Page 151 of Holiday Hire

"Don't say stuff like that. You know you don't know what's between us. You're figuring this out.I'mfiguring this out. Don't say long-term stuff like that," I reprimand.

He stares at me. The silence becomes too much. The tension thickens, and thoughts run through my head about how I don't know where this ends.

After my two-month contract is up, will he kick me out? Is it going to be over between us? Am I going to have to figureout where to move to and get new employment with a broken heart?

I scold myself, trying to convince my brain we haven't been together long enough for me to have a broken heart, yet I realize it's too late.

I'm in love with Alexander Cartwright, and even though he doesn't love me, I hope he will someday. But he might never because he's used to casual, and I don't even know how to do anything but serious.

He tugs me closer to him so my legs are between his hips. He puts his hand through my hair and leans closer, stopping inches from my face. His hot breath hits my lips. His challenging stare locks on my eyes. He orders, "Listen to me, Phoebe. There's nothing between Cheyenne and me. I told you we were just friends with benefits. I've neverhaddeep feelings for her. I neverwill havedeep feelings for her."

"What does that even mean?"

"What does what mean?" he questions.

"Deep feelings," I ask, scared I'll not get the answer I want.

He doesn't hesitate, declaring, "It means I care about you. It means when I think about the person I want to be with, it's you, not her or any other woman.You. Do you understand that?"

His words should make me feel better and heal anything between us, yet a small part of me isn't satisfied. I want him to tell me he loves me like I love him, but he doesn't, or he would tell me. And I wonder if he ever will.

Am I in another situation where I'll be left alone, wondering where I went wrong with the man in my life?

Alexander presses his lips to mine. As much as I want to fight him, I can't. His tongue urgently pushes against mine, and within seconds, I'm submitting to him, kissing him with the cold air circling our bodies.

He retreats. "Pheebs, I'm only going to say this one more time. I need you to listen and really hear me. Do you understand?"

I take a shaky breath and nod. "Okay."

He asserts, "You're the one I want, no one else. I don't care what Cheyenne says or how loud she screams it. There was never anything besides sex between us, and there never will be."

"Do you miss it?" I blurt out and then cringe. I hate that I'm expelling all my fears to him.

His face drops. "Besides Cheyenne interrupting our date with her false narrative, have I given you any reason to doubt how I feel about you?"

My insides quiver harder. I ask, "But what about the sex?"

He grunts, claiming, "I don't miss anything about Cheyenne, including the sex. I love everything you and I have together."

He loves everything between us.

Does he loveme?

It's not the same thing as saying "I love you."

I just need to give him more time.

He continues, "I mean it, Phoebe. You're the one I want. Now, what do I have to do to make you believe it?"

I swallow hard and push away Cheyenne's voice in my head, along with the look she gave me, that screamed I was worthless and she was everything to him.

Alexander urges, "Tell me."

I softly answer, "Just kiss me again."

He grins, and within seconds, I'm back in my nirvana of Alexander's lips and tongue all over me. Before I know it, he's pulling off my pants, and a loud clang echoes in the darkness from his belt buckle hitting the metal sideboard.

I hold him tighter, drowning in him, desperately wanting all of him for only myself.

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