Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t see the person in front of me until I nearly bumped into her.
Emily.
Fuck.
As always, she looked impeccably put together—vibrant pink trousers, a soft denim blouse, blonde waves falling in perfect silk over her shoulders. Even while I contemplated throat-punching her, the woman in me had to admit I understood why Lucian—or anyone—would want her.
God. I did not need this now.
“Shit. Sorry,” I muttered, moving to step around her.
“It’s okay. I’ve actually been meaning to come find you,” she said, offering a tentative smile.
I bit back a groan and attempted a smile in return, though I was fairly certain it looked more like a grimace. “Maybe another time. I have something I’m in the middle of and have to get going.”
I tried to step around her again, but she moved with me, lifting her hands in surrender. “This will just take a minute. Promise.”
I clenched my jaw and exhaled sharply. “What?” I asked, the word edged with more bite than I bothered to soften.
She flinched at my tone but pressed on. “Listen, I just wanted to say I’m sorry. About…well, everything. I’m not usually such a bitch. Definitely not a vengeful one.”
A snort escaped before I could stop it. She could have fooled me.
“It’s just,” she continued, ignoring my reaction, “I came to you—woman to woman—and asked if you two were together. I confessed about how I felt because I didn’t want any of that petty, catty drama. It’s hard for me to open up like that, but I’ve admired you and assumed you were the kind of woman who would respect honesty.”
Guilt twisted low in my stomach.
I was that kind of woman.
But the last few months with Lucian had put me in situations I barely recognized myself in. Most of the changes were good..
This one… not so much.
“To be direct, I was pissed when I found out you lied,” she said.
“Emily, I didn’t lie. We weren’t in a relationship. Things at the time were complicated and…” I searched for the right explanation, but when I thought back to everything we were—the spanking, the orgasms, the thrill of it all—and everything we weren’t—no feelings, no future—the words tangled and died. “It’s just that…” I sighed. “I didn’t lie.”
“I get it.” One corner of her mouth lifted in a rueful smile. “Either way, I acted out of line, and I’m embarrassed. Especially because I did it over a guy I knew better than to want.”
“Don’t be.” I shook my head and huffed a dry laugh. “God knows we’ve all done stupid shit over a guy we shouldn’t.”
That statement rang more than true considering the chaos of the last few months. I mean, Jesus, just look at the situation I found myself in.
She rolled her eyes in commiseration. “Thanks for hearing me out.”
As much as I hated everything she’d done—the situations she created that made me feel like shit, especially the night that broke Lucian and me—I didn’t want to carry a grudge.
Knowing Lucian never followed through on the demonstration helped a lot, too.
Between that and still feeling the urgency to go find him as soon as I could, forgiveness was easier than I expected.
“Thanks for apologizing.”
“Are we okay?” she asked hesitantly.
Kind of, I wanted to say. Instead, I offered an easy smile and took the high road. “Of course.”
“Great.” She beamed at me with her full pink lips and bright blue eyes—annoying me with how perfect she looked.
“But I have to go.”
“Of course. Of course.”
This time, when I stepped past her, she let me go.
I rounded the corner to my office, coming up with ways I might be able to see Felix, to support Grace…to be there for Lucian, when I noticed a tall, familiar figure looming in front of my door. My steps slowed, and I watched Lucian raise his hand, hesitate, and drop it away before pacing two steps and starting again.
My heart strained toward him, heavy and hurting with everything I still wanted.
But each day, I forced myself to remember all the ways he’d clarified not wanting the same as me—to remember the horrified look on his face when I’d told him I loved him. Reminding myself again, I swallowed, rolled my shoulders back, held my chin high, and locked my icy armor around the empathy and need to comfort him.
“Lucian,” I called just as he raised his hand again to knock.
“Hey,” he breathed.
I recoiled when he fully turned, shocked into spilling words from my lips. “You look like shit.” His usual stubble was almost a beard; dark circles hung heavy under his dull eyes, and his casual jeans and sweater were wrinkled. “Sorry, that was rude.”
He looked down and laughed softly, shoving his hands in his pockets before slowly raising his loaded gaze to mine. “And you look beautiful, as always.”