“Amore. Get dressed.”
I nod and rush to the back for my shirt and jeans. After slipping them on, I pick up his blazer from the floor and hit the lights in my office. When I return to the front of the store, he’s already fixed his clothes.
“Thank you,” he says and takes the jacket from my grasp.
“You’re welcome.” I try to watch his face, see if I can spot anything in his eyes. But what I get is the same tense expression he had when he walked in here.
I snatch my purse from under the counter, retrieving my keys so I can lock the door behind us. Easton waits patiently as I do it, but the moment I finish, he grabs my hand and leads me toward his shop.
We bypass it and make our way to his car. He walks me to the passenger side and holds the door for me until I’m fully seated. As he rounds to the driver’s side, I glance down at my wrist, tracing the bruise with my thumb.
We ride the distance to my apartment in silence. I want to ask questions, find out if tonight gave him what he needed, if we’re any closer and building together. I don’t ask any of that, though. I know Easton, and it doesn’t matter that he shared a little piece of his world with me. If he doesn’t want to answer me, he won’t.
“Here we are, amore.” He rolls to a stop in front of my building.
“Are you okay?” I pry.
He sucks in a breath and stares out the front window. “Goodnight, Arloe. Make sure you drink lots of water and rest. You may need to take the day off tomorrow.”
“I’m already off.”
“Good. And eat, even if it’s something light. You’ll be sore in the morning, so an Epsom salt bath can help alleviate some of that.”
“All right.” I open the door, but he stops me.
He pulls me to him, cups my cheeks, and kisses me long and slow. When he separates us, I scan his features, only to find nothing there, not even the dark aggression he had while fucking me.
“I’ll be by tomorrow to take you back to your car. Get some rest.”
“I will,” I agree and exit the car, not stopping until I’m in the lobby.
Turning just in time, I see him speed away, making a quick U-turn to head back the way we came. Tonight was a win for us. He let me in, and now I’m stuck.
Chapter Fifteen
Arloe
As the sun from a new day hits my face, I squirm in my bed. I can’t even begin to put into words how last night made me feel.
Easton is a monster of his own making, and I feel I’m finally breaking down his walls. Slowly, he’s letting me in. He’s letting me see the real him, and I’d be lying if I said that doesn’t thrill me. From the first moment I saw him I knew he was different. He exudes a powerful aura that demands your attention and lures you in but still keeps you at a distance.
He’s a complete anomaly. Hard, cold, and demanding but still sweet, gentle, and calming all at the same time.
I let out a breath and throw the thin sheet from my body and stand from my bed. I’ve never been more thankful for a day off than I am now. Between my legs is sore, my shoulders ache, and my body feels stiff. Easton worked me in ways I’ve never dreamed of, and I’m feeling it today.
Deciding I need some coffee before my shower, I stroll out of my room and into my kitchen. I fill my coffee pot with water then scoop in the grounds before hitting brew. When I lean onto the counter and watch every drop fall into the pot, I notice I’m smiling. The corners of my lips screwed up so tightly it almost hurts, but it’s something I feel will now be a permanent fixture on my face as long as Easton is around.
I wasn’t lying when I told him I was scared of him because I am. It would be stupid of me to answer his question any other way after seeing some of the things he’s done. But with this new side of him coming to light, it isn’t him I fear anymore.
I only fear who I am—or who I would become—without him.
A loud knock on my door pulls me out of my thoughts. Immediately, my smile falls because I’m not expecting company, but it’s quickly replaced with the thought of Easton. This is always how he presents himself. No call, no text, no warning. He just comes and takes what he wants, and fuck, I want him to want me right now, even though my mind tries to tell me my body needs a break to recover.
I skip to the door and look through my peephole to see if my suspicion is right, and just as quickly as my hopes got brought up, they come crashing down. The man standing in the hall isn’t someone I want to speak to let alone see.
I rub my temples and shake my head as I unlock my door and open it. “What do you want?” I snap, not bothering to offer him a hello.
“We need to talk, honey.”
I roll my eyes with a scoff and step to the side, letting him enter. “Don’t honey me, Barron.”
I can see the pain wash all over his face the moment I say his name, but I don’t care. He lost the title of Dad when he was too busy fucking someone else instead of taking care of my mom as she was on her deathbed.
As I close the door, he steps further inside and takes a seat at one of the barstools at my counter. “I understand you’re still upset with me, but this is serious, Arloe.”
I walk to the other side of the counter and cross my arms over my chest as I stare at him. “What happened to you?”
His cheek is split and scabbed over, one eye is slightly puffy and purple, and all around, he just looks a mess. Not the normal poised, clean politician I know.
“That’s what I need to talk to you about.” He looks around my small apartment. “Are we alone?”
“Just get to the point. I have things to do, and none of them include you.” I give him my back and grab a mug from my cabinet so I can at least try to enjoy my coffee as he talks.
“Easton Ciccone, Arloe. Who is he?”
My hand stills, letting the coffee pot hover over the empty cup in my hand. “What?” I place the pot back in its cradle and set my cup on the counter before turning back to him.
“Is he your boyfriend?”
I squint trying to put together where he is going with this. “How do you even know that name?”
“Just tell me.” His voice raises as his fists bang the countertop.
This is so like him, trying to control every aspect of my life. And I’ve spent years trying to break free. All the fights in college happened because of moments like this. Periods of time when he’d waltz in trying to play the game of father and daughter.
As a kid, I didn’t know how to manage my emotions, so I fought anyone who pissed me off. Which resulted in him having to bail me out of trouble. Those were the only times I wanted to see his face, but eventually I grew up, and he lost the right to tell me what to do years ago.
I shake my head. “You will not come into my house and ask questions you have no business asking, and you certainly won’t yell at me. I am not your fucking kid anymore.”
He raises his hands in defense. “I’m sorry. I just—” He rubs the back of his neck and looks down for a moment before bringing his eyes back to mine. “We just need to get out of here. It isn’t safe, Arloe.”
“We? There is no we. You made that clear the day you chose your mistress and career over me and mom.”