Page 46 of The Lawyer
I sag on her and close my eyes, forehead resting on her heaving chest and mouth close to those exposed nipples. Jesus Christ. What a fucking mess she’s led us into now. Deceit, treachery. I don’t know what to think, and still being inside her warmth isn’t helping me see anything clearly. The shame of it is, I don't want her to leave, irrespective of the fact that she should.
A stripper and my Willow. One and the same.
Sleep. That’s probably useful if I can manage it because this rising temper isn't going to solve anything, and talking in that frame of mind won't help either.
I roll until I'm on my side, pulling her back to me. She whimpers, mumbles something, and shuffles in closer as if this is comfortable. As if we are. Yet she's still in her shirt, and she's still deceitful regardless of our current position. I don't know what that means to me, or what she means to me either, but I do pull the shirt from her skin and unclasp the bra so she's naked. Temper or not, I'm taking some comfort for the night. Tomorrow morning might be a different matter entirely.
Sleep and thought. That's all I've got for now.
Chapter Sixteen
WILLOW
Ican’t remember the last time I woke up in a guy's bed.
My eyes open, and I remain still, not wanting to break the illusion of slumber just yet. If I’m honest, I’m in shock that Landon didn’t kick me out. As exhausted and sated as I was, I’d have put money on him asking me to leave just like he left mine last week. Same thing with the way he shoved me out of the office the time before that. There’s no real affection between us, just sex. Although, for me, there’s something between us that is more than physical. We’ve just refused to acknowledge it because the situation is complicated enough being just sex.
Staying over blurs the lines we’ve drawn even further.
He got quiet pretty quick after we screwed, and with the secrets I’ve kept from him, I’m anxious that he’ll find out and not allow me to explain.
With the nerves fluttering in my stomach, I turn over to face him only to find an empty space in the bed next to me. I roll over and let my arms splay out wide in the empty bed. I couldn’t even say if he spent the night with me or crept out ten minutes after I’d fallen asleep. Is this more or less awkward than just leaving after the deed?
I slip from the relative safety of the fluffy duvet and into the bathroom, refusing to start imagining where I’d put everything if I lived here. Hard to do considering the man I've just slept with and where I am, but I need to keep reality at the forefront of my mind.
After taking care of business and getting dressed, the only thing that's left is finding Landon. The apartment is eerily quiet when I get downstairs, and for a moment, I wonder if he simply left me here alone, but as I peer around the kitchen, I find him sitting at the table with a coffee, and his tablet, in hand.
“Hey,” I offer.
“Morning.”
He doesn’t look up. His face is locked in concentration, and the dismissive tone takes me back to the first few times we met. My mind races to conclusions about what I’ve done wrong or that he’s finally bored. He didn’t have any problems communicating after the previous times we slept together, but that could be my paranoia or guilt talking. And I did turn him down last night. Perhaps he only wanted sex, and me standing up and saying no to anal has dented his ego? At least that's an easier reason than what it could be. My tattoo would have been visible last night, and as much as I fought to hide it, maybe he recognised it and put it all together.
The nerves from earlier turn to a lead weight in my stomach. My tongue feels dry in my mouth, and my palms are clammy. All this time just standing before him, waiting for one of us to talk, but lost as to what to say.
He moves suddenly, making me jump.
“I have to get to the office. You need to go home and change. I’ll see you at work.” He doesn’t even look me in the eye, just walks past me, dismissing me like the expert he’s become at that particular manoeuvre.
Well, if he's going to play the arsehole, then fine.
I can’t quite let it go, and I worry about it over and over as I leave and head home to change. I try to find a logical and less incriminating reason for his behaviour, but it’s wishful, stupid thinking, and I know it. My heart might be conjuring imaginary plans, but my head is the realist—Landon will never consider a serious relationship with either Willow or Juniper.
With the detour home and then back to the office, I'm running late. Despite Landon knowing this, I send him a quick text. Nothing comes back. And by the time I arrive, our usual morning meeting has come and gone, so I make him his coffee and take it right in.
As I walk across to his desk, he keeps his eyes focused on his work. “Can I get you anything else? Or perhaps we can go over the policy updates I’ve collated. They’ll need to go to HR, but-”
“Just email them,” he murmurs.
I nod, even though he can’t see, and turn to leave.
The sting of his words is more painful than I expect. I thought we’d moved past that and even shared a connection that was more than professional courtesy. It was something meaningful, at least on my behalf, and now all I can see is that crumbling away because I slept with him. Or because I lied to him.
Either way, last night is turning out to be a big mistake.
No matter how hard I try to concentrate, all I can do is stare at the door to his office. I want to march back in there and tell him he should apologise, or tell him that I’m sorry, or come clean. Hell, I might as well admit that I have feelings for him and that sleeping with him has turned my world upside down while I’m at it. But I don’t, because any of those things will surely make this worse.
“Willow, come in here,” his voice snaps over the intercom.
