Wherever You Will Go(51)

Saxon’s small touch is more comforting than anything I’ve felt in a long time. It’s a small sign we’re in this together. We both chose to do this and everything will be all right. It’s a lot to read into one small hand gesture, but what kind of woman would I be if I didn’t make a mountain out of it?

Too scared to look in his direction, I continue staring at the ceiling, listening to his constant breathing. It’s definitely taken on a deeper and steadier rhythm. I’m sure he’s asleep and I’m desperate for the toilet so I try and tug my fingers from his. His grip tightens on mine and I soon realise I’m not moving anytime soon without waking him.

Squeezing my legs together, I try and distract my thoughts to something else, like what the hell happened during the past two hours. Fuck. I slept with Saxon. Twice.

The first time was just how I would expect Saxon to be: hard, fast, no feelings, just sex. A perfect combination for a serial one-night stand guy. The second time was something else completely. I wish I knew what that something else was. I feel like it’s staring me straight in the face, and I’m missing something.

Saxon and I have known each other a long time, whether we were close or not. We both lost someone special and understood what the other person was going through. Working so closely day after day, Saxon constantly being there to save me, can be confusing. Lines can get crossed and sometimes, shit just happens.

That’s what this was, just a once-off mistake. Two people drowning in their grief, looking for comfort in each other. Adults having consensual sex with no strings attached. This isn’t a new concept for him, so I just need to get on board.

I don’t know what was running through his head afterwards for him to give me the cold shoulder like he did. The way he avoided me, didn’t acknowledge me, throwing the quilt on the bed and not saying a word. It was like he couldn’t stand the sight of me. If it wasn’t for the hand holding gesture I would be sure he was disgusted with me. I wouldn’t blame him. I’m disgusted with me. Maybe that’s how he feels about himself too?

Mulling this over for much longer than is necessary, I listen for Saxon’s breathing and notice it’s a bit slower and his grip on my hand has slightly loosened. I’m not interested in early morning awkwardness so I decide it’s best to get going. Saxon doesn’t do sleepovers, this I am sure of. He probably didn’t want to kick me out, but he obviously didn’t want any after-sex cuddling either.

It’s just easier if I go. I can sleep in my own bed and don’t have to see him until work on Monday, which gives me Saturday and Sunday to figure out how I’m going to handle this. The more I think about all the details, the more the idea of me leaving sounds better and better. I slowly pull my hand from his, lying perfectly still until he makes no movement, and I’m free to go.

Sliding off the bed I begin searching for my clothes. Quickly dressing, I run my fingers through my hair and I make my way out of the apartment. I head straight to the office bathroom to finally get some relief and clean up. After I’ve finished I head to my office, shut down my computer and grab my purse and lunch bag from the desk draw.

I’m not sure what time security comes and locks up, but I decide to take the stairs to not wake Saxon with the elevator.

After only a few flights I realise this was probably the dumbest idea I’ve ever had. This is a thirty-storey building, and we are on the twenty-fourth floor. Stopping, I quickly slip off my heels and continue to the parking garage barefoot.

After what feels like forever I’m sitting in the comfort of my Range Rover, driving along the highway heading home. I need a distraction so I hit the CD dial and turn it up. Katy Perry’s “Dark Horse” comes on, and I release a sigh. God, I love this song. It’s just what I need. I turn the volume up even louder and rock it out on repeat the whole way home.

Once I’m home I head straight to my bathroom for a hot shower, stripping my clothes off along the way, leaving a trail behind me. Kind of like the trail of destruction I left at the office. How significant.

Turning on the hot water, I only add a little cold to take the edge off. All the adrenalin and energy I had built since leaving the office drains away as the hot water runs down my body.

I lean my head back to let the warm water run down my face. My body is aching, and my mind is tired. I slide down along the wall and rest on the floor. Pulling my legs up to my chest, I wrap my arms around them as I rest my head on my arms, enjoying the warmth of the stream flowing over me.

I try not to think about anything and just enjoy the feeling of peace for the moment I can steal it. I don’t think my mind would let me think about it anymore tonight, even if I wanted to. After going over and over everything, I’ve never felt so mentally tired.