Page 40 of Ache
“Do what? Talk? I know—”
“Alec,” Mr. Turner, the firm’s founding partner, picks the most inopportune time to interrupt us. He breezes past Everly with a file folder in his hand, heavily engrossed in its contents. “The clients are here for the deposition, but I have some questions about these notes you jotted down. Let’s talk before we get started.”
I inwardly heave. This day just keeps getting better and better.
“I’ll be in your office in just a minute.”
“Nonsense, we’re here now. No need to shuffle rooms.” The older man with graying hair and intimidating power suit drops the folder onto my desk, and it sounds like rocks hitting pavement.Worst. Timing. Ever.
Everly clears her throat. “I’ll let you two talk.” She steps backward away from us. Mr. Turner looks at her over his shoulder, as if just realizing she was standing there.
“Are you feeling all right, Miss Paige? You don’t look well.” He sounds genuinely concerned.
“No, Mr. Turner,” her voice squeaks. “I’m not feeling that well.”
“Go home then, young lady. Get yourself well. Can’t have one of our rising stars all run down.” He winks at her.
“I’ll do that.” Everly smiles weakly, glancing at me. Our swift eye contact feels like a puncture wound. Something is so fucking wrong. I can feel it in my bones.
I’m locked in a steel box. Trapped. I can’t demand her to stay, and I can’t avoid the man standing in front of me. Too much is at stake. Too many careers on the line. Too many emotions blowing in the wind.
Everly disappears, and my heart crumples like a piece of paper. A wicked fear grabbing hold.
In the short time we’ve been together, she has come to mean so much more to me than I could have ever imagined. Her absence has me longing for her, and she’s only been gone several seconds. Without her by my side, a piece of me is missing. I handed over part of myself, and I didn’t even realize it. And she took it with no hesitation.
The question now is what is going to happen to that piece of me?
What is going on with Everly, and how can I protect her from whatever it is?
18
Tage
Iwander the city aimlessly. Thoughts of Everly consuming my mind. Last night. Every heavenly second of it I relive over and over. And every hellish moment of this morning, as well. A tumultuous uncertainty is storming inside me. She regrets it. She regrets being with me because another man has moved into her heart. A heart that is supposed to belong solely to me. A heart that has always been mine. Even when I destroyed it. The wrong thing for the right reasons has never sucked so much.
There is no other option for us now, though. I won’t let her go again, so whatever she’s feeling for Alec Prescott is going to evaporate. I’m going to make her forget him. I’m going to make it like he never existed.
Everly belongs to me, and no one is going to come between us again.
No one is going to fuck it up again. Especially me.
I sit on a park bench with the warm June air rippling the waves of my overgrown hair. I’m on my fifth cup of coffee and jittery as hell. It has nothing to do with the caffeine, though. I just want to be with Everly. I want to be standing beside her, inhaling her sweet scent and running my hands along her curves. I want her smiling at me the way she once did. Kissing me passionately, sighing contently. Her sounds always get me. Make me crumble. Make me hard, make me wanton, make me happy.
She is the only thing that has ever made me truly happy.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I check the message. Work. Always work. It’s my addiction and my downfall. I can never say no because I live for the high. For the danger. For the unknown.
The message from the private caller reads:
A friendly facehas made an appearance in New York. Thought you should know just in case you wanted to say hi.
I scrollthough the several surveillance pictures that accompany the text, and the spike in my blood pressure almost makes my head explode.
I jump up off the bench, sending my coffee flying as I rush to the closest street. I hail a cab in record time as I track Everly down. She doesn’t know it, but I’m tapped into the GPS on her phone so I know where she is at all times.
A quick ride through midtown and I am jumping out the taxi door right in front of her apartment building. I refrained from stalking her all day, for sanity's sake, but it’s after five, so it’s no surprise she’s home.
I race up the three flights of stairs and almost barrel through her front door, but I stop myself at the last second. We are navigating on delicate waters right now, and the last thing I want to do is upset her more. We have a lot to talk about. A lot, way more than just what transpired last night.
