Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Locke sees it. He looks down, sees my weakness. “I’ll walk you to your room,” he says.
I nod, falling into step beside him, my brain still whirring on what just happened. Grant has been long-distance stalking me with calls, texts and cards but to show up like this has rattled me hard. That means he knows where I work, which I didn’t share with him, and he had to do some digging to find out where the team would be staying. Not impossible pieces of information to glean, but it took effort, which means he’s focused on me.
But maybe Locke scared him off for good. Or I can at least hope for that.
The elevator ride up is silent.
I watch the numbers climb, forcing even breaths with my eyes forward. I try not to think about the way Grant sounded when he leaned in close on that sidewalk. The soft certainty of it that I belonged to him.
Nope. I can’t think about that. It’s too creepy.
The doors open and I move down the hall on autopilot, key card already in my hand. I reach my door, tap the card to the reader and the light goes green. I push through the door and walk in and let the cool air of the room settle around me.
Grant found me in this huge city.
That’s the thing I can’t shake. He looked up the schedule and found the hotel. He stood on that sidewalk and forced me to talk to him. Will he come back? We have another game here in LA against the Dragons. Or what if he shows up in another city? Or back in Portland?
I’m so lost in these thoughts that I don’t hear Locke come in behind me.
“You okay?” he asks and I spin around so fast, I nearly lose my footing. I utter a sound somewhere between a gasp and a laugh, one hand going to my chest to quell my thumping heart.
Locke’s standing just inside the room, the door shut behind him. He’s watching me with quiet intensity, hands loose at his sides, taking up a lot of space.
“God.” I flatten my palm against my sternum and feel my own heartbeat galloping. “I didn’t hear you follow me in.”
“Sorry.”
“No, it’s—” I shake my head and force an overly bright smile. “I’m fine. You don’t have to stay, I’m perfectly—”
“You okay?” he asks again, taking a few steps toward me, head dipping slightly as if he’s trying to see through to my soul.
I open my mouth to say yes.
Instead, I let out a laugh that has a slightly unhinged quality to it. “I mean.” I hold up my tremoring hands between us, palms facing me, and we both look at them. “Not totally fine. I guess he scared the shit out of me.”
I look at my own hands like they’re alien appendages.
“Yeah,” I say as if it’s almost an epiphany. “He scared the shit out of me.” The words are louder than I intended, and the edge to them makes me sound like somebody else. “Which is… I mean… he was drunk, so obviously he was going to be unreasonable. I’ve dealt with Grant being unreasonable before, I know exactly what that looks like and I still—” I stop, holding my hands up before my face to look at them. “I can’t stop shaking. That’s ridiculous. He’s gone, you’re here, I’m in a locked hotel room twelve floors up and my hands are—”
“Livia.”
“I’m fine,” I blurt out in a squeaky tone. “I’m sorry, I don’t do this. I’m not a person who falls apart over things already finished. I’m sure it’s just the adrenaline and—”
Locke crosses the room and pulls me into him.
No request. No hesitation. His arms wrap around me, and one hand goes to the back of my head to press my face to his chest. It’s solid, and he’s warm and safe.
I go still for one second.
Then the tightly wound coil of tension that formed as soon as I saw Grant’s silhouette through the bus window breaks free and I let out a quavering, breathy moan of release.
Locke’s hand moves slowly across my back, making large, soothing circles. He doesn’t say a word.
I don’t know how long we stand there but it’s long enough for my pulse to calm and my hands to steady. Certainly long enough for me to become aware of other things, like the warmth of Locke’s body and how good he smells after his shower at the arena.
I lift my head and find him staring down at me. Our faces are very close, and I have approximately one more second to back away.
Instead, I go to my tiptoes and kiss him.
As I expected, he kisses me back. It’s immediate and with zero reluctance, almost as if he had been waiting for this.
There are no thoughts of Grant, and certainly not about my job and how this is crossing a line. It’s just my hands finding the front of his shirt and my mouth finding his.