Then There Was You: New York Times Best Selling Author

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Then There Was You: New York Times Best Selling Author Page 17

by Claire Contreras


  “Obviously not. Who the hell is there at this time? Isn’t it almost one in the morning there?”

  “Yeah.” I pressed to my tiptoes, looked through the peephole, and frowned. “It’s Rowan.”

  “What the hell?”

  I stayed on my toes and inspected him better. He was wearing a black T-shirt that stretched over his expansive chest, his hair was in disarray, and his expression was completely blank. I heard my sister’s protest as I hung up the phone and pulled the door open slowly.

  “What are you—”

  He stepped forward, cupped the back of my neck, and crashed his mouth to mine.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Rowan

  I was being impulsive. When had I ever been this impulsive? I broke apart from her lips when I felt her hands on my chest, pushing me away. Her eyes opened slowly, as if in a daze, which was exactly how I felt.

  “What are you doing here?”

  I pressed my forehead to hers, closed my eyes, and breathed against her in a plea, begging her not to let go, not yet. I wished I could summon the words to my lips, but it would be no use. Even if I could speak the words aloud, I wouldn’t. I shouldn’t.

  It isn’t fair to her, Rowan.

  None of this was. Yet, there I stood, wishing for things that wouldn’t come true.

  “Just give me two days, Tess,” I managed to say against her lips. “Two days, no holds barred. Just us.”

  She pulled back slightly, her eyes searching mine. I could tell she wanted to say yes. I wanted to pull the words out of her. Instead, I held my breath and awaited her response.

  “Two days?” she asked, holding my gaze steady. I nodded. “That seems so little for something so big.”

  I fought a grin, fought the stupid, childish comment of, “That’s what she said.”

  She’d laugh, I knew she would, but this wasn’t the time for jokes.

  “You’re leaving in three, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah. That’s the plan.” She exhaled.

  “So give me two days.”

  “No holds barred means you’ll have to tell me your deepest, darkest secrets.”

  “As long as you tell me yours.”

  She licked her lips and smiled. “Deal.”

  “Deal.”

  And then my lips were on hers again.

  Chapter Thirty

  Tessa

  We were lying on my mattress in my nearly empty room. Even with all of my childhood furniture gone, I was trying hard not to be weirded out, especially not after he’d just had his mouth, his hands, his body all over and inside mine. He propped himself on his elbow and faced me. I was still breathing heavily from the orgasm he’d just given me, but my eyes were open, looking at the popcorn ceiling.

  “Why do they texture ceilings?” I said. “It’s so pointless.”

  “Is that really what you want to talk about right now?”

  No, it wasn’t, but I also didn’t want to look at him just yet.

  “No holds barred,” he reminded me and tapped my temple three times. Tap, tap, tap. “What’s going on up there?”

  “I just can’t believe you’d get married,” I whispered. I felt him stiffen beside me and knew he was probably wishing he hadn’t gotten off the ceiling topic, but I couldn’t leave it alone. The idea had haunted me since he’d told me about it. “What if you happen to meet the woman of your dreams, and you’re wasting time by being married to another one just for the sake of a contract?”

  He laid his head beside mine. His breath tickled my nipple when he spoke again. “Do you really think it’s likely that I’d meet someone like that?”

  “You never know.”

  “That wouldn’t happen.” He shook his head. “I know it wouldn’t.”

  “But how do you know?” I pushed back, needing space to think and desperately wanting to look into his eyes. The second I did, I regretted it. His sad and hollow expression hit me deep in my marrow, and not for the first time, I wasn’t sure I could be the one to fix this brokenhearted man.

  “People like me aren’t meant to fall in love. We aren’t meant for others to fall in love with us either. I’m too closed off, too guarded, too . . . I just . . . you know how people talk about the perfect match?” He shifted onto his elbow. I mimicked the movement. “I don’t want that to ever be true for me because my perfect match would be hollow and afraid, and I don’t want to ever have to see that version of myself.”

  I wasn’t sure what to do with his confession, so I said nothing. I’d always thought your perfect match was supposed to complement you in every way, but what did I know about perfect matches? The only thing I knew for certain was that the mere thought of him being like this with somebody else felt like a stab to my chest. His gaze broke away from mine and landed on my exposed breasts. I resisted the urge to pull the blanket back up.

  “I feel shy,” I whispered, closing my eyes away from his heated gaze.

  “Shy?” He chuckled, that deep sound that did crazy things to me. His nose flicked mine, and he said, “Open your eyes,” against my lips with this soft, gravelly voice that made my heart pitter-patter a little too hard for my comfort, so I took my time complying.

  “I think we need the lights off.”

  “I disagree.” He moved so that I could see all of him, but it also meant he could see all of me, which he had already done in New York. Why was this so embarrassing? I felt a flush creep up on my face. “I want to look at you.”

  “You don’t need to look at me to fuck me.”

  “But I want to.”

  “I hate you right now.” I groaned, fighting the urge to shut my eyes.

  He grinned, eyes dancing. “Liar.”

  “I’m not lying, and I seriously hate you right now.”

  “Hm. Come here, baby.” He leaned in and bit my bottom lip, sucked it into his mouth. He grabbed me with ease and positioned me so I was straddling him, his hard length between us as he took in every inch of me. “Show me how much.”

  My heart pounded as I braced myself on his chest and sank down on him. This time, I did close my eyes, savoring the feeling and trying to control the moan that threatened to come out as he stretched me, filled me so completely. I found my rhythm, slow at first. Gliding over him, I threw my head back every time his thrust met mine and his pubic bone tapped my clit. Then he grabbed my ass and spread me, his hips coming up harder, faster, making me feel wilder, out of control. I lifted my knees and picked up the pace, bracing myself on his strong, thick thighs as his hands slid up my body, as his palms cupped my breasts, as his fingers rolled my nipples.

  “Oh God,” I moaned.

  “Yes,” he hissed right before he flipped me without so much as losing his rhythm. I was panting for breath, my legs over his shoulder and he entered me again, slowly, so slowly I thought I’d vanish before he completely stretched me. I whimpered when he stopped moving, let out a harsh breath, and looked down at me, his hair swirling onto his forehead, bobbing with his blinks.

  “Okay?”

  I nodded, lips parted as I looked up at him, my heart pounding so hard I was sure it would end up inside his chest instead of mine. When he brought his face down and slanted his mouth on mine in a slow, tender kiss, my heart stopped beating all together. He bit my lower lip as he thrust deeper into me. My breath hitched, my back arched with the torturous movement. He seemed to be pacing himself, or maybe just enjoying tormenting me by not giving me what I wanted. I wrapped my legs around his waist and lifted myself, pressing into him. His gaze found mine in a gasp, and for a moment, neither one of us moved. Then he started to fuck me, spreading my legs farther apart, gripping my inner thighs harder with each thrust. My back arched into his movements. I wasn’t sure how much more of it I could take. I wasn’t sure how much . . . his hand came down between us and found my clit, stroking it as he fucked me. His free hand moved to cup my breast, his fingers pinching and rolling my nipple. Sensation seared through my veins as we found our pace. I felt like a furna
ce from the inside, hot with each lick of the wildfire that seemed to consume me. He whispered my name, a vow, a pledge. I moaned out his with pleasure as I went over the edge and looked into his eyes as he bit his lip and spiraled down with me.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The following morning, I wasn’t surprised to find that he wasn’t there. My first thought was: he got scared.

  Hell, I was scared.

  What we’d shared was nothing short of magical in my book. Still, I would’ve liked for him to have stayed. I reminded myself that it was a workday. I was sure he’d gone home, showered, changed. I did the same, wondering if he still wanted me to go into the office. I figured I would. I could continue making calls and setting up appointments and phone calls for him today and tomorrow. It was two more days on the paycheck. I told myself it was only that. I’d agreed to two weeks, and I wouldn’t cut it short. I turned around, keys in one hand and phone in the other as I scrolled for an Uber when I heard a car pull up, the gravel of my driveway crunching beneath its tires. Goosebumps kissed their way up my arms as I locked the door. I didn’t have to turn around to know it was him. I pushed the side button on my phone, Uber ignored, and watched as he pulled to a stop in front of me, passenger window down.

  “You’re going to be late,” he called out.

  “You think my boss will be upset?” I opened the door and slid into the seat, snapping on my seatbelt before facing him. His gaze was dark and needy as he leaned in, put a hand behind my neck, and pulled me closer.

  “Furious,” he responded against my lips.

  My heart bounced in anticipation of his kiss, which I didn’t have to wait long for. His tongue swept into my mouth and play alongside mine in a deep, slow tango that made me think about hard, slow, fucking. I clenched my thighs in response, moaned against his mouth, caught a fistful of his hair as I pulled him even closer. We were both breathing heavily when we broke the kiss, him nibbling on my lower lip, me tugging his into my mouth and extracting a rumbled sound from him that made my pulse kick.

  “Your dad’s going to be mad at you,” I whispered when he placed his forehead against mine. I felt him smile against my lips. He kissed me one more time and settled back into his driving position.

  “I brought an overnight. I didn’t really want to leave you this morning, but I didn’t want to wake you up either.” He handed me a coffee and a bag from the coffee shop down the street. I peeked in and pulled out the bagel.

  “You stayed over?” I didn’t know why this surprised me. “I didn’t really peg you for the staying over type.”

  “I stayed over the other night.”

  “We didn’t have sex that night.”

  “Which makes staying over weirder if you think about it.”

  “I guess.”

  “And we shared a hotel room in New York.”

  “Exactly. Shared hotel rooms imply that we’re both staying over.” I looked out the window as I added, “Preferably having sex.”

  “Preferably, huh?” I could hear the smile in his voice, but I didn’t face him since I was trying to hide my own. “I came over last night because I wanted to sleep with you.”

  I turned my attention to him. “Obviously.”

  “Just sleep with you,” he clarified. “The sex . . . the sex was incredible, don’t get me wrong, but I hadn’t planned on that.”

  “You pounced me the minute I opened the door.”

  His smile was almost bashful. Almost. “I couldn’t help myself.”

  “Hm.”

  By the time we pulled up to the Hawthorne building, we were both grinning. Rowan went to the office to get ready for his morning meeting with his dad while I went over to Sam’s cubicle. He took in my appearance with a smile when he saw me approach.

  “How was the trip?”

  “It was . . . good.”

  “You seem happier today.”

  “Do I?” I leaned against the partition wall, still grinning. “Why don’t you have an office?”

  “Like Mighty Rowan with the office and the girl?”

  I rolled my eyes. “You never wanted the girl.”

  He paused for a moment too long for comfort, his eyes scanning my face that way he did when he wanted to say something but was afraid of the consequences. I held my breath. No, no, no damn it. We went over this. We’d kissed and decided there was nothing there. But then, does a simple kiss determine your feelings for a person you’ve known your entire life?

  “Sam,” I started. He shook his head, tearing his gaze from mine.

  “Ignore me. I’m being a brat.” He sat on the edge of his desk, and I willed my feet to walk over to him, to be there for him.

  “What’s going on?”

  He sighed heavily. “I haven’t been feeling well lately, and it’s making me act like a pansy.”

  “You aren’t a pansy.” I smiled, opened my mouth to make a joke, but then stopped myself and took a seat next to him on his desk. “What do you feel? Have you been to the doctor?”

  “Just tired. All the time. My vision is fucked up. My head hurts. I think I need glasses.”

  “Glasses, Sam?” I laughed. “Dude. Go get glasses! You stare at a computer all day.”

  “I’m going this week.” He shot me a weak smile. “Have you decided? Paris or New York?”

  “I’ll go to New York on Monday and tour the place and then do the same for Paris on Wednesday before I decide.”

  “You realize how rare that is, right?”

  I nodded and swallowed the emotion threatening to bubble up. I knew it was rare. My friend Hannah was still trying to get an apprenticeship somewhere, and she was talented as hell. I knew I was talented, and I’d been sending designs to both companies since I was in high school, so it wasn’t completely outlandish that I’d applied to both when it came time, thinking I’d maybe, possibly, only get one. I was as shocked as anyone when I received phone calls from both offering me the position of my dreams.

  I pushed off the desk and gave Sam a side hug. He put his arm around me and rested his head on top of mine.

  “You’ll tell me when you decide, right? You won’t disappear again.”

  “I won’t disappear again.”

  “Good.”

  Just then, we heard the elevator open and straightened as Camryn appeared. My heart pounded hard in my chest. She was dressed in one of those form-fitting shift dresses that not many people could pull off. It hung perfectly on her super slim body, those gazelle legs of hers carrying her weightlessly across the room. She glanced over to where we were and waved with a warm smile and finally approached. With Camryn, I never knew what version I was getting—the candied bubblegum girl or the vicious viper that lay beneath. I braced myself for both. She shot her megawatt smile at Samson first.

  “I missed you at family dinner last night.”

  Family dinner? Did the Hawthornes really hold up pretenses even when there were no longer any to hold up? It wouldn’t surprise me if they did.

  “Didn’t feel like I needed to be there,” he said. “Not much of a family.”

  Her brows pulled in slightly. “That isn’t fair, Sam. Just because your parents aren’t happy with each other doesn’t mean they don’t love their children.”

  “My father has multiple children,” he said. “He has us and one with another woman.”

  I felt the breath go out of me, and I could tell Camryn was just as shocked as I was. We shared a look, probably one of the only looks of solidarity we’d ever shared.

  “Rowan hasn’t mentioned . . .”

  “Yeah, why would he?” Sam said. “I’m just saying, it isn’t insane that neither one of us show up for their stupid, pretentious family dinner.” He held his temple as he said the words. I reached into my bag and fished out some ibuprofen. I rattled the little container, which he took from me.

  “What are you doing here anyway?” he asked Camryn after he finished swallowing his pills.

  “I have a meeting with your dad and Rowan.”r />
  “A meeting.” Sam’s words hung between the three of us like thick fog.

  “Yep.” She smiled suddenly and looked at me, tilting her head slightly. “I heard you’re still drawing dresses.”

  “Here and there.” I pushed the words out quickly, hoping that would be the last of her questions. She stared at me for a long time, her clear blue eyes glittering. Her go-to look when she wanted someone to cower before her. I held my ground. Truth was, I hadn’t sketched much lately. For some odd reason, inspiration only hit me when I felt alone. Who would have ever guessed that? Inspiration for wedding dresses hitting someone when they were alone and single felt like the worst kind of irony.

  “I’d love to see them,” she said finally. “The wedding dresses, I mean. I may be in the market for one.”

  It wasn’t her words but the slow smile that bloomed on her face that did me in. Rowan’s words rushed into my memory. His parents wanted him to get married for the sake of the company. Someone had to be the sacrificial lamb. I tried hard to cling on to the last shred of self-control I had left. She was baiting me. I shouldn’t take the bait.

  Don’t bite. Don’t bite. Don’t bite.

  I summed a smile.

  “Someone like you would never walk down the aisle wearing any less than Vera Wang,” I said before turning to Sam. “I promised Rowan I’d get some work done before I left. Hope you feel better.” I looked at Camryn as I sidestepped her. “Good luck with the dress.”

  Heart pounding, emotions rattling, I walked away.

  “We’re going in the same direction,” she said behind me. I heard her heels click on the tile as she caught up to me. “Have you managed to sell the house? I saw a sign up yesterday.”

  “Not yet. Hopefully soon.” We rounded the corner and neared Rowan’s office. I pushed the door open. He was standing, hunched over some papers, and didn’t look up right away.

  “Hey, have you seen my—” His brows pinched. “What are you doing here?”

 

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