Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
CORA
Almost two weeks pass by before I see him again.
It’s purely by accident that I run into him at the coffee shop.
He’s sitting with a woman, and I can tell they’re in deep conversation, so I don’t bother interrupting.
I’ve been standing and waiting for my order for a good five minutes when I quickly glance over my shoulder to see if he’s still there.
When I do, I find them both staring at me, and I feel my cheeks flush, knowing they are talking about me.
The woman looks familiar, but I’m not sure where I might know her from.
I don’t think she was a client of mine, though I know I’ve seen her somewhere.
Arlo sits there, holding his coffee and watching me, and that’s when I notice the beads wrapped around his hand.
Something moves inside of me, and I realize I’m jealous that he is sitting across from a beautiful woman with those beads in his hand.
Quickly looking away as my name is called, I grab my coffee, then add sugar before I turn to leave. But all of a sudden, he’s standing directly in my path. He smells good. I try not to take a deep breath so he won’t notice I’m smelling him as I meet his eyes. They’re so dark.
“Were you going to leave without saying hi?” he asks.
“You looked busy.” I flick my gaze at the woman sitting there, and see she’s staring at us with a thoughtful expression.
“Yes, I guess I was. She’s one of my patients but also a friend. Sometimes, we like to take our sessions out of the office.” Oh, she’s a patient. That’s why she looks familiar. She was at his office that time when I went to get his signature.
“I don’t want to interrupt. It was nice to see you again.”
“Was it though? Nice to see me?” he asks, and I can sense the people around us waiting for their own coffees. He doesn’t care though. It is as if he only sees me. It’s intimidating but also exhilarating.
“Sure, it is, but I do have to get going.”
“Can I call you?” he asks.
“Hi, I’m Lilith, and you must be Cora.” I turn to find the woman with soft copper-colored hair holding out her hand to me. Arlo glances at her before returning his gaze to me. Has he been talking about me?
“I am. Nice to meet you.” I shake her hand, and then she turns to Arlo.
“I have to go. Reon is expecting me.”
Arlo tells her goodbye, and she heads off.
“Can I call you?” he asks again.
“Why do you want to call me?”
“Because I want to fuck you. I thought we established that.”
A lady behind me gasps loudly, but neither of us pays her any attention.
I’ve had many “relationships” that were purely about sex.
I just recently ended one, so would I be a fool to start another so soon?
I’m not really sure what the right answer is.
I do want to give in to him. I honestly think I would enjoy any time spent with this man.
He seems to understand what a woman wants.
But at the same time, he scares me. Not that I would ever tell him that, and I think I do a pretty good job of hiding the fact.
He doesn’t scare me in the way that I’m afraid he’ll hurt me.
I’m afraid of how he makes me feel and the emotions he brings to the surface when I’m around him.
I try my best to stay detached from people I feel I’m not willing to give my time to.
Life is short, and my mother is a great example of that fact.
When I don’t answer right away, he reaches out with the hand that has the beads wrapped around it and clasps mine. “Say yes.”
“Yes,” I reply breathlessly, feeling the light pressure of the beads resting in the palm of my hand infused with his body heat, warming me all over.
He squeezes my hand once before releasing it. “I have a few patients to see, but I’ll call you later.”
I don’t say anything because I can’t believe I just agreed to let him call me. Or was that even what I agreed to? I understand he wants to call me because he wants to fuck me. And I do want him to fuck me. At least I think I do.
“Cora,” he says my name when I don’t reply after a few moments. “Breathe. It’s not the end of the world.”
“I never said it was,” I bite back.
“No, you just looked like your world was falling apart.”
He’s not far off the mark. My mother is declining more and more each day, and I continue to work my ass off like that’s not happening.
Luke was a temporary respite from all that, but considering I just ended that relationship because I couldn’t keep doing that, it makes no sense to agree to have some playtime with this man in hopes that he will take my mind off everything. Stupid, really.
“Goodbye, Arlo.” I push past him, and without looking back, I walk out the door and get into my car.
* * *
The first time he called, it was from a private number, and I didn’t answer.
Not that I knew for sure it was him, but I’m pretty sure it was.
Because the second time he calls, it’s not from a private number, and I pick up.
Glancing up at my white ceiling as I lie in bed with a glass of wine next to me, I have to remember to breathe when he speaks.
“Cora. I didn’t think you would answer,” he says.
“I contemplated not answering,” I admit.
“I’m glad you did.” When I don’t say anything, he adds, “Open the door, Cora.”
Everything in me freezes at his words. Open the door? What the hell does he even mean by that?
“Yes, I’m at your door. No, I’m not a stalker. I have a gift for you, so please, open up.”
Glancing at my glass of wine, I contemplate not getting up. Sighing, I grip the phone in my hand. The wooden floor beneath my bare feet is cold as I make my way to the door. Then I just stare at the door and wonder… should I open it?
What if he’s here to kill me?
For all I know, he could have a fucked-up kink where he not only strangles women with those beads while he fucks them, but he does it to the point of killing them.
“I can hear you breathing.” His voice rattles through the door.
With a sigh, I unlock the first deadbolt, then hesitate before I do the rest. When I pull the door open, there he stands, in a black cotton shirt and black slacks. Does this man even own jeans? Or anything with color?
He raises a hand with several sheets of paper held in it.
“What is that?” I ask.
“Information for your mother.”
“My mother?” I squeak in surprise. “How would you know—” I shut up as I reach out for the document. I read over it quickly, my brows pinching together.
“I have access to the best doctors in the world. This doctor is a well-known neurologist who has seen great results with his patients.”
“Why would you even do this? And how?” My brows are furrowed as I talk, and I shake my head at his words, blinking rapidly while I look up at him.
“My friend is a detective. I asked him to pull up everything there is about you.”
I gasp at this information. “That’s extremely invasive.” I shake my head. “Why would you tell me?”
“Because I want to be truthful with you,” he says, sounding sincere. “Can I come in?”
I glance back down at the document and then back up at Arlo. “I’m not sure I want you in my apartment.”
“Fair. But I promise not to fuck you tonight.”
“That also doesn’t sound reassuring.”
He shrugs. “I’m only a man standing in front of a beautiful woman.”
I roll my eyes and step back so he can come in. He smirks at me as he enters, and I shut the door once he’s inside.
I stand slightly behind him as he takes stock of my apartment, watching his eyes move slowly across the space. The floor plan is open, almost loft-like, which makes everything feel a little too exposed with him here.
Warm wooden floors stretch beneath our feet, complemented by thick beams that run across the ceiling, giving the place a touch of rustic charm. My furniture is crisp white, clean, and minimalist, with the only real pop of color coming from the deep-red rug beneath the television stand.
It draws the eye, but not as much as the view beyond it.
Further in, just off to the right, is my bed. It’s unmade, slightly rumpled—white sheets with a lone black throw pillow in the center.
A part of me wonders what he’s thinking as he takes it all in—if he notices the lack of personal touches or if he’s imagining things I haven’t let anyone imagine before.
After finishing his perusal, he turns to face me.
I don’t have any personal photographs on display, and I try to keep this place as clean and uncluttered as possible.
When you grow up in an environment where your mother hoards everything, you tend not to want to do the same.
To this day, I haven’t gone through her things at her house.
I pay someone once a month to give it a clean, and that’s as far as I’ve attempted to go.
“You said a call, not a visit.”
His gaze traces over me as I stand here in my silk pajamas. They have little love hearts on them, and I see his lips twitch at the sight. “I called. I just thought you may want that information.”
I shake my head. I’ve paid for my mother to see multiple doctors, and they all said the same thing—that there’s nothing else that can be done for her. So while hope is always there, I don’t see much I can do about this.
“Thank you. Though I do believe you just used that as an excuse to come into my home.”
“Yes, I did,” he says without shame. He looks around again. “You find out a lot about a person by where they live.”
“Yeah? So, what does my apartment say about me?” I ask, my tone snarky. However, I’m curious about his answer.
“That you prefer your alone time.”
“That is true.” I don’t invite anyone back here. Delaney is the only other person I allow into my space, and she’s only been here a few times. We usually meet at her place, or we go out. This is the only place I can feel totally safe.
And yet, here he stands, in my safe space.
And I don’t feel threatened.
“So, you never invited Luke back here?” he asks.
“How did you…” I shake my head, not even wanting that answer. “No, I did not,” I tell him. “What about you, Arlo? Do you invite many women back to your place?”
“No.”
“Never?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest, while still gripping the papers in one hand.
He takes a step closer to me and leans in as he answers, “Never.”
I smile at that. “Interesting.”
He drags his nose along my ear and down my jawline, and I have to remember to stay still and breathe as his low and gravelly tone skates across my skin.
“The things I could do to you, Cora. The way I could make you scream,” he whispers in my ear, completely in my safe space now. With his closeness, I can feel his body heat radiating off him. It sets my body on fire.
“Yeah? Show me,” I say with a sense of fear and honesty.
Arlo steps back, a look of surprise flitting across his face before it’s gone just as fast. He then goes over to my sofa and sits. He spreads his arms on the back of the couch, then crooks a finger, indicating for me to join him as he looks at me with eyes that are dark and intimidating.
After setting the papers on the kitchen counter, I walk over to him. I can see how hard he is through his pants. He wants me, and that lights a small fire in my stomach.
“Sit on my lap, Cora. I won’t touch you in any other way.”
“Why?”
“Because I promised not to fuck you, and if I touch you, I’ll break that promise.”
“What if I want you to break that promise?” I counter.
He bites his bottom lip and chews on it as he nods to his lap. “Sit.”