Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
He slides his MacBook into his briefcase and glances at his Rolex. “It’s four. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Why don’t we grab a bite close to your place?”
My place. My very small, very humble place. I try not to think about it. I worked hard for my duplex. I need to be proud of it and my accomplishments. And if he doesn’t see that, he’s not the right man for me. “There are lots of amazing places close to me. That’s why I chose that neighborhood to live and work.”
“Take me to your favorite spot.” His eyes are warm, his voice warmer, and I melt.
I’m falling for him. Hard. Devastatingly hard. And suddenly, our two worlds are different in ways beyond money. He’s had stunning women like Anna who he’s walked away from. I’ve had barely anyone. He says we’re not a fling, but I caution myself that I’ll soon be deeply embedded in his life and his world. But I’m visiting. And it’s important to remember that we’re going on an adventure together, creating a brand and a business that benefits us both. In the process, I’m a visitor who gets the rare view of his private life. And visitors go back home.
Sooner or later.
Chapter Eighteen
Sofia
The driver drops us at the door of my favorite Italian restaurant, but the wait is ridiculously long, and I know from my conversations with Ethan today that he left New York at five in the morning. He needs rest, and I find myself waving off the woman adding us to the waitlist and motioning Ethan outside. Once we’re on the sidewalk, we step toward the wall, out of the way of foot traffic. “Do you want to try someplace else?”
I have a fleeting moment of worry over my humble home versus his luxurious lifestyle, but I push past it, hard and fast. I love my little place, and I earned it myself. I’m not going to allow myself to be intimidated by his wealth. “My place is a few blocks away,” I say. “Let’s order pizza. It’s been a long day.”
His eyes sharpen, and his hand slides to my back and molds me closer. “I was worried I wasn’t getting that invitation.”
“Why would you think that?”
“I could feel your awkwardness over what comes next.”
“It’s not the elite hotel room you’re used to staying at, Ethan.”
“It has you in it. That makes it perfect. And I want to see your home.”
“It’s not—”
“Don’t say what you’re about to say again. Your house is a part of you, and you are what matters to me. You interest me, Sofia. In every possible way.”
His voice is raw and rough but somehow manages to be possessive and tender at the same time. This man really is here for me, and it blows my mind and heats my body. I melt into him, my hand pressing beneath his jacket to the warmth seeping through his shirt. I don’t know what this is between us, but every warning I issue to myself crashes to the ground and shatters. I’m incapable of protecting myself with him. I can only live in the moment. I give up any other plan. “I’m really happy you’re here,” I confess.
He cups my face and tilts my gaze to his. “Are you?”
“Oh yes. Too much. I have no doubt before this is over you will crush my heart into tiny pieces.”
“I could say the same of you.”
“Impossible. You are—”
“Obsessed with you, Sofia. If you were anyone else, I’d be telling you I don’t do relationships, but I’m not saying that. I’m not thinking that. So, when you say I’ll break your heart, and I say you may break mine, what if we don’t? What if this is that good?”
A horn honks and I jolt, gripping the lapels of his jacket. “We should get out of here,” he says.
“Yes,” I agree.
“I’ll have Paul drop my bags at the door.”
I nod and release him as he reaches in his jacket and shoots a text to Paul before he slides his arm around my shoulder and fits me snugly against him, our bodies aligned. And in that moment, he’s the shelter I didn’t know I needed, and it feels fairly wonderful. I direct him straight and to the right, but I can’t stop thinking about him saying he’s obsessed with me. And the relationship thing has my mind chasing the definition of who we are together. Does he want to be in a relationship with me? I mean, he said we’re not a fling. I guess that means we’re in a relationship. Or just dating? Isn’t that a relationship? And doesn’t that mean I need to talk to my father? And the board? The board…
Now, only a block from my house, I halt and step in front of him, my hands on his chest. “What happens if we end up in a relationship and—”