Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 112701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
The shift from making out in my office to discussing Diosa is jarring, but she handles it like a pro.
Good.
Hopefully, we’ll be able to move past this.
“Good night, then,” she says, glancing my way one more time.
“Good night, Raven.”
I watch as she slips out the door, leaving me alone in the quiet office to replay what had occurred here earlier.
Pouring myself a tumbler of whiskey, I throw it back, the liquid burning all the way down. I quickly pour another, hoping to chase away these errant thoughts.
I have to forget about the way she feels.
The way her body molds to mine perfectly.
The taste of cinnamon on her breath.
Trying to forget about Raven Bennett isn’t going to be difficult. It’s going to be impossible.
I’m a selfish motherfucker.
I throw the tumbler across the room, and it bursts into a thousand tiny pieces against the wall.
My mind is jumbled with ideas and questions about why I can’t have her. Why it would be a horrible idea to throw my cares to the wind and take her like I want to.
Then I remember the look on her face when I pulled away.
The hurt.
The shame.
I might be a bastard, but I won’t ever be the cause for that look on Raven’s face again.
I’ll stay away because it’s what’s best for her.
It’s what’s best for the company I’ve worked so hard to build and the people it supports.
The people who count on me in the office and at the cancer center.
I must do the best for all of them.
22
Raven
I’m so angry with myself that I could scream. I knew to be careful around Charles, but I’d let my guard down yet again.
The moment I get home, I slam back three shots of tequila, needing to feel anything but the overwhelming shame.
I try to call Lily, but she’s not answering.
I dial Asher next, but he’s also ignoring my calls.
He’s pulled away, too.
Turning on the TV, I attempt to watch an episode of Friends, but I can’t concentrate. My mind whirls with everything from memories of how his fingers felt inside me to the look on his face when he ended it.
Anger had pulsed from him.
As though I’d somehow been fully responsible for his actions.
He was the one who gave in.
It was his mouth that crashed against mine.
His hands slid up my thighs.
His fingers damn near pushed me over the edge.
I switch off the television, throwing the remote onto a chair across from me before pouring two more shots and slamming them back.
The prior shots are already affecting me. My head is starting to swim, and my toes tingle. A sure sign that I’m one shot away from total insobriety.
Good. I need the escape from my own mind.
How dare he pin everything on me?
He may not have said the exact words, but his expression—his body language—practically screamed it.
He looked at me as though I had orchestrated the kiss, which seemed to be his MO. I might’ve leaned in, but I didn’t force him to make the next move.
If he’s truly blaming me for his lack of control, that’s bullshit.
Before I can think better of it, I dial my mom’s number.
“Raven?” My mom’s voice is thick with sleep, and I immediately burst into tears.
Regret pulling me down.
Good grief.
I did not need those last two shots.
I’m so emotional, and even with my mom cooing soothing words into the phone, I can’t stop the torrent of tears flowing down my face.
“What’s wrong, baby girl?” she asks, and I cringe.
What did I think would happen when I called her after midnight, crying like a lunatic?
“Is this about your boss?”
I want to crawl into a hole as soon as she asks. How is she so perceptive?
Sure, she knew I was working late tonight with him, but why did her mind immediately go to Charles?
I don’t bother denying it. It would be pointless anyway.
“I messed up, Mom.”
“What happened?” There’s no judgment in her voice, only concern. She’s always been my rock. The person I know would never turn their back on me, no matter the mistakes I make. The very last person I ever wanted to disappoint.
I burst out crying again before I even have a chance to say anything.
“Raven. Talk to me. What’s wrong?” she presses.
“We kissed. I . . . let things get carried away.”
The memory of what we did crashes against me, and I nearly buckle over. I feel sick to my stomach.
“Take a deep breath and tell me everything,” she says, sounding alert for the first time since I called.
“I-I can’t. I don’t w-want you to know,” I say through hiccups.
She sighs. “There isn’t a thing in the world you could tell me that would make me think less of you, Raven Marie. I love you unconditionally.”
Those words break the last of my resolve.
Unconditionally.
I tell her absolutely everything, and it only makes me feel worse.