Love Me Like That (7 page)

Once the coffee starts to drip, I make my way to the den and toss several more logs on the fire. The waves of heat are hitting my skin, reminding me of the way London’s breath felt on my chest when I woke up this morning. I turn my back to the fire, shutting that shit down as well as I can.

Another quick glance at the drawer in the den makes me want to scream. Nothing ever goes my way these days. I can’t even kill myself in fucking peace. It’s like the universe is cosmically against any plans I ever try to make.

I know it took me over an hour to make it to her car and back so the water heater should have warmed the water for showers. I grab her suitcases and set them outside of her door and make my way to my room for a quick shower.

Fighting the urge to stay under the hot stream in the shower, I wash quickly and get out. I know London will want to wash her horrible day from yesterday away, so I did my best to use as little hot water as possible. My consideration of her now doesn’t take away the guilt from last night when her needs were the farthest thing from my mind. Regret for London, another thing I can take with me to my grave.

Wash it away. I wish it were that easy. I wish I would’ve taken the aftermath into consideration, given a second thought to the situation, knowing we’d be stuck in this house with no escape for several more days. I dress quickly and make my way back out into the hall. Her suitcases are still sitting outside of her door.

There is still a bit of coolness in the air, the generator having a lot of catching up to do since the power was off all night. She has to be freezing in there. I didn’t want to wake her;
you didn’t want to face her
, when I left this morning, so her fire has to have burned out by now.

I head downstairs to grab her a cup of coffee. I don’t know how she takes it, but I make it girly with lots of sugar and creamer and hope for the best. My gentle tap on her door goes unanswered, as does the harder knock. I twist the handle and peer into the room. For a second, I think the room is empty until I see the lump on her bed move slightly.

I pull the suitcases from the hallway and leave them just inside of her door, sure to make noise because I don’t want to startle her. I walk slowly to the side of the bed and set the cup of coffee on the bedside table.

“London?” Her body shifts again on the bed. “I brought you a cup of coffee.”

I walk to her fireplace and put the remaining logs in and set it ablaze. The room is freezing still. I know things are going to be awkward between us. Nothing worse than the day after with a stranger when you can’t just get up and leave.

I sit on the edge of the bed and tug the covers back, exposing her head and shoulders. She turns her head and makes eye contact with me. I notice two things. One she’s freezing, and her entire body is shivering and two, there is no denying the regret in her eyes as they break their brief contact with mine. She sits up on the bed near the headboard.

My protective instincts are the first to respond, and I reach out to hold her, knowing she could use the warmth of my body. I frown when she wraps her arms tighter around her waist and scoots further out of my reach. She clearly doesn’t want to be touched.

I nod at her in understanding.

“I grabbed your suitcases from your car.” I tilt my head toward the door.

She cranes her neck, looking around me to the two nondescript cases. “You were able to drive down there?” Her voice is hopeful, and I know she’s imagining she’s going to get out of here quicker than she’d thought.

I can’t help but laugh thinking about what I went through to get them back to the house. “No. I walked down there and got them.”

She frowns. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s no big deal,” I lie. I’m certain I may have frostbite on my ass from the experience. “Your car is practically buried, and it’ll be a few more days until we can even attempt to get it out.”

I’m surprised to find myself saddened at the way she drops her head, clearly not happy with being stuck here with me.

A few more days!

A few more days of being stranded with the Forbidden Fruit, a fruit that I’m well aware just how delicious it is? Like my life hasn’t been bad enough lately?

“I’ll get you more wood up here for the fireplace, but I was able to get the generators going. We should be good on power now.” He stands from the side of the bed; giving me the distance my mind says it needs.

My body? That traitorous bitch is screaming for him to come right back and climb under the covers with me.

Married! The hand reaching out for me just a minute ago proved it in the form of a solid platinum band on his ring finger.

It’s exhausting having to remind myself of that fact, a fact that is so blatantly evident right now as he twists his damn wedding ring on his hand. The act is subconscious like he’s done it for years and doesn’t even realize it.

“You should have plenty of hot water for a shower.” He turns away from me and begins walking toward the door.

“Kadin?” My voice is soft and quiet, but he hears me and turns to face my direction, his hand just reaching out for the doorknob. “Last night.”
Last night was perfect
.

He remains silent even though I’m hoping he will be the one to finish.

“Last night was a mistake.” He shows no emotion; once again his face is completely stoic. “I think it was a bad idea.”

Silence.

“I don’t think it should happen again.” I hang my head, the blank look on his face making me uncomfortable. “It won’t happen again.”

He nods and walks out, closing the door softly behind him.

“You’re the one with the fucking wife,” I mutter in his direction.

Now that we got that out of the way I hope things don’t have to be awkward, but I know they will. After last night and seeing the tent in the front of his pants less than an hour ago I can’t keep my eyes away from his crotch. Not a good sign of how the next few days of seclusion are going to go.

I close my eyes and take a calming breath, the faint smell of coffee invading my senses. I cut my eyes to the cup of heaven sitting on the bedside table.

Would he poison me?

I release a weak chuckle.
You slept with him last night; without protection
. My brain reminds me.
Now you’re worried about your safety
.

I mentally shut those thoughts down and reach for the cup of steaming liquid. It’s sweet and creamy, just how I like it.

Perfect.

Another item to add to the long list of irresistible things about him. Put that right under
body like a Greek god
and
fucks like it’s his job
.

I need something to occupy my mind and as much as I’d love to go for a run and exhaust my body, that’s not an option. I set the half empty cup of coffee back down on the table and get out of the bed.

I grab my smaller suitcase and roll it behind me into the bathroom. It has all the essentials I’ll need for a long hot shower. Stepping into the bathroom for the second time today, I let my eyes dart between shower and the garden tub that’s tucked away in the corner of the massive bathroom.

I have nothing but time, so I opt for a long hot bath rather than a shower. I didn’t grab bath salts or oils when I packed my belongings so this will be a plain old bath, but with the tension in my body it will be glorious none the less. Well, this bath will be about as plain as a sunken tub with half a dozen water jets can be.

Clutching my shampoo, conditioner, and shower gel to my chest with one hand I turn the water on in the tub with the other. I pin my hair back for the time being with a clip from my makeup bag and step gingerly into the water that is steadily filling the tub.

I lay back and wait for the water to fill as high as possible before it would be considered too deep and would overflow onto the floor. I raise my foot into the stream of soothing yet near scorching water and frown at the condition of my toenail polish. Another thing to add to the list of stuff to get done once I get settled. The first being that visit to a clinic for bloodwork and a full STD panel.

I only have two things my mind seems to be able to focus on right now. The first being Trent, Keira, and their deceit. The second of course is the adulterer downstairs. Neither being something I want to have to think about right now.

I try to focus on moving forward and what I’ll do once I leave here. Go to Spokane, find an apartment, and get a job. Seems easy enough. I have a vast array of skills and work experience that will quickly open doors in numerous markets. If I don’t find work right away, that is fine too. I have quite a bit in savings, and that is one thing I’m grateful to Trent for. Had I known I’d be in this situation I never would’ve bought the Mini Cooper.

As I let the jets of hot water blast over my body my head takes me back to Trent and the years we spent together. Loving, dedicated, and attentive.

All of it
fake
. For a brief second, I wonder if I could forgive him. I question whether packing up and just leaving was the right thing to do. If throwing six years of happiness away is the right decision. Then I remember that I’m not throwing anything away. He is responsible for this outcome. My happiness was a lie. My happiness was an illusion that they wanted me to see, not an accurate reflection of how things actually were.

I stay in the bathtub until the circulating water begins to chill. Praying there’s enough hot water left, I drain the tub and hit the shower to wash and condition my hair. I towel off quickly and wrap a towel around my hair. I slip on panties before making my way out of the bathroom to grab my hair dryer and more clothes from my other suitcase.

Looking down at the poor condition of my fingernails, a consequence of working in a fast-paced bar the past three months, I hear
fuck
in a husky voice, causing my eyes to dart up.

Standing across the room is Kadin with an armful of fire logs. He’d mentioned bringing some wood up, but I had no idea he meant he was going straight down to get it. I also didn’t bother to lock the door behind him when he left earlier.

I screech at his intrusion and try to hide my exposed body, not missing the sweep of his eyes over my topless form. Whipping off the towel from my head, I do my best to cover my body. He looks confused, standing there glancing from the wood in his arms and back to me, like he doesn’t know what to do with them but feels the need to escape.

Snapping out of his trance, he quickly gives me his back as he drops the wood into the log holder and turns to the door. “Sorry,” he mutters and shuts the door roughly behind him.

I don’t know how long I stand in the middle of the room staring at the closed door. So much for thinking the awkwardness would go away. I’m more affected now with him seeing my breasts in the full light of the day
sober
than I was last night drunken in the dark. Combine that with the bulge that couldn’t be denied in the front of his pants when he turned sideways to leave the room and my head is all mixed up again.

Sighing, I lock the bedroom door, preventing any further surprises, grab my suitcase and roll it into the bathroom. I’ll keep everything in here until I leave to avoid another ambush by my host.

With nothing else to do I stay in the room and fix, to the best of my ability, my toenail polish. I wish I could say I just didn’t pack all of my things but hot pink nail polish is all that I own. So that’s what my toes got. Unable to charge my now dead phone since I left the charger in the car, I stand in the bathroom and tap my foot, trying to figure out something else to occupy my time.

Over the next couple of hours, I’ve painted my toes and fingernails, straightened and then curled my hair, and I’ve even put on a light layer of makeup, which I promptly take back off. Well, mostly. All I had was waterproof mascara, and it’d take an hour to clean my lashes of that mess.

Just as I climb on the bed to take a nap, my stomach growls reminding me that I haven’t eaten anything all day. As much as I’d love to avoid Kadin, I’m not going to sit in here and starve. I’ll have to make sure to leave him some cash when I leave, repayment for his hospitality and use of his amenities.

Once in the kitchen, I notice a small note on the counter written in an apparent male hand.
Sandwich in the fridge.