8. Katherine
8
KATHERINE
It’s dark when I wake parched. I blink, but my eyes are gritty. I didn’t take off my makeup last night, and I’m already paying for it.
Fabulous.
I extract myself from Kingston, who’s impersonating an octopus, wrapped around me like he’ll never let me go. Alex’s massive hand is clamped over my hip, and as I start to shimmy out from under it, he gives a low, sleepy growl, wraps his arm around my middle, and tugs me across the cushion to his chest.
Who knew Alexander Hunt was a cuddle bear?
“Stay,” he murmurs, adorably sleepy.
“Need water,” I mutter back, already prying his fingers from my boob.
“I’ll get it.” He sounds more awake now.
I roll over. “Stay here. I’ve got it. Sleep.” I press a kiss to his chin and he sighs, relaxing back into the pillows.
Grabbing the first shirt I find, I tug it on. My fingers slide down, searching for the buttons, but meet nubs of thread. It’s Alex’s shirt.
A zing of pleasure shoots straight to my love-drunk pussy. The hussy had way too much attention yesterday and should sleep for a week, but darn if my clit doesn’t throb at the memory of Alex, so eager to have me that he ruined a gorgeous dress shirt.
I pad through their apartment, the wood chilly against my bare feet, thankful for the small wall sconces lighting the way because the space is massive. Easily three or four times bigger than mine.
I round the corner to the main living space, where the floor-to-ceiling windows offer a ridiculous view of the skyline. In front of them is Gabe, shoulders hunched, hands in the pocket of his slacks. I pause as I take him in.
He seems... lonely. Lost in thought. Tired, even. The twinkling kaleidoscope of color from outside plays over his naked torso.
I tuck Alex’s shirt tighter around my waist. Watching Gabe like this feels like an intrusion, as if I’m somehow privy to his innermost thoughts.
I wish.
Should I go back and leave him alone?
If I continue to the kitchen for a glass of water, he’s bound to hear me.
Then, as if sensing my attention, his chin lifts, and his spine straightens. He glances over his shoulder, face half in shadow and half lit by the glow of nearby buildings.
The breath leaves my lungs, and my stomach clenches at his beauty. My feet move of their own accord, carrying me forward as if he’s pulling me.
“Hey,” I whisper.
He stares at my feet before his survey moves slowly up my body. My skin tingles with awareness. “I like you in our clothes.”
Relief bubbles through me, making me feel lighter. I sway toward him, drawn to something I can’t put my finger on.
He slides a hand around my lower back, tucking me against his side. I press my cheek against his bare chest and look out at the city below. The man really does have the world at his feet.
His heartbeat is steady, and his skin is warm. In the past, it was easy to see him from afar and wonder if he was actually a man or a robot. The rumor that he doesn’t sleep runs rampant through Manhattan. And here he is, awake in the middle of the night.
“Couldn’t sleep?” I ask.
There are several long beats of silence, so long I tip my head up and look at him.
“Couldn’t stop thinking about your lighthouse comment.”
Oh.
It was the heat of the moment. The memory is hazy, clouded by pleasure and hormones. Was that—did I mess up?
He squeezes me. “I’ve always thought of Alex as my lighthouse.”
My gasp is loud in the quiet apartment. Happiness and alarm spear through me, a wild combination.
“Really?”
That’s so... What are the chances?
“I met him at one of the lowest points in my life. And he was just there. Unwavering. Supportive. This quiet beacon.”
I’ve always felt that way when I saw Alex at various events. The way he moved through society, listening and watching. The night of the auction, I was stressed beyond belief, and the snowball of anxiety kept growing and speeding up. But Alex was there when I needed him most.
“He’s good at that.”
“My family never believed in me the way he did.” There’s a pause as he stares out at the skyline, and I can almost see him falling back through time. Remembering those early days. “He liked that I was smart and had my head in the clouds. He understood my ambition and never derided me for it.”
Taking his hand in mine, I tug him toward the living room. The thick rug is soft beneath my feet. Twin sofas are flanked by low-slung chairs. There’s not a throw pillow in sight, but that doesn’t surprise me because this is his bachelor pad. I settle into the corner of the nearest sofa and pull him down next to me.
It’s surreal being in Gabe’s apartment. After dark. On his couch. His cum still inside me. Like a dream.
And there’s something about the city glistening outside the windows, the quiet. It feels safe to admit things that have been on my mind and my heart. “I’ve always liked that about you too. I was fourteen that summer when you were on the cover of every finance magazine and half a dozen others.”
He groans, turning toward me and tucking his foot behind his other knee. He slides an arm across the back of the sofa, and I lean into the circle of his embrace.
“I snuck them past my mother and grandfather, devouring all the details I could find.”
“Why?”
I drop my chin and tug Alex’s shirt tighter around me. Is he ready for the truth? Am I? Should we rehash the past? Part of me thinks it doesn’t matter. So much time has passed, and my grandfather is dead. But I also understand the curiosity and the need for closure.
I’ll never get that with my grandfather. If he hadn’t died, would I have ever woken up from the trance they cast over me? Would I have played the game and kept doing what they told me to do?
Gabe tucks a knuckle beneath my chin and lifts it until I meet his gaze. “Why did you read all those articles?”
His blue eyes are dark and watchful, and the intensity of his stare resonates deep in my bones. I want to tell him everything. I want to ask him all the questions that have played through my mind a thousand times. But I’m terrified of opening old wounds. Our relationship feels so new, so tenuous.
But I lick my lips. Be brave, Katherine .
“I wanted to learn about the man my grandfather hated.” It’s the simple truth. A girlish curiosity. Back during a time when I was steeped in family drama. My mother would rail about my father. Grandfather would lose his mind over Gabe. It was like they needed an antagonist in their life and would find one, willing or not.
Puzzle pieces fall into place, and it’s a pattern I’ve never noticed before. Now that I’ve seen it, the blinders fall away and my past looks different. It’s easy to separate myself from the girl who wanted to fit in and be loved by her family.
“And what did you find out?” Gabe’s voice is curious but also trepidatious. Like he’s scared to discover what I found out or how I saw him–I don’t know which.
Are we finally going to talk about it? Will he tell me what happened?
“You’re brilliant. But I already knew that.”
He tugs on my hair, a smile ghosting over his lips. “Yeah?”
“Anyone who intimated my grandfather the way you did? Oh yeah. I didn’t need Forbes telling me you had a once-in-a-generation mind.”
I shiver, remembering all the feelings I had a decade ago as I read those words. The awe. The admiration. The confusion.
His hand falls away, and he retreats. But I can’t let him do that. Not again.
“Gabe. . .”
A second ticks by. Then he looks at me again. I scoot closer, sliding a hand over his thigh to anchor us together. “Will you tell me what really happened between you and my grandfather?”
No one likes rehashing their past, I get that. Add in a traumatic experience, and it’s a wonder he didn’t leave me on the sidewalk Friday night. That he talks to me at all.
“You know what happened,” he says.
A typical brush-off, Gabriel style. I squeeze his thigh. “I want to hear it from you. Because I don’t trust my grandfather’s side of things. Not that he ever told me any specifics.”
“What did he tell you?”
I press even closer until I’m practically in his lap. “Like I said, it wasn’t anything specific. It was more of a grudge. Any time you were in the news, he’d scoff and mutter. He was such a bad sport. The one time I asked, I was young.” I swallow, a fresh memory scalding me. “I wanted to know what it was that you’d done to make him hate you. You know how children are. I couldn’t comprehend it. He didn’t give me a straight answer.”
I was too young at the time to put two and two together. To press him on it. And over time, it just became a thing. We hated Gabriel Rothburn. They did, anyway. I was distrustful because whatever my grandfather’s reasons were, I assumed they were true. Reasonable.
“His voice was like a crack of thunder. Loud. Terrifying. He told me it didn’t matter what had happened. That you simply weren’t to be trusted.” I can’t look him in the eye as I repeat those words. I wish I’d been stronger, more inquisitive. “It was years before I asked him anything again.”
My name is a rough whisper as Gabe pulls me closer, cupping my cheek.
“I’m okay.” I nestle against his palm. “But I hate that he hurt you.”
He tips his forehead against mine. My shoulders drop, and I take a deep, soothing breath.
Whatever his story is, it’s obvious that he was hurt. Deeply. While my grandfather’s pride might have just been wounded. A superficial cut.
Gabe straightens, staring at me for another moment, and then looks away.
“He showed up at my school one day, just like you see in the movies. Dark car. Sunglasses. A driver. The whole bit. I knew who he was because I read every financial magazine and newspaper article I could get my hands on. He was a giant in the banking industry and I wanted in.”
The awe in his voice is unmistakable. I know the feeling. Meeting someone you’ve read about. Someone untouchable. It’s incredible. Akin to meeting a favorite author or a movie star, I suppose.
“He was so complimentary. Took me out to lunch. I was enamored. Here was this titan of the industry, and he was interested in me and my fledgling company. The fact that he wanted my opinion floored me. He flew me to New York. I’d never been on a plane before and there I was on a private jet. I was meeting people, and it was all so amazing. Like the world was finally welcoming me. Embracing me. He took me to my first polo match. Sent me to his tailor.”
Gabe’s voice cracks. Tears burn my eyes, and my nose aches with unshed tears.
“I soaked it up. It was like having a grandparent who understood me. Believed in me. I’d never had that before. And he just kept reeling me in. He said he had an apartment he never used, so I should give up my dorm. And, of course, his place was way nicer. I didn’t have to share a bathroom, and it was quiet. I could think. I could work.”
I curl closer, tumbling down memory lane with him. My grandfather so rarely showed me his charming side. It’s easy to see how a young man who was desperate for attention and praise could fall prey to a devious man.
“By that point, the company was popping off. I had to make some hard decisions, and it was rapidly becoming too big for me to do alone. I needed resources and help. And I had school. It was a lot.”
Oh gosh. I see where this is going.
I know I need to hear the rest. To hear him out. To learn the truth. But I don’t want to. I want to kiss him and keep on kissing him. To wash away those memories. Replace them with good ones.
But there’s no washing away this kind of betrayal.
My grandfather tucked Gabe under his wing.
Made him feel like he belonged.
“What happened?”
“He wanted me to sign some paperwork. To make my living in his apartment legal. I’d never heard of something like that before, but by that point, I trusted Henry. If I needed to sign something to keep everything on the up and up, hand me the pen. But the courier—or whatever he was—didn’t have a working pen. He seemed like he was in a rush, and he didn’t want to leave it with me. So I waved him inside and went hunting through the junk drawer. Thank goodness for that crusty ballpoint pen. It gave me just enough time to get curious about the stack of papers because it was awfully thick for a housing agreement. So, I started reading the document. There were parts I didn’t understand, but the part where I would be signing away thirty percent of my company? That was pretty fucking clear.”