Page 48 of In Love and War
I looked up reluctantly to find genuine worry in his eyes as he examined me, and was hit with another surge of feelings I didn’t want to acknowledge or deal with.
“I should go,” I said quickly, and my heart squeezed at how confused he looked when I stepped away from him.
I spotted my heels on the floor, swooped them up, and made my way to the door, closing it softly behind me.
I put on my shoes in the mirrored elevator, mortified at my appearance. Everything about me screamed “freshly screwed.”
And that’s when I realized I forgot my underwear.
Fuck.
16
Ididn’t sleep at all that night. I just tossed and turned in my bed, going over things in my head, trying to figure out how I let any of it happen.
I had spent the last seven—seven—years of my life working toward my goal of taking Zac down, fueled by my hatred for him and the relentless need to get my revenge. It had absolutely consumed me.
And that night, I’d let him tie me up and fuck my face.
And Ilikedit.
A lot.
Like,a lot,a lot.
And then there was the other… thing. The real problem with all of this.
I was wide-awake and staring at the ceiling when my alarm went off. I turned it off and forced myself out of bed and got dressed.
The absolute last thing I wanted to do was go to work.
I drankfour cups of coffee within the first two hours of the workday in an attempt to stay awake and productive. It barely did the trick.
Zac and David were supposed to be meeting with the Emerson team again and would be there for the majority of the day, so I wasn’t expecting to see either of them until the late afternoon.
Knowing how much I needed to get done, I secluded myself in the small spare office that Jessica had set aside for me and worked quietly, secretly hoping that I would be able to get away with not running into Zac for the whole day.
But of course, I wasn’t that lucky.
“Hey.”
I looked up at the door to see him standing there, looking like a Tom Fordian sex god in his black suit.
My breath hitched.
“Hey,” I said, very much aware of the fact that my cheeks were turning pink, “how was the meeting?”
“Good,” he replied. “Can I come in?”
He’s asking me for permission?
Something was off. And not in the way I had been expecting it to be. I was expecting awkward and confused and angry, not solemn or cautious.
“Uh, yeah, sure.”
He took a few steps in, and the door clicked shut behind him.
“You left pretty quickly yesterday,” he noted, slipping his hands into his pockets.
