We both chuckle.
“You look hot as hell sitting on my lap like this.” His half-lidded expression has me thinking the same of him. He grabs the tissues I hold in my hand and proceeds to wipe me, but instead of cleaning me up, it turns us both on. I watch in fascination as his dick springs to life. Not bothering to ask, I take it in my hand, lift my hips, and impale myself on it. His hands move from my thighs to my hips and his fingers sink into my flesh as he lifts me up and down, helping me, guiding me. My hands settle on his shoulders and I rest my forehead on his for a second, until he says, “Kiss me, Cate.”
This is one of those moments when you think back and remember how silly it all is, but here we are, in a car for Pete’s sake, having some of the hottest sex. But that’s not all it is. It’s the way he stares, the way he breathes my name, the way his hands hold me. And it’s what’s happening to my heart. Drew McKnight is tangling himself in it until I don’t know which part of it is him or which part is me. And what I thought would scare me doesn’t. Not one single bit. I want to fall with this man. And I want to fall hard. But I think I already have. The question is—how does Drew feel?
I don’t have to wait to find out. Because we both climax shortly after, and as we sit in the aftermath, he lightly kisses me and says against my lips, “Catelyn Forbes, I love everything there is about you. I never thought there’d be someone like you. I’m not a believer in there only being one person for each of us. But I know damn well it’s hard to find that perfect match. You are my perfect match. Please tell me I’m not alone in the way I feel.”
I brush his hair off his forehead and say, “You’re not alone, Drew. I love you, too.”
MY CHEST CONSTRICTS AS I watch Andy drive away. I berate myself for not being able to speak and say something to keep him from walking away. It all feels too familiar and I have to force myself inside my building.
The elevator closes in on me, making it feel claustrophobic. The pain of the day comes back and I wonder if I can ever get past it. I miss the carefree girl I used to be, the one that could laugh and look forward to a bright future. Now the gloominess of winter pulls me into darkening clouds. Life has lost its luster and I think I might have lost the one shot I had at happiness.
When the doors open, I shoot out like a light. I wonder how I can blur the lines between the past and the future. Guilt is what holds me back. Yet the promise of love is what pushes me forward.
I strip out of the dress and jewelry. I let my hair tumble down onto my shoulders. Then I step into a cleansing shower. The guilt of walking out of the hospital room as requested, and then of running out and leaving things, presses on my chest like a fifty pound weight. I don’t know how to forgive myself. I don’t know how to move on. As water sloshes over me, I make a decision.
After dressing in comfy pjs, I pick up my phone and begin to type. I hesitate for a second and read over my words before I hit send.
ME: I’m sorry.
I stare at the wall a long time waiting for a response and get nothing before sleep claims me. Sunday rolls in with snow flurries. I get laundry done and begin work on the policies and procedures manual I’m writing for Ted’s accounting department because I’m just that lame. I chat with Mandy and Jenna for only a few minutes each, really not up for conversation.
Mom calls and complains about Shannon. Apparently, she missed curfew. My bother has a girlfriend that my mother describes as the princess of doom in all her black, from clothes, to lipstick, to nail polish and hair. She’s out of sorts and Dad now thinks he has some rare disease she can’t pronounce because he has five of the seven symptoms, which are the same symptoms you get with the common cold according to her. I finally get her off the phone and take stock of my life. I’m alone with no dating prospects because I’m not going to France with Ted no matter how rich he is. I never get butterflies when I’m with him. I’ve had butterflies before and I can’t settle for less than that.
When Monday arrives, the snow is falling in thick clumps, accumulating on the roads and sidewalks. I walk to my office because there is a delayed opening for Ted’s office. Cabin fever won’t allow me to stay in; I need to get out before the walls press in on me any further.
Once I get to the office, it feels like I haven’t seen my desk in ages. Because the snow is coming down hard, the place is pretty vacant even as late as nine, when usually the office is bustling by this hour.
“Cate.” I glance up and see Daniel in my doorway. “Do you have a minute?”