Page 98 of Take It Offline

From the beginning, he found his way under my skin, under my armor, and it never turned him off. Even when we argue, he keeps up, keeps digging deeper.

With every layer he uncovers, he leaves a mark. Time and time again, he proves with his hands and his mouth and his attention that every part of me is worth seeing.

Even the parts I hide are valuable.

CHAPTER 32

I’M A THIEF, SWEETHEART

CHARLIE

I’ve worked my ass off to get an address on Park Blvd. Four hundred square feet overlooking an alleyway might not impress anyone else, but it’s more than I’ve ever had. And—and this is the real kicker—I can afford it.

Never in a million years did I expect to have more than two dollars to scrape together, and here I am, with actual savings, a closet full of labels, and a fridge full of food.

I still don’t know where I’m going, but it’s better than where I’ve been.

Emma was so worked up after meeting with Roberts that I did the only thing I could. I kept her close and brought her home.

I get it now, how she felt when I saw her place for the first time. Opening herself up to scrutiny. Allowing me into the inner sanctum.

I don’t feel like boasting much now.

After what feels like an eternity, she turns back to me, a question in her eyes. “I’m not sure if you remember, but my apartment is on the other side of town.”

“Your point?” It’s a tease, a gamble, to lighten the darkness she’s drowning in. I’m not about to trivialize her anger—she’searned it—but I want to make it clear that I’m offering her a lifeline.

The smile she gifts me is small but powerful. It lights up the dark corners of my heart in the way only Emma can.

“You’re a good man, Charlie.”

I’ve been called worse things, much truer things, but she can call me anything she wants if it makes her smile.

Because it’s so goddamn beautiful.

And I hate myself, because I’m about to make it disappear.

“I have to tell you something.”

I don’t know what happened in Roberts’s office today, but I can take a pretty good guess. And now I owe her the truth.

Emma is quiet while I lay it all out—how Roberts has been working against her, every ugly detail I remember.

I expect her to blow up. I’d deserve it. So would he. By my own hand, we’ve come full circle—her slighted, me to blame. She should be raging.

I want her to.

She doesn’t. Worse, she apologizes, sorry that I got pulled into a scheme neither of us could have seen coming or had any control over.

It’s a testament to how incredible she is.

What a fucking joke.

No, not a joke. Jokes are funny. Even clever.

This is bullshit. Plain and simple.

“That’s why you were so adamant we work together,” she says.

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