Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Annika
I glance at the clock, but it feels like time has stopped ticking the moment the door closes behind Zach and Rahul. In pure Annika Rao fashion, I let myself escape the storm brewing within by throwing myself into my friends’ budding romance.
Rahul was right, with that clarity that he has about everyone else but himself. I can appreciate how right they are together because of the night I spent with Dr. Cross. I know now what it means to show someone your true self and not only be accepted but adored. Appreciated.
How am I supposed to go on without that feeling? Without him?
Now, morning is here, the world is bright, and my stomach is caving in on itself at the idea of walking away. Of never seeing Dr. Cross’s eyes light up as they land on me. Of never knowing the warm, drugging need in his kisses.
The suite feels smaller, the air thicker. Or maybe it’s our unspoken words that are burning up the oxygen, leaving nothing for us.
I move across the room and wince at the delicious soreness between my thighs. My core is over-sensitized but still clenching on emptiness. I pick up the colorful pillows we threw off the bed at dawn, my hands moving too fast. I can’t bring myself to even look at him. Will I drown in those pale gray eyes? Will I shatter at his feet?
“Annika.” His voice is infinitely gentle and yet snaps the choking tension inside me. “Look at me.”
The soft command makes my nerves ping, and I turn. He’s standing with his back to the door, arms folded.
“Good morning, sweetheart.”
Morning light slants through the suite, gilding the sharp lines of his face, the lush curve of his lower lip.
Dressed in a gray button-down shirt that makes his eyes look dark, and black slacks, he looks like the man I met first in the waiting room. Controlled and remote. Unlike the man who stripped everything from me, and himself, at dawn. The man who let me see the possessive need and craven desires underneath the polish.
There’s an opacity to his expression, like a glass window reflecting me instead of letting me see inside. Is he mad I invited Zach and Rahul up here, or that they made everything so awkward? Or is it that he wants to make this walking away easier on both of us?
“You’re staring,” he says, color high in his cheeks. “Although, I must say I like when your gaze rests on me.”
A small laugh slips out of me, awkward and breathless as it comes through a tight throat. I want to sprint across the room like they do in climactic moments in Bollywood movies. I want to fall to my knees and beg him to love me as I do him. I want so much that it terrifies me.
In what universe can there be more between us? How?
If I go down that route, I might truly go mad. And if I stay too long in this bubble, I’ll never want to leave. All or nothing have always been my only two speeds.
“Good morning, Ethan,” I say, loving how his name tingles on my lips. “I wish you had woken me up.”
“You were dead to the world. I still stole a kiss though.”
“No fair,” I say. The wicked glint in his eyes makes me warm all over. “You robbed me of the chance to wake up with your arms around me.”
“I have more than a half hour.” His eyes gleam with naked desire he lets me see. And just like that, he’s familiar again. “You want to get back into bed?”
I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, fingers trembling. “Then I’ll just beg you to fuck me again. I told you, I’m a slut for you.”
It’s crass and cutting, but I need to bring this down to the physical plane. The quiet censure in his eyes tells me it’s too late for that.
“So,” he says, pushing off the door. Smiling faintly, as if I didn’t try to belittle both of us just now. “Zach and Rahul invited you to join them as a throuple, right?”
I let out a small, disbelieving laugh, shaking my head. “You miss nothing, do you?”
“When it comes to you, absolutely not.”
He says the words in a casual tone but there’s an intensity to them. I shy away from his gaze and fold the cheap cupid costume. “That was before they saw you.”
“Will you look at me when you’re talking to me? Or are we pretending like we’re strangers who fucked in the night and can’t stand each other in the morning?”
There’s a leashed anger in him that zips up my spine like an electric charge. God, even his anger turns me on. I turn to him, and the impact of him on my system is lethal. His short hair has begun air-drying into waves, and dark circles cradle his eyes.
He looks magnetic and sexy and tired. For one second, I step away from the crushing weight of having to say goodbye to him and see what’s ahead for him.
Martha’s recovery is going to be a long road, and he has big decisions to make. A strange, sweet contentment fills me at the thought of being there for him for one night. To have eased his burden just a little.
“Ani?”
I inhale roughly and think back to his question. “It was an offer made out of pity.”
His brows rise in surprise. “Is it that easy for them?”
I shake my head. The elephant we’re both ignoring is stomping around us, expanding to take over the suite. “Easy, no. I think whatever happened last night was more than just sex. It scared them. They think that if they have me in the middle, they don’t have to face it or name it. Or do anything about it.”
“Sounds like it was a life-changing night all around.”
I pause, feeling the knot I woke up with tighten in my chest.
Dr. Cross watches me for a moment, as if waiting for me to take the bait. Then, with that same steady gaze, he says, “So you won’t consider their offer? Not even in the future?”
“Not interested at all. I have enough insecurities without jumping into a relationship with two men who are in love with each other. Plus, last night taught me a lot about myself. About my own needs and desires.” I bite back the thank-you that rises to my lips. It sounds very transactional, and the last thing I want is to anger him at this last moment. All roads between us right now would lead to the bed I’m not trying to sniff at like an addict. “Apparently, even I can move forward in life and not make the same mistakes twice.”
His mouth purses into a straight line. “I hate it when you use self-deprecation to avoid hard topics.”
That little insight he has into me is so on point that it pricks. “Wow, our relationship, if we can call it that, really moves at meteoric speeds, huh, Dr. Cross? We’ve already reached the ‘I-hate-when-you’ parts.”
“What do you hate about me?” he says, in that tone he used when reading questions from the deck. Like there’s nothing more interesting in the entire world than my mind.
I meet his challenging gaze, heart scuttling in my throat like a trapped bird. “I hate it when you’re right about me, even though I love it that you see me so clearly.”
He laughs, the sound low and genuine, and for a moment, the weight in my chest lightens. “Good to know,” he says, though there’s something else in the way he’s looking at me now. Something deeper, quieter.
“Why did you ask? About them?” I pull the duvet over the pillows and tug it into place. The simple act of making the bed feels like closing the door on us. “You can’t be truly interested in our foolish emo floundering.”
“They are part of your world. I want to understand how it works.”
A laugh slips out of me. “Do we look that strange to you?”
He thinks before he answers. I love that about him. I love that he isn’t just pretending to be interested in my chaotic life. “Not strange. But there’s a level of freedom and ease about sexual matters that my friends and I don’t have. It’s refreshing. As long as they aren’t propositioning you right in front of me.”
I turn away, breathing in fast pants. Suddenly, the air in the suite feels oppressive and thick—heavy with the scent of sweat, sex, and the faint spice of Dr. Cross’s cologne that somehow seeped into my skin.
My hand reaches for the French doors, and I slide them open, letting the cool breeze rush in, carrying the scent of fresh rain. The sky is impossibly blue now, the storm gone. Sunlight spills across the room, bright and warm.
I lean against the doorframe, the curtains fluttering as the wind picks up. “I have a virtual meeting with the admissions committee for the nursing school in two hours,” I say, unable to take it anymore. “I have to leave soon to prepare for it.”
I don’t miss the fact that he’s keeping the distance I put between us. “Order in lunch and take it here. I’ll be gone for the rest of the day.”
I shake my head. “Better to do it at Zach’s. I won’t be able to concentrate here. Rahul and I body double for each other on important tasks. It’s why they’re driving me to Seattle too. This next week is super important, and I don’t want to mess anything up. If I stay here...”
“What?” He sighs and when he speaks again, his tone is infinitely gentle. “I want to understand, Annika. Let me.”
“You’ll mock me,” I say, tears pricking my throat like thorns. “I’ve tried to explain it before, and most... neurotypicals don’t get it. The best response I get is that I’m lazy or that I’m not applying myself, or that I don’t want success bad enough.”
He flinches, as if I have dealt him an invisible punch. “You truly think I would mock you?”
A rogue tear falls down my cheek and I wipe at it roughly. “No, maybe not mock me. But this is like asking me to lay the most vulnerable version of me bare. Didn’t you get enough last night?”
He runs his fingers over his temples, his pale gray eyes uncharacteristically hard. “Then I guess you have to make the call if I’m worthy of that or not, Ani.”
He’s right, and that’s his appeal. This hold he has on me isn’t a power trip or currency for him. He simply wants me to acknowledge it and give him all of me.
With a shuddering inhale, I try. “If I stay here any longer, I’ll fall into a hyper fixation spiral. I’m already skating that line into that intoxicating state, riding this emotional high.” The words rush of out me in the silence. “Soon, I’ll prioritize the rush of being with you, of being wanted by you, over nursing school, over my other commitments, even over my own well-being. It’s why I texted Rahul this morning to come get me. Funnily enough, they were already on their way.”
Dr. Cross doesn’t brush it off, doesn’t try to counter my fears with easy assurances. Instead, he studies me—really looks at me—with that quiet intensity of his, like he’s taking in every word, every twitch, every flicker of emotion I can’t quite hide. When he finally speaks, his voice is low, careful. “You’ve clearly worked hard to achieve that kind of self-awareness. You continue to amaze me, sweetheart.”
I choke down on a sob and sway on my feet. My entire being is filled with a quiet joy, a bright light that should shine out of my very pores. This man...he sees me as I am. And it’s an intoxicating feeling.
His fingers flex by his sides, like he wants to reach for me but is stopping himself. “I’m still a selfish man though. And I want to accommodate whatever you need. Stay here for just a couple more days. Rahul can join you during the day. That way, you have your structure, and we’ll have evenings together. If all you want to do is talk or hang out or simply go to bed, I’m okay with that. We can just be friends, if it helps you stay grounded.”
I laugh, but it’s a broken sound. “How many more days though?” Desperation leaks into my tone. I walk toward him, promising myself one more hug. One more kiss. One more simple, searing touch. “How much more will be enough?”
His gaze eats me up as he cups my jaw. “There’s no need to put a limit, sweetheart.”
I rock into his touch, my entire being tuned to it. “I have an interview at a pediatric clinic in two days. Tomorrow afternoon, I get the keys to an apartment I’m house-sitting for the summer.”
“Stay for tonight then.”
Leaning forward, I hide my face in his chest, messing up his shirt with my tears and snot. He smells divine, the planes of his chest already familiar to my fingers.
My heart expands to dangerous proportions as I realize what he’s already become to me—my place of belonging.
But how long before the shine wears off? Before he discovers that I’m not worthy of his regard? Before he looks at me the way my family does? I would die of a broken heart then. So, I have to walk away now, when everything is still good. When he looks at me like he adores me beyond belief.
“Please, don’t make this harder. I’d rather remember how good this is.”
His fingers squeeze around my nape and dig into my scalp as he holds me tightly. My breasts are crushed against his hard chest. I breathe him in like I’m hyperventilating just so I can bury his scent deep in my lungs.
“You’re the best thing that has happened to me in a long time, Ani.” He presses a warm kiss to my temple. “If you’re scared and you want to run today, I will allow it, sweetheart. But this isn’t over. Not by any means.”
His arrogant confidence brings my head up, even as I revel in it. If only I could borrow his faith, if only I could let myself believe his feelings would last. I dig my teeth into his chin, bloodthirsty and possessive to the last. “What do you mean to do?”
“I mean to chase you. So run if you need to. As far and as fast as you can manage. But I’ll catch you, sooner or later.”
And then he gently, but firmly, pushes me away. My heart drops to my stomach and then to my feet as he grabs his jacket. The distance between us grows impossibly wide with each step he takes toward the door. I feel like I’m being torn apart from the inside.
I want to be the one to say goodbye. Not get left behind like this.
“Dr. Cross?” I say, unable to stop myself. “Will you kiss me once more?”
He turns and shakes his head.
“Please,” I beg, beyond self-respect.
“Take a long shower. Order room service. There’s no need to rush. I’ll tell your friends to come back in a while to pick you up.” He rattles off instructions with that calm authority that I automatically want to follow. As if he’s already programmed me to.
He stills at the door. One last look over his shoulder is all he grants me. “I’ll see you soon, sweetheart. Take care of yourself for me until I can do it, yeah? Because you’re mine.”