Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 37324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 187(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 187(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
That earned a small, reluctant smile from me. “You really think I should call him?”
“Or go find him.” She brushed a strand of hair behind my ear like a big sister. “But trust what you already know about him. From everything I’ve seen, Saxon Powell would rather chew glass than hurt you.”
Her confidence should’ve calmed me, but the doubt had already dug deep. I nodded anyway, not trusting my voice.
“Don’t worry about payroll, I’ll take care of it.” She gave my arm a quick squeeze and waddled toward her office. “And if you can’t get a hold of him right away, try to take a nap. You need rest, not doom-scrolling.”
As soon as she disappeared, I sank into my chair and exhaled shakily. The photo might’ve been misleading, but it didn’t stop the ache from clawing at my chest.
By the time I cleaned my station and headed out, I’d managed to convince everyone I was fine. Or at least not totally devastated.
The ache didn’t ease during my commute home. I hadn’t taken the train since the first time Saxon showed up at The Color Loft, but he wasn’t expecting me to be done with work for a couple more hours. It felt weird not to be in his SUV, but I wasn’t ready to face him yet.
Instead, I went to my apartment and curled up on my couch with the TV playing some reality show I wasn’t really watching. My phone started lighting up with texts and calls from Saxon around the time he was supposed to pick me up, but I ignored them all.
I kept my phone face down on the coffee table in front of me. It was the only way I could stop myself from checking to see what he had to say.
If this was over—if he’d grown tired of me already—I wasn’t ready for the confirmation. Not yet.
So I sat there in the dark, letting the ache spread until it filled my chest. Missing him, even when I had every reason not to.
16
SAXON
Ipressed the phone to my ear for the fourth time since leaving the salon, and her voicemail kicked in again. I didn’t even listen to the beep. I just ended the call with a swipe of my thumb and tossed the phone onto the passenger seat. My jaw clenched so hard it ached. I gripped the wheel and shifted lanes, pushing harder on the gas as the Manhattan skyline pulled closer in the distance.
I’d walked into the salon ready to bring her back with me—take her home, where I could get her naked. Instead, I found Lorna standing behind the counter with an expression that gutted me. She didn’t say anything at first. Just reached for her phone and showed me the picture.
My body had recoiled in panic and disbelief. I didn’t stay long enough to field her questions. I’d turned, bolted, and was already slamming the driver’s door before Lorna finished her sentence.
Ivy’s voicemail clicked off again, and my phone lit up with my missed call count. My fingers flexed around the wheel with so much tension the leather creaked. She wasn’t taking my calls. She wasn’t answering my texts. She was probably sitting somewhere crying her eyes out alone, because that was the kind of woman she was. She internalized and spiraled quietly.
The thought of her hurting in silence because she thought I betrayed her started a burn in my chest that spread fast.
I slammed my palm against the steering wheel—hard enough to make the horn blast and the car jerk in its lane. A few drivers honked, but I didn’t give a shit.
“Fuck!” The word tore out of me. I snatched my phone from the seat and tried again, but this time, I waited for her voicemail.
“Ivy, answer the damn phone!” I shouted before I nearly crushed the phone in my hand, then tossed it away again.
She wouldn’t answer. I knew she wouldn’t, but I’d keep trying because I hated the thought that she’d given in to the fears I’d been working so hard to overcome.
It pissed me off a little because I had busted my soul open to her from the start. I’d locked onto her like a missile from the first moment, giving her no reason to think I’d move on from her so easily.
I forced myself to breathe, to take a second, so I didn’t drive the SUV straight through red lights and get arrested on the bridge. My knuckles were white on the wheel. My teeth were clenched so tight my jaw throbbed. I needed to see her. We had to talk face-to-face. I wasn’t losing her over this trash. I wouldn’t allow it.
She was mine.
I’d told her. Shown her. Made her feel it in every touch, every kiss, every look.
Traffic thinned when I hit the island of Manhattan, and I threaded through cars, cutting lanes with precision. My mind kept replaying her face earlier when she kissed me goodbye at the salon. The softness around her eyes. That slight lean-in she did right at the end, like she didn’t want to let go. The smile she tried to hide.