Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Chapter five
I blink again and we are already pulling up to Damion’s apartment. Our apartment, if Damion has his way. But is his way my way? Not the way things are now. Not yet. I’m confused by what is happening between us. And I’m afraid of losing me in this process of finding out, and me having a solid handle on my own identity and goals has always been what saved me from brutal heartache where Damion’s concerned. Not that my identity has become what I’d strived for it to be, but I’m pretty darn grateful for where I’ve landed. I’ve come to a point where I’m not giving Damion the credit for my show as I was when I first found out he’d opened that door for me. I mean, in business, connections matter. I learned that way back in college when I was already mixing and mingling with the rich and famous, as they judged me worthy or not worthy of a future proverbial crown. Damion opened the door for me, yes, but I’ve done the camera work. I’ve made the show mine and I’m proud of what I’ve created. I’ve also held my family together most of my adult life. That took sacrifice and courage.
I glance over at Damion to find him staring at me. “What are you thinking?” he asks.
His eyes are filled with concern, and my heart squeezes at the uncertainty I read in him. I am probably, almost definitely the only person on this Earth he allows himself to be vulnerable with, because uncertainty is vulnerability, or so they taught me at Yale. And so his father taught him his entire life. But the issue here isn’t how easy it is for him to be vulnerable with me.
It’s how that becomes uncertainty.
And he is uncertain about me. That’s why the ring isn’t real, and he wants me to move in with him, not marry him. Maybe on some level he really does know our two worlds were never meant to be one. And yet, somehow, they have never been more interlinked and far apart than they are right this minute.
Damion will never intentionally hurt me. He just can’t help himself.
The door opens beside me, and when I would escape and avoid his question I’m not quite ready to answer, Damion catches my arm and pulls me around to him. His fingers press against my arm, and even through my jacket, the heat of his touch sizzles up my arm and across my chest. “What are you thinking?” he presses.
I’m drowning in the intensity of his dark eyes, swimming in a pool of lust and love that will soon be the end of me. I feel it in every part of me, but I also feel him. I feel him in every possible way, inside and out. “That you’re going to shred my heart before this is over, and I’m still going upstairs with you.”
“I would never—”
“And yet, you always do.”
“Alana,” he breathes out, his voice as rough as sandpaper and yet it’s still silk on my nerve endings. Everything about him is sandpaper and silk. I believe that’s part of what makes him so ridiculously dangerous.
“Take me upstairs,” I whisper.
A tormented look flashes in his eyes. “This conversation isn’t over.”
I nod because agreement is the only way he’ll release me, of this I’m certain. He studies me another beat, seeming to weigh my headspace, surely not about to pass his inspection. And yet, almost accepting of this fact, he reluctantly releases me. We both know we won’t talk when we get upstairs. We’ll fuck like rabbits and fall asleep. And that’s probably for the best. Morning light always brings clarity an emotional night does not. I think we can both use a good dose of sex and morning light clarity.
Chapter six
I exit the car, and I swear Damion is there before it’s physically possible, an impatience in the way he palms a large bill to the bellman. I might not have been sleeping with Damion for a very long time, but I know him like I know my own smell. He needs an outlet. He needs to be inside me. And after what his father said to me, as far as I’m concerned, that’s such a better way to cope with this night, than conversation.
I don’t want to think about what transpired with his father. I sure as heck don’t want to talk about it. I just want to get lost in Damion, and some part of me is aware I won’t have him for long. A big part of me believes I won’t and believes he feels the same of me. How can he not? Can we not? We’re always two steps from losing each other, but we have always found our way back together.