Chapter 28
KAT
The morning light brought none of the clarity I hoped for. I could still feel the way Tom’s stubble felt against my palm, the intensity of his gaze, and the smell of his cologne.
It felt like in the short time we’d been trapped together, he’d imprinted himself on me. I hadn’t asked and I’m sure he didn’t mean to.
It just happened.
Like the almost kiss…and more that I had to physically walk away from last night.
Sipping my second cup of coffee, I turn back to my computer, the anguish and sexual frustration I’d felt staring back at me on the page.
Silver linings and all that.
This story is good—maybe my best ever and all because of the man sitting downstairs in my kitchen.
“What are you working on?” Tom’s voice is soft but no less startling, the coffee in my mug sloshing over the side as it lands on my desk, my sweatpants, and the sleeve of my shirt.
Apparently no longer downstairs.
“Listen, super spy, you can’t just sneak around here. I was in the zone.”
“Was it zoning out? Because that’s what it looked like.”
Mopping up the liquid, I give him a dramatic huff. “Royce told you to be really nice to me.”
“That was the other day.”
“I didn’t realize it had an expiration date.”
He shrugs, the picture of ease as he leans his shoulder against the doorframe. It’s times like this that I forget why we’re here and what we’re doing because he just fits in my space. It’s ridiculous but part of me wonders if he feels it too.
“I wanted to let you know that the team will be arriving soon.”
“What time is it?” I ask, bringing my screen back to life, my eyes locking on the little numbers in the top corner at the same time Tom answers me.
“It’s almost three. Jace will stay here with you while Grimm and I go talk to Dahlia Anderson. Ozzy will be somewhere between the two locations. Once we talk to her, we can have a sit-down with Amelia and Hazel.”
My eyes widen. I know we talked about her at Colt’s but I didn’t think they’d actually go and talk to her.
It’s silly, really—I know she’s a part of the investigation and I shouldn’t care after all this time, but I’d be lying if just hearing her name doesn’t send an acute mix of sadness and hurt through my gut.
She’d been a mentor to me and I thought we were friends, but she trashed me all over social media the first chance she got.
It’d been a rude awakening and a stark reminder that in this business, trusting people always comes with a price.
There had been plenty like her since then, people both in Kat’s world and Sloane’s that wanted to latch on to my success after tearing me down.
But Dahlia Anderson would always hurt the worst.
“You really think it could be her?” I ask, a weird tone to my voice that has Tom narrowing his eyes as he takes a step into the room and crosses his arms over his chest.
“What’s with the face?”
“She was the first one who took advantage of how green I was in the industry. She was mean, and I know it sounds ridiculous but it’s something that always stayed with me.”
“It hurt because it was personal.”
“Yeah, and it feels silly that I can’t just get over it, that I can’t be stronger and let it roll off me like I do with so many other things.”
“Strength doesn’t have to mean getting over something, Kat. It can simply be the recognition that there’s a time in your life you don’t want to revisit and you’re actively working to make sure you never have to.”
“You make it sound so easy,” I say with a chuckle. “You’re way stronger than I am.”
The flash of heat in his eyes is there and gone before I can blink, but I know what I saw. Tom’s intensity is something I’ve grown to crave, and I have the urge to climb him like a tree right here in my office. The fantasy has me shifting as subtly as I can in my seat.
“Not always strong,” he admits, his piercing dark eyes locked on mine. “Last night…it shouldn’t have happened and it won’t happen again. It was unprofessional and I need to apologize for putting you in that position.”
I know I should be paying attention to the obvious letdown and redirect, but all I can hear on repeat in my head is putting you in that position.
But sexy.
Lord, do I know it would be sexy.
And he could have me in any position he wants.
He growls and I blush, nibbling on my lower lip as I try to give him my most innocent expression. “Hmm?”
“Kat.”
“What? I heard you.”
“It can’t happen again.”
“Nothing happened.” I huff, annoyed that he insists on saying it over and over.
“Kat.”
“Stop saying my name like that,” I hiss because I’d rather have the lecture without the undertone of exasperation.
If he doesn’t want me, fine, but he doesn’t get to make me feel bad about it.
“I get it. My brother is paying you. You’re a professional.
You have zero thoughts of getting me naked and furthermore, there will be no enjoying each other’s company while we’re at it. ”
His jaw clenches and there’s the slightest twitch in the corner of his eye.
“Miss Harrington…”
It’s the mocking formality that does it.
“Out,” I bark, standing from my chair and pointing toward the door. “Get out.”
“I’m trying to—”
“You’re trying to piss me off. Mission accomplished.” There’s a bite to the words that I hope covers the hurt as I round my desk and face off with him.
“Don’t leave while Jace is here.”
“Get. Out.” The words crack like a whip, and I can see the internal struggle play out on his face. He wants to fight with me. He wants to make me understand, but I don’t want to understand.
I get it, I do.
But that doesn’t make me want him less, and for him to deny the obvious chemistry between us feels like the worst kind of rejection.
So he can go fuck himself and I’ll continue to write filthy, out-in-public, we-might-get-caught sex for the next couple of chapters.
“Don’t leave.”
“Are we done? Because I have work to do.”
The question is rhetorical, the coolness in my tone dismissive. Without looking at him, I return to my desk, solidifying whatever wall we’ve just erected between us.
And fine, it’s not like I can afford a distraction now anyway.
So I let my fingers fly over the keyboard, pouring this disappointment onto the page until finally Tom quietly backs out of the room and closes the door behind him.
Symbolic.
Final.
And enough to break my heart a little in the process.