten minutes. That’s my max.

Besides, I need this after another restless night.

I immerse myself into the cold water up to my neck, close my eyes, and concentrate on keeping warm. It’s impossible, of course, given that I’m in icy-cold water, but that’s why it works.

Forced meditation.

I breathe in, breathe out, focus only on the air coming into and leaving my body.

Nothing else can edge itself into my mind.

And damn, that’s what I need.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Until finally my timer rings, and I rise from the tub and grab a heated towel from my rack.

I cocoon myself in the cotton towel.

The beauty of the plunge is that the meditation continues for several more minutes as you warm yourself.

And when the thoughts finally come, there’s a moment of clarity every time.

I know what I need to do.

Once I’m warm, I take a quick shower and dress in casual clothes. No suit and tie today. Odd for me, but I’m not feeling it.

Besides, I won’t be in the office for long.

When I finally look at my phone, I see that Skye has posted again. Another selfie, this time right after she got out of bed.

God, she looks good. Bedhead never looked so great on anyone. Her cheeks are fresh and rosy. Apparently she didn’t have any trouble sleeping last night.

Damn her.

She’s fucking glowing, her tousled hair around her creamy shoulders.

Bedhead! Nothing better than the dawn of a new day. #feelingbetter #embracethenewday #simplyskye

Simply Skye.

I sigh.

Skye Manning is anything but simple.

Perhaps I should let her go. Rethink my plan. She’s so young, after all, and if she’s not hurting the way I am…

I take a sip of coffee and look at the post again.

Her brown hair is a wild mess, tangled and sticking out in every direction. But there’s something effortlessly beautiful about it—each strand falling in perfect chaos. Her brown eyes, still sleepy, have this soft warmth to them, like she’s just waking up to the world. Her skin glows with that natural, untouched beauty, and a lazy smile curves on her lips. I’ve seen her like this—completely unguarded and real.

I can’t let her go. How did I even have that thought? I have to try to make this work, so I’ll continue with the plan that came to me during my sleepless night.

…

“Who are you and what have you done with my brother?” Ben asks, his mouth full of scrambled eggs.

“You’re the one who told me to figure this shit out,” I retort.

“But heading off to Kansas?” He shakes his head. “Talking to her parents without her knowledge? Have you lost your mind?”

“If I don’t do what I can to figure Skye out, I’ll definitely lose my mind.”

“Have you forgotten the deals that we have on the table? In the UK? China? Not to mention here in the good old US of A.”

“You can handle things until I return. Fuck, Ben, it’s not like I’m leaving the country. I’ll be gone a day or two at most, and I set up a meeting with Beauregard Textiles in Kansas City on Monday, so there’s reason for the visit.”

“Since when are you interested in textiles?”

“I’m interested in making money. Sam Beauregard contacted our mergers and acquisitions department a couple months ago, and—”

Ben holds up his hand. “Please. Spare me the details. I guarantee you none of this interests me.”

“Fine. I’m not leaving until Sunday anyway, and I won’t be gone long. I’ll spend today tying up loose ends and bringing you up to speed. Anything else I can get done tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow’s Saturday.”

“Yeah? What’s your point?” He knows I work weekends.

He huffs. “I don’t need to be brought up to speed. I know everything inside out.”

“Yeah, you do. That’s my point. No one will miss me.”

“Except that you never take time off. Claire won’t know what to do with herself.”

“I’m at the New York office about a third of the time anyway. What the hell is this about, Ben?”

He sighs and wipes his lips with his napkin. “You’re just not yourself, Bray. It’s freaky.”

“You’re the one who told me I need Skye.”

“I did. But not at the cost of everything else.”

“The business will be fine—”

He holds up a hand. “That’s not what I mean. Of course the business will be fine. But the fact that you’re talking about going off to some farm to meet your girlfriend’s parents without checking with her is not fine. And you know what else isn’t fine? This isn’t you, Braden. You never leave the business. You’re a micromanager if I ever saw one.”

My brother is exaggerating a little. I’m hardly a micromanager. I have two people in New York who I trust with everything, and here in Boston I have Ben and my father. What my brother means is that I don’t relinquish control easily.

And he’s right.

But for the first time in my life, I feel like there may be more than work. More than this life I’ve come to know and love.

While Skye isn’t ready for what I want, I still want her.

I still love her.

“You sure about this?” Ben continues.

I draw in a breath, ready to say, “Yes, of course I’m sure,” because that’s what I always say.

Braden Black is always sure.

The truth?

I’m not sure.

I’m so far from sure that I can’t see it in my rearview mirror.

And that feels…not good, exactly, but interesting.

Intriguing.

Even kind of exhilarating.

I’m curious.

Curious to see where this remarkable woman grew up. Curious to meet the two people who raised her.

Once I’m in the office, I tell Claire to cancel any appointments I have in Boston Sunday through Tuesday.

Skye’s home is where everything began for her, and it’s where I’ll begin this journey.