Chance(43)

***

"I want to know about the chef."

I look over to where he's standing by the foot of the bed. He's fully dressed now. I'd showered after he came in my mouth and on my face. He'd wanted to taste me again but I needed a chance to breathe. I'd felt overwhelmed by the depth of our intimacy and the shower gave me the brief reprieve that I needed.

"What chef?" I brush past him to pull a pair of panties from the drawer I'd put them in when I unpacked. I choose a black lace pair and pull them on while he stares at me.

"I heard you talking to Clive about a guy one day when I came to your office. You said he was gorgeous and that he's a chef." His eyes slide over my bare breasts before they settle on my face. "Is he the guy you were going to have dinner with? Did that happen?"

The conversation feels foreign to me given the fact that we'd just spent the day sharing ourselves with each other. "Why are you talking about this now?"

He rubs his hand over his chin. "We should talk about what we expect from each other when we get back to New York."

No. We shouldn't talk about that because I don't want to hear him tell me that he's going to f*ck other women when I can still taste his desire on my lips.

"Now?" I spit back as I pull a black t-shirt over my head. "Why now?"

His feet shuffle over the floor as he scrubs his hand over the back of his neck. "Things are different now. Everything is different between us now."

"I'm not seeing anyone. I don't have any plans to see anyone."

"What about the chef?"

"I've never met him. I don't know anything about him," I half-lie. I had done a quick Google search of his name when Ivy first told me about him. He's handsome, in an unkempt, dark haired, tattooed and sexy as all hell kind of way. He's making big waves in the culinary world and he's dating up a storm.

From the images I saw online of him coming out of virtually every hot club in New York the past few months, a quick f*ck is all that's on his menu. It would definitely be a fun experience but the emotional fall out from that isn't something I have time for. Tyler Monroe may have been someone I'd want to hook up with a few months ago, but my feelings are so jumbled around Caleb now, that I can't see past that.

"Caleb." I rest both of my hands against his chest. "I'm not going to go on a date with him. I'm not planning on dating anyone after what happened between us."

"I don’t… I'm not sure…Bell...,” he stammers as his eyes search my face. "I'm not sure we should only… I didn't think about us just seeing each other."

I close my eyes willing him to shut his goddamn mouth. "Stop. Just don't say it."

"I think we should talk about it now. It's important."

"Are you going to see other women when we get back to New York?"

"I don't know. I don't know what I'm going to do."

I won't cry. I'm not going to let him break me apart. "Do you regret what we did?"

"No." He grabs hold of my biceps, shaking me slightly. "I wanted that. I still want that. I want that and I want you to be my friend."

"I don't understand," I say because there's nothing else. "We can be lovers and friends. You know that we can be both, right?"

"I can't stand the thought of us hurting each other. I don't want that to happen and if we keep f*cking each other we will. It will kill me inside if I break your heart." His hands drop to his sides before he turns and walks out of the room.

It's all I need to hear. My life changing long weekend in the Hamptons just came to a screeching, painful halt.





Chapter 39


I told you so.

It's one of those things that you never want to hear anyone saying to you. It's degrading and emotionally debilitating. It's also a blunt reminder of how foolish you are. Once I walk through the door of my apartment, I expect Graham to be standing there with a bright neon sign with the words, "I told you so," written across it in big, bold letters.

I swallow my pride as I push open the door. He's right there, pulling me into a tight embrace before I even have time to explain the cryptic text I sent him an hour ago telling him that I'd been with Caleb but I was coming home early to hide in my bed.

"You look like hell, Rowan." He takes hold of my purse and my suitcase. "You should sit down. I can make you something to eat."

"No." I shake my head. "I'm not hungry."

"Do you want to take a bath?" He leads me to a chair in the living room. "I'll go get it ready for you."

He'll do it without question. I know that he will. I also know that he'll sit next to the tub and listen while I weep about how wonderful it felt to be wanted by Caleb only to turn around and hear him tell me that he wants to keep his options open. Graham will ask what lesson I've learned from the weekend and the only thing I can honestly offer is that I can't take showers when I'm around Caleb. I go in thinking he desires me more than any woman he's ever met and I come out to find him second guessing everything we share.

"I don't want to take a bath." I pat the arm of the chair. "Sit here with me."