Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 34702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
I leaned into his side, pressing my face against his coat to breathe in his scent…and hid my smug grin at how well he took care of me. I didn’t want him knowing just how fast I was getting attached.
When we reached my building, Raiden kept his hand on my lower back all the way to my door. As soon as we stepped inside, he headed straight for my bedroom.
“Tell me what you want to bring.” Opening my dresser drawers, I started pulling out clothes. He took each folded pile from me and placed it carefully into the open suitcase on the bed. When it was full, he grabbed another from the top shelf of my closet. The one I needed a step stool to reach.
I headed into the bathroom under the pretense of grabbing toiletries just so he wouldn’t see how flustered I was. I swallowed hard as he smoothed the last shirt into place, nervous about taking this next step. But when he locked my apartment door behind us and rolled both suitcases toward the elevator, I felt safe. Seen. Not alone for the first time in weeks.
And that might have been the scariest part of all.
10
RAIDEN
The first thing I did after she fell asleep in my bed that night was take the following morning off.
I didn’t ask. Didn’t run it by anyone. Just sent a text to my assistant letting her know I wouldn’t be coming in and to reschedule my afternoon walkthrough at The Tight Line. Or have Micah deal with it. It could wait.
Marissa couldn’t.
In the morning, I had a moving company load her shit onto a truck and bring it to our home. I stocked the fridge with the stupid organic yogurt she liked and rearranged the pantry so her prenatal vitamins were within arm’s reach, right next to the cereal she told me she loved.
After a week, there were still unopened boxes in the guest room, like she wasn’t sure she was allowed to claim space in my world.
I decided to take charge and make sure she knew this wasn’t fucking temporary.
By the time she woke up the next day, I’d already cleared out the top two drawers in my dresser and emptied space in my closet, then filled them with her clothes. I moved the toothbrushes around so hers wasn’t shoved into the corner of the bathroom counter like an afterthought. I tossed my razors and shaving cream into a drawer and laid her face wash and serum neatly beside the sink. The throw blanket she liked to snuggle under was on the couch with a tin of ginger candies on the end table beside it.
I didn’t make a big deal about it, just made the changes that would make her feel like this was her home.
When I walked back into the bedroom, Marissa was padding into the bathroom wearing one of my shirts, rubbing sleep from her eyes. She stopped in the doorway like she’d walked into a stranger’s apartment. I watched her expression change in the reflection of the mirror as her gaze swept the counter, the chair I’d placed at the vanity, and a drawer I’d left open so she would know it was for her.
She turned around, and her gaze went to the open closet door that revealed all her clothing neatly hung up next to mine. Then she noticed the jewelry box and other trinkets on my dresser before murmuring, “Did you do all this this morning?”
I shrugged. “You needed drawer space.”
A flush crept into her cheeks, but she didn’t argue.
I led her out to the kitchen, and she paused again when she spied the breakfast I’d made sitting on the island.
I didn’t say anything. Just pulled out a stool and handed her a fork, then poured her orange juice.
She took the glass with a small smile and sat down, that cautious hope in her eyes again. The kind that made me want to put a ring on her finger.
That first week and the one that followed were a slow transformation. Not just to the apartment, but for us as well.
Marissa wasn’t the type to depend on anyone. She didn’t want to be taken care of. Didn’t want to be hovered over. She said she could manage on her own.
So I let her. Sometimes.
I backed off where it made sense. Let her handle her own schedule and didn’t interfere when she had video calls or deadlines. But I made sure she never had to worry about anything else. Groceries showed up when the fridge was almost empty. Her vitamins sat by her water glass every morning. Her favorite tea was stocked in the cabinet. Soft slippers next to the bed. A plush robe hanging in the bathroom.
She called it sweet.
I called it nonnegotiable.
She rolled her eyes the first time I walked her to the couch and tucked her blanket around her legs after she yawned. “You know I can do that myself, right?”