Never Let Go: Top Shelf Romance Collection 6

by Steiner, Kandi

  His touch felt almost loving, and that wasn’t what I wanted at all—but maybe I did? Maybe this wasn’t only what I wanted from him?

  He held still, inside me, both of us gasping. “What is this?” he asked quietly.

  I sniffled, unable to quiet myself.

  “Charlie.” More insistent.

  A thrust, hard.

  “Answer me,” he grated, sliding out and back in once more. “What am I doing here?”

  I couldn’t talk. The tears were choking me, but the pleasure had me paralyzed. Such a fucking contrast, because that’s what I was—a big fucking mix of insanity.

  “Charlie.” Another firm plunge, and I cried out because it felt so fucking good.

  I lifted my head, sitting up as much as I could.

  He caught me, like I knew he would. His hand came to my breast, anchoring me there, and he dipped his head to my shoulder, placing a delicate kiss.

  “Answer me,” he whispered.

  I could hear his yearning. My heart spiked up in response.

  I couldn’t hold it in. “I’m leaving on Friday.”

  His hand flexed over my ass. “Yeah?” A groan left him, and he moved inside of me again. “I knew that. What else is going on?”

  “Are you seriously questioning me while we’re fucking?” I looked up over my shoulder.

  His eyes twinkled, and he smirked, moving inside of me once again. This time, he pressed all the way in, rotating his hips, and I moaned, my eyes fluttering closed from the torment.

  “Answer me and I’ll finish.” He grinned. “Maybe.”

  A spew of curses left me, but fuck, it felt so good. “You fucker.”

  “You asked for this.” He slid back to my entrance, then shoved in, his entire body bending over mine so we were lined up from waist to face.

  I looked back and his eyes were right there. We stared deep. I could almost see into him, just as I felt him inside of me. His eyes softened, then grew fierce again.

  His lips nipped mine, and he groaned against my mouth, “Why do I feel like this is the last time I’ll hold you?”

  Fresh tears spilled.

  He felt them, tasted them, and pulled back. “Charlie?” His cock quivered inside of me.

  I gasped. “When I go on Friday, that’s it for me. I’m done.”

  He went still. Every inch of him turned to stone, and a wall slammed over his face.

  “The fuck?”

  He didn’t pull out of me, and I almost sagged from relief. I needed him to finish. I needed him to claim me once more.

  “Why?”

  I flinched at how cold he sounded. My head hung down. “Because I care too much. Because when you leave me, I won’t recover.” I willed myself to meet his eyes. “It took everything in me to leave Damian. I can’t—if you walked away from me, I’d never get back up again. You can destroy me.”

  I’d cut myself open for him, revealed everything in me.

  Taking a second, his forehead fell to my shoulder, and he cursed under his breath. But then he began moving in me again. His cock was almost stroking me. His hand slid around to rub my clit, pressing, holding, circling, teasing. As he brought me toward my climax, I felt his lips on my shoulder, then the back of my neck. I bent over for him again, my hands fisting on the counter.

  I knew what he was doing. “You too,” I yelled. “Don’t you goddamn make me come and you don’t.”

  I lifted my head, intent flashing in my eyes. “If you don’t, I’ll be on my knees in front of you.”

  He paused, holding my gaze, and I tried not to flinch at the wall I saw in him. But then he shuddered. He took my hips and brought both of us to climax.

  We erupted together.

  I fell against the counter, too weak to move, as we both trembled from the aftermath.

  “If you’re going to go, why wait till Friday?”

  I winced. His voice was devoid of anything humane.

  “I’ll take you to the airport today.”

  Then he pulled out, and walked out, leaving me lying there. Alone.

  Chapter 45

  I don’t know what I did after Reese walked away from me.

  I don’t know how I got to the airport, or even packed the few items I had with me.

  I don’t remember the flight back to Minneapolis.

  For the next two weeks, I wouldn’t remember hardly anything.

  I texted Grant when I landed.

  Me: I’m at the airport. Can you pick me up?

  Grant: What?! I’m at camp.

  Me: Okay.

  Grant: I’m coming. Are you okay?

  Me: No.

  Grant: Don’t go home. I have no clue what’s going on, but my gut is telling me not to let you be alone. I’m sending Janet.

  I didn’t argue. That said everything. I do remember that.

  Me: Okay.

  I sat on a bench near the curb, my suitcase beside me, staring at nothing.

  A car rolled to a stop before me. The window went down and I heard, “Charlie?”

  I looked up.

  It was Janet.

  A little while later, we were at her house. I followed her inside, and she put her purse and keys on the counter by the door.

  She took off her coat, watching me. “Do you need anything? A drink maybe?”

  I almost laughed at that. “God, yes.”

  Her husband was in the living room, and he paused the television. ESPN was on, and I froze, a numb feeling spreading through me as I forced myself to look at the screen. But they weren’t talking about Reese. His name wasn’t in the captions. They weren’t playing highlights of his game.

  They had remembered there were other sports and teams out there.

  * * *

  “She hasn’t said much?”

  “No. What’s wrong with her? She’s freaking me out.”

  Grant had arrived and was talking to Janet in the entryway. They were using hushed tones, but they still carried to the kitchen and even the living room.

  Janet’s husband gave me a pitying smile. “She’s not the greatest on tact,” he said quietly.

  I shrugged. I’d known her longer than he had. It was understood.

  “I want to help, but I have no idea what to say to her. Did she break up with Damian again? Why am I always in the dark?” Janet hissed.

  * * *

  We were in the car. Grant and me.

  City lights passed by, looming over us on the interstate. He cleared his throat. I could feel his worry when he looked over. “So, you’re okay with what we’re doing, right? I mean, you seem out of it.”

  No. What were we doing?

  But I only nodded and pressed my hands into my lap. “Of course.”

  “Really?”

  * * *

  I found out later that Grant and I had packed half of my apartment the day he came.

  There were reasons everything was moving fast, but I didn’t understand it. I just went with it. Who was I to argue?

  I’d turned in my notice with the lease office and asked Lucas to grab the rest of my stuff. It was supposed to go into storage until I could come get it later.

  I saw the text conversation with Lucas. He hadn’t wanted to help me until I threatened him with a sex tape Newt had sent me early in our dating relationship. It was of Newt. There was nothing illegal about it, but the idea of getting a video sent by your ex’s grand-whatever was just all sorts of gross.

  Luc-ass said he’d have everything packed up and moved by the next day.

  I didn’t tell him, but I was going to release the tape anyway. I was just waiting for the right day.

  The internet needed to know about the likes of Newt.

  * * *

  “You’re okay staying here until you find a place?”

  Bless Sophia’s heart. She had no idea how to make things right for me.

  It was past the weekend now. Time was coming back to me. I was starting to adjust to this new life, but I was a zombie.

  Still numb.<
br />
  But I knew I was five days post-Reese.

  He would’ve had his away game, then gone to New York.

  “Did he win?” I asked Sophia.

  She swallowed. She knew who I meant.

  “They lost their Wednesday game, but won against New York.”

  Good.

  That was good.

  * * *

  “We have a retreat this weekend,” Owen was saying to Grant.

  We were at a staff meeting, going over budget and planning. Why was I there? They still didn’t quite trust me to be alone.

  A month had gone by.

  Nothing felt better.

  I’d left him because of that, right? Didn’t I?

  Things were supposed to feel better by now. Be better.

  Why did I feel so wrong?

  “I think I fucked up,” I said to no one in particular.

  * * *

  I was packing again, throwing things into my bag in a mad rush.

  I had an audience at the door.

  Hadley took a breath. “Oh boy.”

  Grant frowned. He rarely didn’t frown when he saw me now. “Are you sure this is a smart idea?”

  Owen flinched in pain, rotating his shoulder over and over again.

  Sophia leaned forward, her eyes bright and shining from unshed tears. “We can call Trent. He said he was doing some traveling this weekend. Maybe he could meet you? So you have a friend there, unless you want one of us to come along?”

  “No.” I was firm. I’d made up my mind.

  “Oh boy,” Hadley said again.

  “Charlie. I don’t know…” Sophia began.

  Grant cursed, stepping into the room. “This is not a smart idea. Remember what you said to me? You wouldn’t recover? Now you’re going to him. Charlie, I don’t think—”

  I whirled to them. “I don’t care!”

  I stopped, my chest heaving.

  Time and thought and me—all of it slammed back into place at once, and suddenly I was in my room at Grant and Sophia’s house. My friends were standing in the hallway, scared to come and talk me down, but also worried about letting me go.

  They were terrified—of me, but for me.

  And that was on me.

  I had done this. To myself. To them. Me. No one else.

  “I fucked up,” the words regurgitated from me, full of disdain for myself. “I’ve made a mess of everything. And I’m better. I’m okay, but I have to do this. You guys don’t have to worry about me. I promise. I will be okay. I just—I have to do this before I move on.”

  “But going and seeing him. I mean—”

  I cut Hadley off this time. “I have to let him go. I never did before. I need to do it this time or I’ll never be able to move on. I have to do this.”

  I zipped up my bag, pulled it onto my back, and faced them.

  No one moved aside.

  I let out a sigh. “I’m really okay. I promise.”

  I wasn’t, but I would be.

  That was a promise.

  Chapter 46

  I woke the next morning in a hotel.

  I felt damn good, and there was a sadness with it because I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt like this—like I knew what I wanted in life, I knew what I needed to do, and I was filled with hope. With Damian, I’d lost hope.

  That’s the saddest part of grieving someone—whether they’re still with you or not, whether it’s a relationship or not. You’re fighting to keep hope, but when the last of that string is cut, that’s where you get lost.

  That’s where I’d been for too many years, but not anymore.

  I knew. In all the madness and confusion and wackiness, clarity had come to me, and once I got it, it was a ray of sun breaking through the clouds. I clung to it, and the longer it stayed with me, the stronger I got.

  This. This was what I needed to do first. I got out of my car and went inside the Silver Shores Assisted Living facility.

  Damian’s mom met me at the door. Her hair was cut short, a dirty blonde similar to Damian’s when we’d first started dating. She had the same angular, long face, and the same blue eyes. She watched me cautiously, which stopped me in my tracks.

  Jesus.

  Damian had lost some of his looks as the dementia progressed. He’d lost the muscle definition, and the freshness of youth I hadn’t started to appreciate until later in life. His hair was greasy half the time, and uncombed the other.

  But seeing his mother now, a wave of memories flooded me.

  “Hi. I’m Damian, and I suck at hitting on women, but I still wanted to come over and try with you. So consider this my lame pick-up line.” He had smiled, holding his hand out in the middle of a busy bar, as if we were meeting in a boardroom.

  His eyes had twinkled.

  Sandy brown hair in a crew cut, a golden tan from the summer months, and a form that showed he lifted weights on the regular—I’d been taken aback. Not by him, not by the simple pick-up line, but because he’d laughed after he held his hand out.

  That laugh.

  I heard it again now. Like an intoxicating bell, light and breezy, and like sunshine after enduring four months of a gloomy winter.

  I breathed in the memory and blinked back tears, because I missed him.

  “I’m going to warn you.” He’d smiled down at me on our first date. “You’re going to fall in love with me.”

  “I am, huh?”

  “I’m scarily intoxicating. You’ll see.” He’d winked before coming around to open my door for me.

  A year into our relationship he’d told me, “I will never hurt you. I will love you forever. You and me, we’ll conquer the world.”

  “Charlie?”

  Brenda approached, her hands coming out of her pockets. She jerked forward, as if unsure then suddenly going for it. This wasn’t the Brenda I remembered. She’d been smooth and confident when Damian and I first started dating. There’d always been a sadness about her, and Damian had pulled away from her when his first symptoms started. When she finally learned the truth, she’d just seemed resigned, like she knew that phone call was going to come one day.

  Thinking on it now, she probably had.

  “Hi. Yeah. Wow.” I fitted my hand in hers, feeling her shaking, just like me.

  She laughed, finishing my thought. “Long time, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  Yeah. I sighed.

  We were in a nursing home. He was too young to be here.

  “Damian mentioned you the other day.”

  This was so fucking painful. My throat swelled. “Yeah?”

  He could still remember me?

  How many good days did he have?

  How bad were the bad days?

  How far had he slipped?

  Would I recognize him?

  Stop. Pause. Take a breath.

  The lobby had two different directions. A front desk sat at the hallway leading to the left, and a beeping came from behind the desk. But the right side was quiet. It led to a longer carpeted hallway.

  Brenda headed for the right side, and without me asking, she’d answered the main question. How was Damian?

  “We were able to get him in here—at first they were hesitant about taking him since, you know, he’s so young, but I got him in about six months ago. It took a while for everything to be approved, but so far, I think he’s enjoying it. He always did joke that he was an old soul.”

  “I should just move into a senior community,” he’d once told me.

  “Why?”

  “Because that’s just how I am. I never thought I’d have kids. I hate loud sounds. I’m not a partier. I don’t know. Give me my sports network and my dog, and I’m happy.”

  That’d been early on in our relationship, before I’d thought about kids. He mentioned one time he’d have kids if I wanted. I believed him, but he never yearned for a family of his own.

  “Do they allow pets here?” I asked his mom.

  Her smile lightened, and she walked
with an easier gait. “Oh yes. And that was a big thing we got this year too. He has a therapy dog, and I do think Mickey has helped. He gets Damian out of the apartment and walking around. He can still…you know.”

  I didn’t. “What?”

  She faltered, wiping at the corner of her eye before looking away briefly. “He can still go outside on his own. They…” She paused, her shoulders rising as she filled her lungs. “They have an alarm on him. I guess he wandered once, but since he’s had Mickey, he’s doing better. Mickey guides him back.”

  “I want to own a kennel and take care of eight dogs. More even.” He had laughed, as we were the couple who went to the dog park without a dog.

  His hand had found mine, and I’d heard the longing in his voice. “Someday, Charlie. I know we can’t afford a dog now, but one day. And I’m not joking. Dogs over people, man. Dogs don’t leave you.”

  I stopped walking as the memory blasted me inside, knives cutting me.

  He had known. Somehow, he had known.

  Brenda was still going, her voice lighter, and she pointed to a television room as we went past. “AJ comes to visit every weekend. Whenever the football games are on, those two are cackling like little girls together. One time they watched in here and a few of the other guys came to watch with them. It’s a sight to see. Damian, AJ, and four older gentlemen. They all get along like best friends. Damian enjoys giving the older guys dating advice, because—”

  She stopped, realized I wasn’t following, and turned back. “A few of the older ones are dating, you see…”

  AJ.

  “AJ comes to see him?” I choked out.

  Understanding dawned, and she nodded, biting her bottom lip. “Yeah. I reached out after you two broke up, and he’s been helping.”

  His childhood best friend. The two had a falling-out, and that’s when I came into the picture.

  “He talked about AJ, but I never met him.”

  “Yeah. He, uh…” She drew closer, nodding her head. “AJ talked to me a little about their argument. I think… I think Damian knew what was coming for him. AJ had just gotten married. Angie was pregnant, and I think it was hard for Damian to see that. Then he found you, and to be totally honest, I think he wanted to keep you all for himself, for as long as possible.”