Grandma comes up behind him and pats him on the back. “Why are you ditching your fiancé to go to Coney Island?”
“Because we had a kerfuffle,” I say, raising my chin. “And honestly, I didn’t want to look at him anymore. I needed space.”
“That’s not how you solve kerfuffles and you know it,” my grandma says. “We face them head-on and talk about them.”
“Yeah, well, I wanted my moment, and if you’ll excuse me, I want another one.” I slip out of my shoes, leave them in the entryway, and take off toward my room. There’s no question he won’t follow me. What I don’t want is to have a conversation with him in front of my grandma, especially when I know she was moving a little slower this morning. I don’t want to worry her.
I leave my bedroom door open and start unzipping my dress, knowing he’ll be here any second.
And just as the dress slips off my body and to the floor, Rath pushes through the door and shuts it. His eyes immediately eat me up as he closes the distance between us.
His hands are purposeful on my hips before I can blink, and his lips are smashing against mine before I take my next breath.
Caught off guard, I linger for a few seconds, letting him take my mouth how he wants but once realization hits me that I’m supposed to be mad at this man, I push away.
Turning toward my dresser, I fish out a pair of silk shorts and a matching nighty top. Right in front of him, I strip. Once naked, I quickly glance at him and see how much darker and more sinister his eyes are.
I turn toward him, giving him a full view and slip the shorts on first, then the camisole. His eyes never fall from my body, even when I walk over to him, reach into his pants pocket, and pull out his phone. I take his finger, unlock it, and then pull up Grubhub and order myself some pizza and garlic knots. Time to carbo-load and eat my feelings.
Once that’s done, I return the phone back to his pocket and then slip under my cool covers. Our eyes don’t stray very far, but we’re completely silent. Keeping his gaze trained on me, he slowly unbuttons his shirt and slips it off his broad shoulders. His pants are next as he unbuckles them and drops them to the floor, followed by his socks.
I watch as his chiseled body makes its way to my bed where he scoots me to the side and slips under the covers as well. He props himself up against the headboard and then tries to pull me into him, but I don’t allow it.
“Charlee,” he breathes, “you can be mad at me, but please just let me fucking hold you, okay? I was scared shitless that something happened to you. Just let me hold you.”
Sincerity laces through his voice as he looks completely deflated and exhausted at the same time, and even though I’m frustrated with him, I can understand that he might have been worried, so I give in and sit next to him. Of course, he doesn’t think that’s good enough and gently pulls me into his chest where he holds me tight.
“Christ, we were scared. What the fuck were you thinking going to Coney Island without a phone?”
“Listen, Rath. I don’t need the lecture.”
“You were gone for over three hours, Charlee. Without a phone.”
“So?” I push off his chest and grow defensive again. “Believe it or not, before you met me, I was able to handle myself in this city without you swooping in, being my knight in shining armor. I didn’t need you coming in to fix my life, offering me a job, an apartment, and a way to help my grandma.”
He reels back, as if I slapped him. “I’m not trying to save you.”
“But isn’t that what you’re doing? Treating me like a charity case?”
“You’re fucking kidding me, right?” he asks, squaring off with me now. “Is that what you really think all of this has been?”
“Maybe not at the start, but that’s what it seems to have become. As if you’re tossing money at a stripper.” I do the hand motion of shooting off bills in front of me. “You’re handing out accommodations, drivers, fake proposals, orgasms, and all for what, Rath?”
“For you,” he says, his voice turning dark.
“But why? I know you think I’m attractive, and oh how great, you want to date me, but what does that really mean if you don’t want to open up, if you don’t want to hand me a piece of yourself? I’m not a shallow person, but you’re making me feel shallow.”
“Wow,” he says, leaning back and pushing his hand through his hair. “Just . . . wow.” He stands from the bed and starts getting dressed. He punches his arms through his shirt and buttons it up while addressing me. “If you think this is a shallow relationship, then clearly you haven’t been paying attention.”
“I’ve been paying attention, Rath. I’ve been paying attention to how you avoid any deep conversation I try to have with you.”
“We have deep conversations. What the fuck are you talking about?”
“What about your previous relationships? Why don’t you talk about those?”
He finishes his last button and says, “Maybe because I don’t want to make you feel weird by talking about the women I used to fuck.”
“See? Right there.” I point at him. “You said the women I used to fuck, rather than the women I used to date. Are you really that emotionally unavailable that you’ve never been in a real relationship before?”
He shakes his head and takes off leaving my door open so I call out, “See? Avoidance.”
His feet stomp back to my room and he grips both sides of the door. “Maybe I don’t want to talk about that shit because it hurts too goddamn much to think about it. I’m not like you, Charlee. I don’t want to rehash being left at the altar. I don’t want to talk about the person who hurt me. I want to forget and move on, and that’s what I’ve done.” He looks me square in the eyes and says, “I’m moving on.”
And before I can reply, he takes off again, but this time I hear the door slam a few moments later.
Anger and hurt swell inside of me, turning me into a tailspin of emotion. I drop down to my pillow, shut my eyes, and cry. This is exactly why I never should have gotten involved with the man. I should have known from the very beginning that this wasn’t going to work out. I guessed and managed to get right so many things about Rath Westin. What he’d like to eat, how to organize his office, how to bring elements into his life that made things easier. And not once did he acknowledge those things with personal anecdotes of why he liked them. Not once did he tell me what he thought about me staying with him. There’s been gaping holes in so many aspects of our relationship that I’ve possibly overlooked due to physical infatuation. Foolishly, I thought one thing led to the other. That maybe I’d be the girl that actually makes an impact on the man. I thought maybe, just maybe, he’d let me in. Would give me a chance. And despite the perfect opportunity to talk, open up, he walked away.
Grandma was right—we face kerfuffles head-on. But fun fact: Rath Westin does not. Rath Westin moves on.
If only I knew what he was moving on from.
Chapter Twenty-Five
RATH
I’m in the office early in the morning. From Charlee’s access key swipes every morning, I know she gets here at seven thirty to beat me and get everything set up for the day, so I made sure to get here at seven.