Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 136743 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136743 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
She nods and turns to Adam, squeezing his shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”
As soon as we reach the hall and the door closes behind us, I stretch my arms out and Tremaine steps into them. “You okay?”
She allows herself to sag against me for a second, and I know that despite her apparent composure, she’s shaken. Hell, I’m shaken. It’s been a long time since we were in a hospital with Adam, and it never gets less terrifying.
“I’m fine.” I can almost see her mentally pulling the pieces of her composure back into place. “You’re the best dad. You know that?”
“Only if you admit you’re the best mom.” I pull away and give her hand a squeeze. “Tell Kent hello for me when you talk to him.”
“Will do, and don’t think you’ve gotten out of spilling all the tea about Ms. Charles,” she says, the first sign of teasing since all of this went down today. “You’ve been dodging my questions for weeks.”
I stiffen and force the sudden tension from my shoulders. “I’ve been busy is what I’ve been.”
“Well, now that the crisis is averted, you’ll have to tell me everything.”
I twist my lips into a rueful curve. “Oh, there’s not much to tell.”
“It didn’t work out?” Tremaine frowns, placing her hand on my arm to stop me from leaving.
I can’t bring myself to admit that. I’m not sure it won’t work out. I know Soledad cares about me, and I know she wants something with me, but I’m not sure it’s the same thing I need from her. Until we’re on the same page, what do we have?
“Let’s just say it’s still being worked out,” I settle on. “When there’s something to spill, you’ll be the first to know.”
“She seems amazing. Don’t screw it up.”
“Yeah, I’ll try my best. I’ll call from the house so you can see Aaron before he goes to bed.”
“Thank you.”
I turn my phone back on as soon as I walk down the hall. I called Ms. Coleman to ask her to stay with Aaron at the house, then turned the phone off because I was getting so many calls from the office. As soon as it’s back on, sure enough, missed calls and text messages from CalPot flood my phone.
“They can wait till tomorrow,” I mutter, looking up to orient myself and find the elevators. When I round the corner, I come to a complete stop, jarred by the sight of the woman alone in the waiting room.
“Sol?”
She’s curled up in one of the pleather sofas, but she stands immediately and walks over to me, concern etched all over her face.
“Hey. Sorry to ambush you this way, but I heard about Adam and wanted to make sure he was okay. That you’re okay.”
“He’s fine now.”
“Oh, thank God.” Her shoulders slump, and she closes her eyes, breathing out her relief.
Uncertainty pins my arms to my sides. I’ve missed her so much, and holding her, being held by her is exactly what I want after a day like this one, but I’m not sure where we stand after our last conversation.
“How’d you know?” I ask.
“Inez told me when she came home from school. She was worried about Adam. I guess a lot of students were after the ambulance came. She figured I would want to know.”
“Oh, wow.” I clear my throat and slide the phone back into my pocket. “Thanks for coming. For checking on us.”
“Of course.” She looks up and toward the bank of elevators. “Were you on your way out or…”
“Yeah. I need to get home to Aaron. Tremaine’s staying here with Adam tonight.”
Her face falls, her expression shuttering. “Oh. I don’t want to hold you up. I know you—”
“I could walk you to your car?”
From habit, my hand strays to the small of her back, and her muscles tense. It’s been two weeks, and this lightest touch feels incendiary, flaring heat from one tiny point of contact. The silence tightens around us, broken by the faint ping of the elevator as it descends.
“It’s only one floor,” she says, eyes lifted and fixed on the elevator’s lit numbers. “I think I’ll take the stairs. Get my steps in.”
“Good idea.” I turn to scan the smooth lines of her profile. “Let’s take the stairs.”
She turns to look at me, and the air between us is scorched with desire and longing and desperation. We walk swiftly to the stairs. As soon as the door closes and we’re alone in the stairwell, we reach for each other. She presses me to the wall, which should feel comical since she’s half my size but is such a turn-on because her hunger claws its way to the surface, calling mine out to wrestle with hers. Our teeth knock and our lips bump and our hands scramble to find purchase on any parts of each other’s body we can. She clasps my neck, grips my ass, cups my face—all while straining up on her tiptoes to take the kiss deeper. It’s a honeycomb kiss with sweetness hidden in crevices, tucked under her tongue and in the sweet lining of her mouth. I squeeze her butt and lift, grunting when she wraps her legs around my waist.