“We should be safe here for the time being,” I mutter to the plush, beige carpet under my feet. “I have a team downstairs, and another on a 24-hour patrol of the area.”
Silence.
“I could run you a bath?” I’m running on empty, saying anything that pops into my head. “I saw they have candles in there. Might be nice.”
If something doesn’t give soon, I’m calling it a night. Maybe that’s what she needs, some space, and we’ll talk in the morning when she’s had time to process.
“Candles?”
Oh, thank God, she’s finally said something. I turn to face her as she pulls up to sit.
“Candles?” she says again. I know that look on her face. I’ve seen it before. My heart sinks. “Are you fucking kidding me, Peter?”
I say nothing.
“There’s a crazy person out there who’s hellbent on terrorizing me, possibly to death if he can have his way, and you’re talking about candles?”
“I don’t know what you want from me, Emily,” I say, and push up from the bed.
My temper’s slipping a little. Understandably so, after the day I’ve had. But she doesn’t know anything about that, about the dead-end case, about my father, any of it.
I take a breath. “I just meant it would really help if you didn’t freeze me out like this.”
“Sorry if my trauma is a little too inconvenient for you,” she says, and pulls her knees up, hugging them to her chest.
“Don’t do that. Sulking isn’t going to help anything. I’m trying to have an open conversation with you.”
“And I’m trying to figure out how the hell we got here, Peter. How we ended up in this hotel room because he found me at your apartment.”
Shit.
“If you had a team watching his every move, how did that happen, Peter? How did a man whose description they have, driving a car they’ve been on the lookout for, get into the secure apartment block of a cop he’s never met, to deliver something to a woman he’s not supposed to even know is there? How did they miss that?”
Emily looks absolutely lost and afraid, and she’s turning to me for answers.
I sigh heavily and run my fingers through my hair. I don’t think I can avoid the truth much longer. And after what happened today, maybe it’s best that she knows everything. Better to have her guard up than make a silly mistake because she doesn’t have all the facts.
“It’s because they weren’t watching his every move,” I say, and move to lean against the closet behind me.
Her face clouds with confusion as my words percolate in the space between us.
“I don’t understand,” she says, dropping her legs over the side of the bed.
“I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you to panic about something that could end up being nothing. It—”
“What didn’t you tell me?” Her voice is low, filled with a warning that I know I’d be better off paying attention to.
I shake my head slowly. “We never had him, Emily. We were never even close to having him.”
“What do you mean, you were never close?”
“He dropped off the map the day after he talked to you from his car. The address was a dead-end, he hasn’t been showing up for classes, he’s just…gone.”
She bites her lips, glowering at me. There’s so much racing behind those eyes of hers, but what strikes me most is the hurt I see there. Plain as day. A part of me wishes that she would lash out at me, get angry, because the silence is way worse.
“I was trying,” I say. “I even went to my dad today, who I haven’t seen in I don’t know how long and who I didn’t necessarily want to see again, ever.”
“Gee, thanks for that mighty big sacrifice, Peter. I feel so much better about being lied to now.”
“That’s not what I meant. I didn’t mean to—”
“You didn’t mean to what?” Without warning, Emily closes the gap between us until she’s right up in my face. “Make it sound like you’re the saint in all of this? Try to play it off like I should be thanking you?”
I open my mouth to respond, but she jumps in before I can say anything. “Because there’s nothing saintly or even medium good about lying and going behind my back, Peter. Especially not when there are things like, oh, only my whole goddamn life in the balance.”
“Emily—” I try to take a hold of her hands, but she immediately pulls away from me.
“Don’t Emily me,” she says, seething.
“I was trying to protect you. Don’t you get that? I thought I was doing the right thing. I was doing it, all of it, for you.”
She scoffs. “I suppose I can’t blame you.” Her voice is strained and low. “After all, it’s not like you had the best role model when it came to how to treat a woman.”
I can’t believe she’s gone there. Of all the hurtful things to say to me—
“My mom was right about you all along,” she says, with an empty laugh that hits me square in the chest. “The apple really doesn’t—”
“Don’t.” My jaw is clenched, my fists balled at my sides.
If there’s one thing on this planet I can’t stand, it’s being compared to my father. Not when I’ve worked so hard to be the total opposite of him. And now, as I’ve just learned, the thing I can’t stand even more is that Emily thinks I’m like him.
“Don’t what, Peter? Don’t say things that are true, because you’re all about the lies we tell?”
“I’m nothing like my father, and you know that. So don’t do that. You want to argue with me, fine. Let’s have at it. But don’t do that.”
She drops her eyes, and even though she doesn’t say anything, I know I’ve gotten through to her. Arguments are fine to have, but when they spiral into hurt and destruction, that’s when your real problems begin. I’ve seen it happen enough times in my father’s relationships to know that for a fact.
“I was doing it for you,” I say then. “How can you not see that? I knew that if I filled you in on just how badly the investigation was going, that you’d—”
“Well, I’m not some precious little thing that’s made of glass, Peter. I won’t break at the slightest obstacle. And you sure as hell don’t get to choose what I can and can’t handle,” she says, her chest heaving from the way her breath is coming, ragged and fast.
And then it hits me like a pile of bricks. She’s right.
Even though my intentions were good, I had no right to keep details about the case from her. By negating her own control over her life, I basically acted exactly like my father.
“I’m sorry, Emily,” I say, with all the sincerity I can muster. I hold out my hands to her. “I didn’t see it at the time, but I get it now. Keeping you in the dark wasn’t the best way to protect you.”
Her shoulders slump, telling me the fight has gone out of her, too. I approach her slowly with my arms still outstretched.
“It won’t happen again,” I say, as I come up in front of her.
She doesn’t pull away.
Instead, Emily steps into me, allowing me to wrap my arms around her as she buries her head in my chest.
“I hate fighting with you,” she says, her voice trembling. “Of all people, not you.”
“Okay, new rule,” I say, kissing the top of her head. “No more lies, no matter what.”
Her head bobs against my chest as she nods. “Deal.”
I gently stroke her head, relishing the relief of having her in my arms like this. I didn’t think it was possible before, but it feels as though we’re even closer than we were a few hours ago. Our connection even deeper. I don’t understand it, but I’m not interested in analyzing the thing to death. It is what it is, and it’s fucking amazing.
Amazing and incredible, how this person has managed to upend my life in a matter of days, to the point that I’m standing in a hotel room, thinking about how I never want to let her go.
Chapter Thirteen
Emily
I wake up,
and the room is plunged in darkness. Peter’s steady breathing is the only sound at all. I roll over and look at him.
He’s lying with his back to me, his shoulder rising and falling with every breath. The rhythm of it is so hypnotic, after watching him for a moment my eyes begin to droop. But I don’t want to go back to sleep just yet.
I move closer to him, shaping my body around his form, with my one arm over his waist. I press against him, loving the way our bodies fit together, the way they seemingly become one. His breathing guiding mine, his heartbeat in my own chest.
“Peter?” I place the softest kiss on his spine, lingering there just a little longer than I should.
He inhales deeply, and then quietly moans the breath back out. But he says nothing. I know he’s just as exhausted as I am, and that I should probably let him sleep. But my own sleep is broken because of something terrible, and I know I won’t find peace until I fix it.
“Peter,” I say again; this time I rock my entire body to give him a nudge. “Peter, wake up.”
Finally, he begins to stir and shifts onto his back.
“What is it?” he says, his voice thick with sleep. “Are you okay?”
“I will be,” I say, moving into his outstretched arms. I snuggle up to the welcoming comfort of his bare skin against mine, trailing my fingertips lightly up and down his smooth chest. “I just wanted to say sorry. About before.”
His hands snake into my hair and begin gently massaging my head. “It’s okay, Emily. We’re both sorry, we both said things that could’ve been left alone.”
“No, no.” I lift myself onto my elbow so that I can look at him. “I don’t think you’re like your dad at all. I feel horrible for saying it. But mostly I hate that I hurt you.”
“Let’s call it even then,” Peter says, “and start over.”
“You forgive me, right?”
He cups my cheek with his hand, his thumb making small, feathery circles that send shivers down my spine. “Of course I do, Emily,” he says.
“Good, because I couldn’t bear it if you hated me.” I cross my one leg over his and press in closer. I place a soft kiss on his chest and rest my chin there, still looking at him.
Something moves behind his eyes, and then he says, “I could never hate you. You know, all these years, after losing contact with you, I thought it was you who hated me. I thought you didn’t want to have anything to do with me because of what my dad had done to your mom.”
I swallow. “Oh, Peter.”
The look of vulnerability on his face is excruciating. If he only knew!
My heart breaks a little at the thought of him out there in the world, believing that I resented him, when at the same time so many of my days were spent longing to have him back in my life. One way or another. I would’ve been happy to have him around as a friend.
Of course, having him as more than a friend was my first preference.
“The time we were apart,” I say, choosing my words carefully, “so much of that was spent hoping I’d see you again.”
His face brightens a little. “It was?”
“God, yes. I used to send text messages to that old number all the time. Even when I got no reply.” My cheeks grow warm. I can’t believe I’m telling him this. “It’s stupid, I know, but—”
“It’s not stupid, it’s amazing.” He shifts under me, the motion causing his thigh to rub between my legs. “You’re amazing,” he says, and bends down to place the sweetest of kisses to my lips.
And for the first time since all of this started, I feel the courage to be totally open and honest with him.
“Peter, I—I’m in love with you.”
The widest smile breaks onto his face and he laughs softly, the vibrations coursing through me.
“You don’t know how good it feels to hear that,” he says. “Because I love you, too, Emily.” He kisses me again. “I think I’ve loved you for a really long time, in fact. I just didn’t know it what it was.”
Those words send a rush of emotions bursting through me, not all of them good.
He must notice, because he looks concerned when he says, “What is it?”
“It’s just,” I sigh heavily. “I don’t know.”
“You can tell me.” He wraps his arm around me, his other hand still on my face.
I nod softly. I know I’m safe with him, that I can share anything with him and it’ll be okay. Besides, I feel like tonight has been a real milestone in our relationship. A development in our already intense connection. And so I tell him.
“I just feel like this whole thing was doomed before it started.”
A furrow creases his brow. “What do you mean?”
“I mean our parents, for starters.” A look of realization dawns on his face. “They hate each other, Peter.”
“I know.”
“How are we supposed to deal with that? What kind of life would we have together? I feel like that’s such a huge obstacle that we won’t be able to overcome it. I’m terrified that the poison from their relationship will spill over into ours.”
“I don’t think that’s possible.”
He’s trying to reassure me, I know, but it’s not working.
“And then there’s the small matter of Trevor.”
“Emily—”
“No.” I place my fingers on his lips to stop him from speaking. “I know what you’re going to say. That we’ll get through it, and that everything will be fine.”
I drop my hand from his mouth and wish I could kiss him. But I just grab a hold of his hand instead and grip it tightly.
“But, Peter, you know as well as I do that it’s not that simple. Can you stand to live your life in hiding? Because I know I can’t. And I feel like the second I let down my guard, something horrible is going to happen.”
“Look, I promised you I was going to get this guy, and that’s what I’m going to do.”
“I trust you. I know if anyone can get him, you can. But what happens in the meantime?”
He doesn’t say anything, but pulls me even closer to him.
“I just don’t want to end up regretting anything. I don’t want to do this with you if it’s going to be ruined in the end,” I say.
“Emily.” He finally finds his voice. “Do you honestly think that what we have is so fragile it can’t withstand a little hardship?”
I scoff at this. “I’d hardly classify our parents a little hardship, Peter. Same for the psycho-killer stalker. It’s foolish to think—”
“Hear me out,” he says, and I grow quiet again. “You and I, we’ve had this connection between us since we first met all those years ago. It was there even when we were both too young and stupid to know it for what it was. And even though we’ve been apart this whole time, that connection never went away. Right?”
I nod my agreement.
“Now,” he goes on, “now that we are here, in this moment, together,” he puts his finger under my chin to tilt my head up, “you can’t deny that our connection has only grown stronger instead of fading away.”
The unmasked look of pure love in his eyes makes hot tears spring up in mine. I feel so much for him, lying here in his arms, that I can hardly breathe.
“I believe we’re meant to be, Emily. I believe that with every fiber of my being.”
“I feel it, too. I just don’t know if—”
“It doesn’t matter,” he says. “None of those other things matter. Not your mom, my dad, Trevor, not any of it. Because we will find a way to get through it all in one piece, and we will be together. Happily. It’s our destiny.”
I laugh softly and wipe the tears from my cheeks. “Did you just pull the destiny card on me?”
“Maybe I did. But only because it’s true. I don’t care if it’s cheesy or whatever. I love you, Emily.”
If I thought my heart was full to bursting before, hearing him actually say those words sends me over the edge.
“I love you, too, Peter.”
And
before I realize what’s happening, Peter has flipped us over and positioned himself on top me.
“And I want to spend the rest of my life showing you just how much I love you,” he says.
He spreads me open using his knees and sinks between my legs. I sigh into the feel of his cock twitching against me there and buck my hips to rub up against him.
“You may not believe that we can make it, but I’ll spend every second of my life showing you we can.”
And then he kisses me, hard. His tongue plunges into my mouth with a kind of urgency I haven’t felt from him before. It’s like he wants to convince me so badly that our love will work, and this is the only way he knows how to do it.
And how can I resist it? How can I question it when I can feel his overwhelming love for me in every touch, every look?
A slow heat rises in my center.
I break from the kiss, breathless, and say, “I believe you, Peter. I want to spend my life loving you, too.”
He rocks his hips down into me, sliding his deliciously hard cock between my already dripping folds. The sensation starts as a tingling in my clit that curls and then snakes its way through my aching core, branching out and taking over my whole body.
It’s like we’re made of pure energy, him and me, and our bodies are on fire.
I wrap my legs around him and pull him closer. I want him so badly I could cry.
“Emily, wait,” Peter says, his breathing comes in ragged pants on my mouth.
But I don’t want to wait. I’ve never needed anyone as much as I need him right now. The tension between my legs is growing more painful with each passing second, and I know that Peter is my answer to its release.
I glide my hands lightly up the length of his body, starting at his tight ass. He shudders under my feather-light touch. I keep going, ghosting all the way up the ripped muscles in his back, over his strong shoulders, until finally I clasp them around his neck. I pull him down so that his lips are just grazing mine.
“I need you, Peter. I want you inside me. All of you.”
And when I take his mouth with mine, he thrusts into me with such force I cry out. The length of him, unsheathed and throbbing inside me, is like no other ecstacy I’ve ever felt. And still, I want more. It’s like we can’t get close enough.
Obsessed Page 10
