My heart ached for Robbins. "That's awful, but he has to know that wasn't his fault."
"Yeah, I think he knows that now. It took him a year before he would even speak to me, though. I hired Peters and Warren for Lexi, but I only wanted Robbins. He was the only person I trusted."
"I'm glad he finally came around."
He nodded and smiled. "Me, too. He's been working with me again for the past year, but I still see the guilt he suffers. I think it helps seeing me and Lexi doing well, and happy. So last night probably was tough on him. I'm sure I wasn’t very nice to him. I kind of remember telling him to get out of my room and leave me alone. God, I was such an ass." He shook his head and swallowed hard, clearly regretful.
"I'm sure he'll understand."
"Yeah. We'll see." He placed a plate down in front of me.
"Thank you."
"No, thank you. I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't come over. Even though it was quite embarrassing, I'm glad you're here." He came to sit beside me.
We finished our lunch and then sat there at the kitchen bar, talking about the event, his work, and his time in London. I never knew exactly what he did and for some reason, I didn't feel it was appropriate to ask before. However, since I had found him drunk and passed out on his balcony, I felt like I could pretty much ask anything I wanted now.
I found out that Reed was actually an investment banker, but when the attack happened on his family, he decided to take over his dad's company, which was the largest real estate investment firm in New York. The London office was fairly new when Reed took over and he really just used it as an excuse to get out of New York. He never once asked a question about my personal life. If he did ask anything about me, it was mainly centered on work.
"I hope you didn't have anything you had to get done today," Reed said when there was finally a break in our conversation. "You just wasted the entire day on me."
"I wouldn't call it wasted." I smiled. "But I really should be going. I have work in the morning."
"Would you like to stay for dinner? I know the best Chinese in town."
8
REED AND I had moved to the couch after dinner, talking for hours, mostly about random things like what movies we liked, our favorite foods, and memories of growing up. I enjoyed hearing about the memories with his parents and Lexi. Strangely, I even talked about my mom, telling him about all the times I sat backstage while she dressed for her shows in Vegas. He didn't ask me any questions; he just allowed me to talk openly. I was surprised with how easily the words came out. It had been years since I spoke about my mother.
Tonight, not only was I seeing a side of myself I hadn't seen in a while, I was also seeing a totally different side of Reed Alexander. He wasn't the destroyed man who still felt guilt over his parents’ deaths and the attack on his sister. He wasn't the successful real estate investor that the city of New York knew him to be. He wasn’t the playboy/heartbreaker Christine had made him out to be. After a few hours of talking, it seemed like he was just a normal guy. He had normal likes and desires. He wanted normal things. He wanted to settle down and have a family.
Our conversation drifted to the topic of music. Instead of telling me his favorite band or singer, he made his way across the room and pulled a CD off the shelf. That’s when things took a drastic, much more serious turn.
"How about some Sinatra?" He turned back around to measure my reaction.
"Sure." I nodded and smiled.
He turned back and popped the CD into the stereo. "When I was younger, my mother used to play his music all day and night," he said, grabbing the remote and setting the music to play. "I have a lot of good memories with this music. I don’t think there was a bigger Sinatra fan than her, and now, I guess I am, too."
He walked back toward me, but he didn't sit back down beside me. Instead, he stood in front of me and held out his hand. "Would you like to dance?"
I wasn’t expecting that. My heart hammered as I looked up at his face and then back to his hand just a few inches away. Those feelings I had tried to keep bottled up, the feelings just being in his presence ignited in me, flared up again. I wanted to reach up and grab his hand, but I hesitated, not sure what that kind of contact would lead to.
"It's just a dance, Emily, but you can tell me no if you don't want to."
One simple word. No.
As much as I wanted to say it, knowing it would keep things simple between us, I felt my resolve slipping. I felt myself wanting to be close to him. I felt myself wanting to be touched by him. Even though I knew I would be treading in dangerous waters, I was still a woman. I still had needs. I still wanted to be touched and loved.
Looking at his hand again, I placed mine in his. He slowly pulled me up and wrapped his arms around my waist, eying me cautiously with every move he made.
"Is this okay?" he asked when his hands rested on the small of my back.
"Yes," I breathed out. His touch felt scorching, even against my shirt, awakening the embers inside me that had been buried as long as I could remember.
"And this?" he asked, pulling me toward him. My breasts pushed against his chest.
I nodded again, swallowing hard. My hands trembled as they slowly ran up his arms, finally locking around his neck.
"Believe me. I won't try anything without asking you first. I've been told by Brandon to watch myself around you."
I shook my head. "I think you're fine. I usually don't go around breaking people's noses."
The left side of his mouth tugged upward. I returned his smile as he pulled me closer, watching me closely, waiting for me to give him any signal that this wasn't okay.
Being this close to a man felt foreign to me. It had been a long time since I'd been touched by another man, besides Jake, and even longer since I actually wanted one to. With Jake, I cringed every time he would touch me. I would squeeze my eyes shut and just hope whatever he wanted to do to me would be over quick. But with Reed, right now, I wanted to get even closer. I never wanted the dance to end.
Our dance was sweet and innocent. My racing heart started to relax. I rested my head on his shoulder as we swayed to the music. It wasn't until he kissed the top of my head and ran his lips across my forehead that I knew this innocent dance was going to be so much more.
I pulled back slowly and he looked down on me.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that." His voice was soft but husky.
"It's okay." I talked around the lump in my throat as I fought back tears. I wasn’t sure why I was flooded with the feeling like I wanted to cry, but at that moment, it was overwhelming. Maybe they were happy tears. Happy that I wanted to be touched again, happy that I liked being touched again. The current song was ending and I wondered what it would be like when we finally broke apart. Right now, I felt warm and safe in his arms. I wasn't ready for that feeling to end.
"Would you like to keep dancing?" he asked, almost if he were reading my thoughts.
"Yes," I answered quickly. I wanted to be in his arms all night.
By the time the third song ended, I knew us breaking apart was inevitable, but I wasn't quite ready to let him go. He finally began to pull away from me. I could already feel the coldness where his arms were before. Our eyes locked together and my gaze dropped to his lips.