Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83691 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83691 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
I shifted back in my seat and turned to look at him cautiously, like him knowing my name was the real danger. I was about to let this man take me up to his apartment and hopefully not lock me in a room forever, and I was worried about telling him my name. I needed to readjust my thought process.
“Alexandra.”
He gave a single nod. “Nice to meet you, Alexandra. I’m Erik.” He stretched his hand out and I had to fully let go of the handle and reach across to slip my hand in his. He’d touched me many times tonight. When he’d gripped my shoulders and shaken me. When he’d held my back to his body as I tried to attack Oscar. When he’d pinned me to the car. But this was the first touch he offered. It was the first touch I took. The rough calluses abraded my softer palm. His hand engulfed my smaller one, the warmth slowly working its way from where we touched to up my arm.
“Hi, Erik.”
He didn’t jerk back and neither did I. We sat for maybe five seconds, but a monumental shift happened. Like just introducing ourselves erased the last few hours and gave us a chance to start anew. Fresh.
The moment was broken when he nodded and he pulled his hand back like he’d been burned from holding on too long and got out. I followed, reaching the elevators as they opened. He scanned a card on a panel inside and hit the twenty-three. Almost the top floor. My heart raced as the doors slid closed. We’d been alone almost all night, but each door that shut on us seemed to add another barrier between me and the world. I didn’t know what that meant for me, I just prayed I hadn’t jumped out of the frying pan into the fire.
The doors slid open to a small open hallway that only held two doors. We entered the one on the left and I had to hold back my gasp when we cleared the foyer and he stepped aside revealing the view of Cincinnati. I may have had ten barriers between me and four hours ago, but here—standing in his living room with nothing but a wall of windows in front of me—I felt nothing but wide open.
“I’ve never seen so many windows in an apartment before.”
“It’s a corner unit, so it adds to the effect.”
The living room was open to both floors. The second floor had a balcony that overlooked the living room and the windows extended from the first floor all the way to the second. It was beautiful. Cincinnati’s sparkling lights winked at me in a way I’d never seen when I’d always been on the ground looking up. You could see everything from here. The Great American Tower with the woven metal lighting up like a tiara. The stadium with the river a dark streak behind it. The Roebling Bridge.
The man—Erik—came to stand by me and stared at the wonder beyond. He stood at least two feet away, but his presence emanated from him, taking up more space than anyone should be allowed. No wonder he had such a large open space. He looked like just a man but felt like so much more.
“It’s beautiful.”
“It reminds me why I love the city so much.”
We both stood still and took in the sight until a buzzing from the counter pulled his attention away. He went to check the phone vibrating across the kitchen bar and as though the sound jarred something free in me, I became aware of my situation. A manic laugh almost bubbled up as I stood there in a stranger’s apartment in nothing but black stilettos, a too-short black dress, and a purse he’d managed to grab before dragging me out. Too bad he couldn’t have grabbed my duffle bag. That held at least a toothbrush and a change of clothes.
“I’ll show you around.”
Nodding, I stumbled a few feet before deciding to discard the shoes. He watched my every step like I was prey that could run at any moment. I was an easy prey for him, I had nowhere else to run. I held his stare, having to tip my chin back when I stood next to him, waiting for him to make the next move. I wasn’t a short girl at five-seven, but next to him, I felt like a child. After another moment of scrutiny that had me fighting not to squirm, he finally got on with the tour.
“This is obviously the kitchen. Help yourself to anything inside. There’s beer in the fridge and wine right here.” He gestured to the squares built into the wall by the fridge before stopping and cocking his head to the side. “Can you drink?”
“Um, no.”
That answer brought him back to facing me, his hands in his pockets, his shoulders back like he was bracing himself. “How old are you?”