Chapter 23
Serenity
The sound of birds chirping outside wakes me up the next morning.
My bed is plush, and I don’t have a little body flopped on top of me or curls in my mouth.
I pry my eyes open and take in the dimly lit hotel room.
The curtains are partially open, allowing a sliver of sunlight to peek inside.
Victor’s jacket is still laid over the computer chair in the corner.
And within that seat is the man himself.
He types something on his laptop keyboard, unaware I’m awake.
Shit. Shit. Shit!
I only have a few minutes to compose myself before he turns around and realizes I’m awake.
Everything about last night pops into my brain.
How I initiated. How I finally let go and …
and … I roll over and bury my face in my fluffy pillow.
Shoving those thoughts away, I try to focus on anything other than the mind-blowing orgasm.
I wasn’t supposed to actually let him touch me during our marriage.
He didn’t even ask for anything in return.
No, he’s been the perfect gentleman.
This is all on me. At this point, leaving this hotel is my number one priority.
If I stay, I can’t promise I won’t beg for more.
My cheeks heat at the thought. The way he worshipped my body …
it’s like he wanted to give me everything because he, too, knew it would probably be the only time he’d be able to touch me so intimately.
I hold back a groan. I’ve tried to resist this entire time, and after one weak moment, I fell into the trap. His steady gaze. His lean muscles. The way he acted like my body was a piece of art meant to only ever be respected.
Stop thinking like that.
What we shared was only physical, and it’s not like we had sex. No promises were made past last night. If we act normally, we can fall back into our old routine, but with me being a lot kinder.
I push myself into a seated position, and Victor cranes his neck to glance back at me. My heart pounds like a stampede of animals as he takes me in. He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t move. No reaction whatsoever. Maybe he’s waiting for me to say something first, but I’m not ready.
I break eye contact by reaching for my phone and sending out a quick text to Sully to check in on Summer. Rushing out of the bed, I grab all of my clothes. They’re all I have to wear that aren’t Victor’s pajamas. I can’t believe I’m about to do the walk of shame.
“Here,” Victor says, handing me a bag. When I eye it skeptically, he says, “It’s just a new outfit, so you don’t feel like people are judging you.”
My heart melts. The old me would’ve slung insults at him for spending money on me. But the new me can’t believe he went out of his way to get me an outfit so I wouldn’t have to do the walk of shame out of the hotel.
His arm is still outstretched, so I reach out to grab the bag. Our fingers brush against each other, lingering for a moment, and our gazes hold. There’s a question in his eyes that I can’t answer yet. My breathing turns ragged as I finally pull away, taking a much-needed step backward.
I murmur a quick thank you before bolting into the bathroom. Pulling out the clothes, I find a pair of dark jeans and a black T-shirt. No expensive tags. No extravagant purchase.
He’s paying attention and listening to what I want.
If I want to make it through the next year, I’ll have to pretend last night didn’t happen. We can never let it get any further than what already happened. Victor deserves more than me, and I’ll never stop believing that.