Page 24 of The One Who Got Away

And I surely didn’t want to wait until he’d taken me across the globe and spent thousands of dollars to convince me that he was worthy of being back in my life. Well, that was still up for debate. But I knew, without a shadow of doubt, that I wanted, needed him back in my bed.

I dabbed my mouth with my napkin and dropped it on the table. In the old days, he held the reins, held all the cards. I wanted to submit, and I would, but I would determine what happened next.

When I rose to my feet, he moved to follow, but I held out a hand to stop him.

“No, you stay here. I’ll send you a text with instructions.”

The words came out before I had a chance to squeak or temper my tone. To be alluring and sexy. I was just me.

His smile spread from his eyes to his lips, and I knew that ‘just me’ was more than enough.

I didn’t even wait until I got to the elevator before I typed out the text.

I’ll be waiting in the room

Come up and show me how much you’ve missed me

Then I’ll show you how much I’ve missed you.

Chapter Eight

All that excitement, the thrill of what was to come that filled me from head to toe as I strode to the elevator? It was down to zero when I slid the card into the reader at the door.

What the hell was I doing? This morning I was questioning seeing him at all. Whether I was ready to dive back in with the man who jumped ship.

And here I was, standing in a hotel room in a five star hotel in some dress I...I didn’t finish, balling the silky material in my fist as I turned to the mirror. I braced my hands on the vanity. I tugged at my dirty blonde strands, bobby pins flying. I’d held back my tears before but I let them flow now, not caring that I was messing up my makeup. I winced as I pulled off the fake eyelashes and snatched up the Kleenex. I scrubbed my face as clean as I could, which wasn’t very much. I fled to the bathroom and twisted the gold plated knobs, water flooding the quartz sink. My washcloths at home were threadbare and riddled with frayed strings, but they got the job done. The ones hanging with care were too soft so the makeup didn’t budge, which just made me cry harder.

I heard the knocks at the door and knew who was doing the knocking, but I wasn’t budging from this spot until I found ‘me’ beneath all this other stuff. The me who had every right not to forgive and forget. The me who had accepted that Lincoln was no longer a part of my life. The me who didn’t get swept up in the gray eyes and the deep voice and the strong hands. I wasn’t 18 anymore. I knew better now.

I looked like a drowned rat and I didn’t care. I stared defiantly at my reflection, not turning toward the sound of the hotel door being opened. I knew who the intruder was. What could I do? Tell him to get out? To get out of the room that he paid for?

“I’ll be on the couch when you’re ready,” his voice carried into the bathroom.

That hadn’t changed. Back then his voice commanded attention, filled the entire room, and you couldn’t help but hang on to every word. If he hadn’t followed his father’s footsteps, he would have kicked major ass in politics. He knew just what to say, just how to charm anyone and anything. He had me all but eating out of his hand, ready to toss aside years of hurt and loneliness in favor of one night of passion.

The running eyeliner had turned me into a raccoon, but when I wheeled to the door, I was a tiger, baring me teeth.

“I was ready five years ago, Lincoln. Now? Not so much.”

“Catherine-”

I took the washcloth and hurled it at his head. This man had athleticism in his blood so he ducked out of the way effortlessly, but his face darkened like I’d hit him square in the jaw.

“I know I left you. I know I hurt you. And I can’t take it back. I’d give anything, everything to take it back. I’m-”

“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry!” I screeched. Anger possessed me and I flew to the door.

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to claw his eyes out.

I wanted to kiss him.

So I did the only thing I could think of so I wouldn’t do just that.

I slammed the door in his face.

Even through the shut door, I heard him sigh. “I told you I was going to fight for you. It’s going to take a lot more than washcloths and closed doors to make me give up.”

---