I wake in the dead of night, cold without Ashley pressed to my side. Eyes closed, my hand reaches to the other side of the king-size bed to find it empty. I jerk into a state of hyper alertness, bolting upright and glancing wildly around the room, searching for her in the dark.
Unease crawls over my skin, I flick on the light, finding the room empty. I look toward the bathroom to find the door open, the space dark.
She’s not here.
Why would she leave?
After the night we’d had?
It had been better than the first time, and I’d believed that impossible to top. We knew each other now. I care about her, I want to be with her, and it turns out everyone is right, feelings do make sex better.
I’d taken her over and over again. In the bed, on the floor, on the dresser, in the shower, water streaming down our backs. On the balcony, I’d taken her from behind, her fingers clenched on the rails, my hand over her mouth to quell her cries.
Later, back on the bed, I’d looked deep into her eyes as she’d orgasmed around my cock, and I’d kissed away tears that slipped onto her cheeks. When I’d asked her why she’d been crying she’d shaken her head and said she didn’t know.
And I understood.
What happened in this room was beyond sex. Beyond attraction and chemistry. Deep down where it mattered most, Ashley feels like she belongs to me.
I know she felt it too. It was in the expression on her face, the devotion in her blue eyes, the skim of her hand down my back, and the way she gave herself to me utterly and completely. Without reservation.
So, where in the hell is she?
I picked up the phone and called her room but there is no answer.
I dial her cell only to be met by her voicemail.
My heartbeat kicks up hard in my chest and I get up, storming around the room, looking for any clue as to where she’s gone.
I don’t care if she runs; I’m coming for her.
I don’t care if she’s older than me, or about her quest to give up men and find herself. She’s already found herself, with me.
If she insists, I’ll wait the year for her. I do not care. I’ll throw myself into work until she’s ready, but I will have her.
I drag a hand through my hair and go out on the balcony, hoping the air will cool my head allow me to think. I grip iron, letting it bite into my skin as I stare out over the beach and crashing waves.
And that’s when I spot her, out in the distance.
Her shoulders are slumped, her arms curved protectively around herself and she’s staring into the water. She’s wearing the dress from last night and she’s standing there, looking out into the fathomless ocean.
She doesn’t look happy.
Worry storms through me, furious and frantic, and in that moment it dawns on me how much I care about her. How much she’s come to mean to me in this short time. And how much I want her in my life.
I think I’m in love with her.
I’ve always followed my instincts. Always trusted my feelings. And I know what is burning a hole inside me.
It’s love. Everyone will think I’m crazy, but I don’t care. Ashley is it for me, and I’m going to trust my fucking gut.
I turn from the scene, and as fast as I can, I get dressed and I’m out the door.
I’m getting my girl.
Ashley
I clutch my phone, my shoulders shaking as I sob, staring into the vast ocean. I have to go soon. My flight is in four hours, the first available, and I have to force myself to move from this spot.
But I can’t. I’m not ready.
Because I know once I move, life is going to take over, and all this will end. It will be like a dream that never happened.
The universe, it appears, only has a short respite in mind for me. After I’d fallen into an exhausted sleep I’d woken by the sound of my phone going off. My stomach sank, because at four in the morning, I’d known it hadn’t been good news.
It was my mom, my dad suffered a minor heart attack and he was in the hospital. The doctor said he was going to be okay, but I can tell by the tremble of her voice she’s scared.
So it’s time to go. My family—my dad—needs me.
I need to be with them. But I know what it means.
This time with Christopher has come to an end. I’m not going to be given the luxury of the rest of the week.
I need to go and he needs to stay.
Now I need to make my feet move. All I need to do is take the steps. I need to pack. And then I need to say goodbye.
I’m not going to slink away this time. I’m going to face Christopher, because my feelings deserve that. At least I’ve learned that much in this brief time. I might be destined to pick men I can’t have, but I’m done pretending to play some stupid game in order to trap them into staying with me.
Someone grips my arm and swings me around.
I scream, fling out my hand in instinct to ward him off, only for my other wrist to be restrained.