Chapter 21
Payson
I feel like I can’t breathe. The way he stares into my soul…
Every nerve in my body is telling me to break this connection.
To look away. Because standing this close to him feels like I’m stepping into something I don’t fully understand.
Something I know I won’t be able to walk away from if I cross that line.
And damn do I want to. He smells so good.
Citrusy, with a hint of vanilla and the bourbon he was drinking.
The perfect combination that has my senses on alert.
The feel of his body this close to mine is causing goosebumps up my arms and a feeling in my stomach I don’t recognize.
“Or you might just find out.” His words linger in the air between us.
Like it’s a threat he hasn’t decided if he was going to enforce yet. The worst part? I want him to.
Those words alone should be enough to make me want to turn and run before he regains control.
But I don’t. I can’t. Instead, I take it a step further, pressing myself into him.
My heart betraying me as it nearly jumps from my chest. “Is that supposed to scare me?” I challenge, acting braver than I feel.
Something crosses through his eyes, telling me I should be afraid.
But I feel anything but, and that is more terrifying than the way he is making me feel right now. “Should it?” he questions.
“No,” I lie. His expression morphs into a dangerous one. Shit. My chest continues to constrict in ways I don’t like.
“Good,” he answers.
The air between us has changed, and neither of us is willing to acknowledge it.
I need to leave. I need to walk out of here fast, find my friend, and pretend this whole ordeal never happened, but my feet won’t move.
Not because they can’t but because my body is telling me it won’t be that easy.
Not after standing this close to him, our near almost kiss…
. I wish he would have. I practically threw myself against him, literally.
“What is this?” I ask, breaking the silence between us before it swallows us whole.
He reaches out and pushes my hair behind my ear.
His gaze rakes over me like I am his prey.
“What do you want it to be?”
I let out a small breath, shaking my head. “Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“That,” I answer, gesturing between us. “Don’t answer a question with a question like you are trying to stay in control here.” A flicker of emotion crosses his face. I can’t read it. I can’t read him. Am I getting to him? Or does he find me amusing?
“Maybe I am,” he says.
“That sounds exhausting.”
“It would be,” he replies, “if I didn’t enjoy it.”
I roll my eyes. “Let me guess, you bring every woman who wins up here for this.” I gesture to him, raking my eyes up and down his body. “Like you are the prize.”
“No,” he says flatly. “Don’t compare me to him.”
There’s a pause. A real one. He turns, creating some much needed space between us and walks to the windows. He watches the crowd below for a brief moment. “So, this isn’t something you normally do?” I press further.
He turns his head, his eyes finding mine and go dangerously slow down my body and back up to meet mine.
“Not usually.” That’s not an answer to my question, not really.
But it’s enough to know that whatever this tension is between us, it’s not normal.
Neither is the way my body reacts to his stare, his touch, his closeness.
I swallow hard as he watches me, like he’s deciding what to do with me now.
Suddenly, my body catches us with my head and I walk out that door, way faster than I entered.
The door closes behind me with a soft click, as I nearly run into the tall man with blond hair.
The hallway feels colder than when I was in it earlier, or maybe that’s just me.
He presses his earpiece and gestures for me to follow.
This time I don’t question it. I don’t make jokes or even glance at him.
I need to get as far away from that office as I can.
My phone buzzes in my hand as I walk. A text message from Ashton flashes on the screen.
Ashton: Where are you??
Me: Heading to the room. Go have fun. I’ll see you later.
I hesitate for a moment watching the three dots pop up and go away before I add:
Me: I’m okay. Promise.
Even though I’m not sure that’s true. We ride the elevator in silence, the kind of silence that gives your thoughts time to roam.
I can still hear the sound of his voice in my head.
The low, gravely way he whispered in my ear.
The way he made my chest feel tight in a way I didn’t understand.
You look like someone who just lost something instead.
I squeeze my eyes shut. I can’t think about that right now. I refuse.
The penthouse is just as quiet and still as when we left it, yet somehow different.
Like it knows something I don’t. I kick off my heels the second I step inside.
The cool tile soothes my aching bare feet as I move further inside in the dark.
It’s pointless to turn on any lights. The city below shining through the windows illuminates enough.
The view calls to me. Lights flicker below as cars move in endless lines and people enjoy their lives that feel impossibly far away from mine.
My reflection stares back at me, and I barely recognize her.
Fragments of the last twenty-four hours replay in my head.
Kraig’s voice. The moment the door opened.
The second I felt my heart break. I wrap my arms around myself, steadying myself as my throat threatens to tighten.
I thought seeing them together, that kind of betrayal, would hurt the most but it didn’t.
It was how I walked away from there that did it.
The way my heart broke but didn’t shatter.
Like I was relieved. God. That feels worse.
I press my palm flat against the glass, the weight of something solid beneath my fingertips steadying me.
“Was I ever really in love with him?” I whisper into the void.
This city doesn’t answer, but I already know the truth.
I wasn’t in love with him. I was in love with what he could give me. Freedom. Choice. And now, that’s gone.
My chest starts to tighten again, just like before.
When I close my eyes, he’s there—those dark eyes with flecks of green and gold, staring back at me.
They seem to read me, as if he already knows things I haven’t even admitted to myself yet.
I drag a hand through my hair and exhale, unaware I was holding my breath.
“He doesn’t know me,” I tell myself. Not well enough to judge me.
A flashback from the party hits me. He stands across the room, watching me.
Not talking. Not moving. Just watching. I remember how I felt under his stare.
How my body reacted before my brain could catch up.
How I forced myself not to acknowledge he was looking at me like he wanted to devour me.
He was a stranger then, but now he doesn’t feel like one.
That’s what’s unnerving to me. Not the way my body reacted to him…
which is something I am definitely not ready to deal with right now…
but the fact that this feeling, this pull between us, didn’t start tonight. It just intensified.