Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
He chuckled. “About time, cupcake. Let me know if you need any help.”
I carried the orchid downstairs and out the door, then walked the length of the building to the garbage bin. I lifted the lid and tossed the orchid inside.
The lid slammed shut and the sound echoed through the parking lot.
Eleven years I’d held onto the orchid, and somehow even unconsciously, it was holding onto Killian, too.
Walking away was hard. I wanted to go back and grab the orchid. Save it. Save us.
I looked straight ahead, uncertain if he’d seen me or not, but knowing either way, I had to do it.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
My body sagged at the sound of his voice behind me. It was as if he just handed me a piece of my heart back. His words didn’t matter because I knew he’d be angry. I wanted him to get angry.
I slowly turned, and even though he had dark circles under his eyes and his lips were pursed, and his brows were dangerously low, he was the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen.
God, I missed him. The urge to throw my arms around him was overwhelming, and I had to look away for a second to collect myself.
“Savvy, what the hell?” He stayed six feet away as if he didn’t trust himself to come any closer.
“I don’t want it anymore,” I said, lifting my chin and trying to appear as if him being here didn’t affect me.
“Bullshit,” he said.
I shrugged. “Does it matter? It’s gone, and I’m moving on.” But I wasn’t. He was my home. Wherever that may be, and however long it took to get there, this man was my home. He was just fighting it. But that ended now. “And stop watching me, damn it.”
His jaw clenched and his back stiffened. “I can’t. I fuckin’ can’t.”
Oh, God. I wanted to wrap him up in my arms and take away all the pain he’d suffered. As a kid unwanted by his father. As a teenager lost to the anger that consumed him. As a man who controlled his emotions and buried his pain.
“Well, you know what, I can’t stop hurting. I can’t stop missing you. I can’t stop feeling like I can’t breathe. And I can’t stop loving you. But I’ve accepted it. I’ve accepted that my love for you will never die and I’ll have to live with that. But I sure as hell don’t need you stalking me and reminding me of it.” I turned, swiped my fob over the pad and the front door unlocked.
“Savvy.”
I threw open the door.
“Savvy,” he growled.
I stepped inside, but I didn’t make it far before his hand grabbed my arm and he yanked me aside, pressing me into the glass. “Damn it, Savvy. You can’t throw the orchid away.”
He may have said orchid, but I knew he was saying us.
My heart pounded, and my belly fluttered as he held my wrists on either side of my head against the glass. His eyes blazed, but the green was alive and burning. The ice chips had melted.
“Kiss me,” I said. “Kiss me goodbye. Then do what you’re good at and walk away and hide behind your wall.”
His eyes narrowed and his grip tightened. It hurt, but I wanted the pain. I wanted him to hurt.
“Kiss me,” I repeated. For a split second I thought he was going to let me go as he loosened his grip, but then he swore beneath his breath before his mouth slammed against mine.
It was like jumping off a waterfall and having no idea when I was going to hit the pool beneath. Not caring. I just wanted this feeling to last forever.
His kiss was starved.
Determined. Bruising. Uncontrolled. And within all of that was love. It was him loving me without borders.
“Savvy,” he murmured against my lips. He released my wrists, and I wrapped my arms around him. He pulled back and cupped my chin, his eyes smoldering with desire, but there was a hesitancy within the depths. “I can’t give you everything you want.”
“You already have, Killian. I have a home in you. A family in you. The gift of loving you.”
“But kids….”
I weaved my fingers into his hair. “We’ll get a dog.”
There was a hint of amusement in his eyes, and I sagged into him. He would be okay. All the emotions he’d buried for so long were raw and still hurting him, but he’d be okay. We’d be okay.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ripped, crumpled piece of paper that looked like it had been soaked in water. He smoothed it out on the glass window and I saw my writing. My words. It was the note I’d written to him when I’d left that day in the rain. I remember thinking he’d never see it.