I leaned against the elevator wall as he locked his arms on each side of me and continued, “You want more? I was going to ask her to marry me tonight at her sister’s wedding. I was supposed to be engaged right at this very moment, but instead, I’m in an elevator fighting the urge to back you up against this wall and fuck you so hard that I’ll have to carry you back to your room.”
My heart was beating out of control, and it was unclear which part of what he’d just said shocked me more.
He dropped his arms and lowered his voice. “Everything I thought I knew has been turned upside down in the past forty-eight hours. I’m questioning everything, and I don’t fucking know what to do. That’s. The. Truth.”
He released the stop button, and the elevator continued rising up to our floor—the 22nd floor.
He was going to ask her to marry him.
It was still sinking in. What a rude awakening as to exactly how far out of my league I’d been all of this time.
The elevator doors slid open, and as we walked down the hall, I simply said, “I don’t want to talk anymore. I need to be alone.”
He didn’t protest as I retreated to my room without saying anything further. It saddened me that our night had been cut short, but it finally became crystal clear that any more time spent with him would be dangerous. He was leaving on a plane tomorrow, and there simply wasn’t enough time to resolve all of these feelings.
Since I hadn’t bought any pajamas, I wrapped myself in a sheet and lay down. Devastated from the proposal bombshell he’d dropped and still painfully aroused by what he’d said to me after, I knew that sleep was not in my future tonight.
A half-hour passed. It felt like déjà vu as the red digital numbers of the alarm clock taunted me.
My text alert sounded at 2 A.M.
If I knock on your door tonight, don’t let me in.
CHAPTER 17
He was trying to do the right thing, and I respected the hell out of him for it. As powerful as temptation could be, I meant it when I told him I would never want him to cheat on her. At the same time, if I hadn’t gone to my room, I’m not sure that we could have avoided something happening. Tonight proved that whatever connection existed in the past between us was very much still alive and powerful. That was why it was best that we spent the rest of the night apart.
I was tossing and turning, still conflicted about leaving him alone. Even though what happened in the elevator had tainted the rest of the night, I needed to remind myself how this day started; he was still mourning his father. He really shouldn’t have been by himself tonight. Not to mention, we were wasting precious time because once he returned to California, I’d probably never see or hear from him again.
He was going to marry her.
Rustling in my sheets, I couldn’t take the insomnia anymore. The fact that the room was freezing didn’t help. I got up to shut off the air conditioner and grabbed my phone before returning to the bed.
Are you awake?
Elec: I was just about to order this amazing juicer. If I order right now, they’ll even throw in a bonus mini chopper all for just 19.99.
Greta: Can we talk? On the phone?
Not even three seconds went by before my phone rang.
“Hi.”
He whispered, “Hi.”
“I’m sorry,” we both said in unison.
“Jinx,” he said.
“You go first,” I said.
“I’m sorry for what I said to you in the elevator. I lost control.”
“You were being honest.”
“That doesn’t make it right. I’m sorry for the way it came out. You bring out the worst in me.”
“I’m touched.”
“Fuck. That came out wrong.”
I laughed. “I think I know what you’re trying to say.”
“Thank God you could always read between the lines with me.”
“How about we not rehash anything that was said in that elevator. I just want to talk.”
I could hear him moving around in the bed. He was probably gearing up for whatever conversation we were about to have.
He let out a deep breath into the phone. “Okay. What do you want to talk about?”
“I have some questions. I don’t know if this is my last opportunity to ask them.”
“Alright.”
“Did you stop writing?”
“No. I didn’t.”
“How come you didn’t tell Chelsea that you write?”
“Because from the time that I met her, I’ve only been working on one project, and it’s not something I really feel like I can share with her.”
“What is it?”
“It’s autobiographical.”
“You’ve been writing your life story?”