“I see.” He nodded tersely, taking a bite of another calamari. “Did he tell you that?”
“Um. No.” I rubbed at my face, struggling to understand why I was so upset and, even more importantly, why Christian was looking at me like I’d just told him I’d murdered his dog. “My dad told me. It was all very . . .” Abusive and insane. “Sudden.”
“Did you ever try contacting him?”
His interest in this story seemed peculiar. So many years had passed. Besides, like he’d said, we weren’t in it for the long haul. Why did he care about my past?
“I did, in fact.” I started picking calamari and fries from my linen and putting them back in Christian’s bowl. “But then when he didn’t answer, I figured I dodged a bullet. A guy who walks out of your life without even leaving you a note is not worthy of your time, thoughts, and efforts.”
That was a flat-out lie. I knew exactly why Nicky hadn’t contacted me—because I didn’t deserve anything from him after what my own father had done to him.
“What about you?” I asked. “Any special someone over the years?”
Christian smiled, somewhat recovered from the topic, reaching over toward me to grab the bottle of water we shared and taking a sip. “None at all, in fact.”
“Lucky you.”
“Yeah, lucky me.”
Three more times, we tumbled atop each other, sheets tangled, fighting for dominance, for skin, for contact. We learned each other’s shapes, likes, and dislikes. How to move like a current. We used condoms, and I made a mental note to stop by the pharmacy the next day for some Plan B. Christian was a generous lover. He seemed to know exactly what I wanted, when I wanted it, how deep, and how fast.
Finally, when we collapsed at around one in the morning, sweaty and spent, it was sort of understood—maybe even expected—that he’d stay the night. We both wanted to put off the inevitable.
“But won’t you be late for court? Between going back to your apartment, getting all showered and dressed?” I asked.
Christian pointed out that any rookie lawyer knew to keep a fresh and ironed spare suit at their office, and that was that.
Which was why I didn’t expect to wake up the next day to an empty bed.
The side where Christian had slept was cold, the linen pressed like he’d never been there. The only evidence he had actually been here the night before was his lingering scent of expensive aftershave and decadent sex. Oh, and the pulse between my thighs, a light, persistent heartbeat, and the bite marks that covered me.
I peeked at the time on my nightstand clock. Eight thirty. Groaning, I closed my eyes and pressed my face to my pillow. When I pried my eyelids open again, I rolled over to my stomach and reached for my phone. There were four messages and seven emails. All of them from clients. There was also one missed call from my mother.
He told you it wasn’t serious. Were you expecting a romantic breakfast with a side of cuddling?
For a second, I marveled at the irony. My father had insinuated I should sleep with Christian to help him, and I’d ended up sleeping with him indeed but had no plans to help the old man.
I blinked, adjusting to the light streaming from the window. Cocking my head, I noticed something peculiar about my bookshelves. An empty space that hadn’t been there before. I shuffled out of my bed, still stark naked, and padded barefoot to my shelf. My hand ran over the spines, arranged in alphabetical order. My fingers stopped at the empty space. I knew what was missing. It was a book imprinted into my DNA. My most precious possession.
Atonement.
This was why he hadn’t left a note or a message. Why he hadn’t stuck around. He knew I’d be the one to make the first move. After all, he held something of mine hostage.
Bastard had stolen my favorite book.
I held myself together.
I didn’t call or text him.
At the office, Jillian examined me from behind her cup of coffee, arching a knowing eyebrow and leaning against the printer while I waited for it to spew a contract for a new client.
“Long night?” She hmmed.
I felt myself burning scarlet, realizing I wasn’t even sure whether she had come back home or not. At least I knew I was on top of work these days, so this wasn’t a dig.
“This space is a nonjudgment zone.” I picked up the warm papers, motioning to the space between us while holding them.
Jilly put one hand up in surrender, taking another sip. “I’m not judging; I’m curious. And a little jealous, obviously. Is it serious?”
“Nope. The relationship’s doomed from the start.” I stapled the pages together, making my way to my seat. She followed me like a piranha, smelling blood.
Just because Christian and I hadn’t addressed the elephant (or rather, lawsuit) in the room didn’t mean I wasn’t aware of it. The only thing that had changed was I no longer craved to hang his indiscretions over his head.
“Why bother, then?”
“Life’s too short.” I shrugged, taking a seat in front of my laptop, uncapping my Sharpie to go through the contract one more time.
“How very un-Arya of you,” she laughed. “Fine. I’ll revisit this again when we get back home. But Ari?”
“Yes?”
“Be careful if you see Christian. Charming as he may be, you know nothing about one of the most eligible bachelors in NYC.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHRISTIAN
Present
I tucked the hard copy of Atonement under the loose floor plank beneath my bed. You’d think a brand-new building in Manhattan, with real parquet, wouldn’t have slack tiles, and you would be absolutely correct. The reason it was loose was because I’d ripped it with my bare hands so I’d have somewhere to hide all the legal documents I never wanted anyone to find. A safe was highly predictable. It practically screamed to be opened. But no one was going to unglue the floor pieces under my bed.