Chosen by a Stranger (Craved Series #5) Page 3

  For a while, we just stayed like that, hugging on our knees. But with every second that passed where she didn't speak, I grew more anxious. A moment later, I loosened my arms and put my hands on her shoulders so I could lean her back and look at her face.

  At least two silent tears had escaped her eyes and left a wet trail over her cheeks.

  "Please tell me those are tears of joy," I said.

  "Of course they are," she said, wiping her eyes, "but-"

  My stomach dropped to the floor.

  She cast her eyes down between us.

  I lowered my head so my eyes could meet hers. "But what?"

  "I still need more time."

  I wanted to shake her. I wanted to say, “don't do this, Audrey. Don't let me walk out of here feeling like this when you've found a guy that not only would do anything for you, but actually could.”

  But there wasn't enough breath in my lungs or energy in my body. And I wasn't going to fucking beg for her love when she had never begged for mine and I loved that about her.

  So I dropped my arms and stood up. Then I turned and picked my shirt up off the chair.

  She looked up at me from the ground for a moment before rising to her feet. "It's not a no, Jack. I just need more time to think about it."

  "Well, I hope you need space then, too, because I can't hang around here while you think about whether or not you're about to break my heart." I started for the door.

  "Jack, please," she said, coming after me. "Don't leave like this. Let's get breakfast or something. Or just talk. Whatever you want we’ll-"

  "You know what I want," I said, pausing at the door. "But now would be a good time to figure out what the hell you want."

  "Time," she said. "I told you. That's all. Please." She put a hand on my shoulder and lowered her voice. "If you love me you'll understand."

  I tried to memorize her face in that moment- the way her cheekbones called my attention up to her eyes, the pink shade of her lips.

  Then I walked out.

  Because I couldn't spend another second with her. Not if she couldn't agree to be mine. It was too painful, especially now that I knew how bad I wanted her.

  And if she loved me, she would understand.

  Chapter 6: Audrey

  I stared at the door for ages after he left, the same door he came through just twenty-four hours earlier. It was like he couldn't pass through it without giving me a shock.

  But all I could do was stand there because there were so many emotions running through my body I didn't know which one I should grab hold of.

  I wanted to get swept up in his proposal. Clearly that would’ve been the most fun emotion to cling to. And I couldn't believe he'd dropped shirtless to my bedroom floor and asked me again like that. It was the last thing I was expecting.

  And to say he loved me like that? With everything?! It still hadn't even sunken in. And despite the fact that I didn't believe he could possibly feel that way about me so soon and be sane, I wanted to believe him.

  Besides, maybe sanity was overrated.

  After all, I knew from experience that sanity was a lot like unicorns, extremely subjective and likely an entirely fictional concept.

  Plus, logical reasoning is why I was standing here alone when two seconds ago I was in bed with the man of my dreams and a potentially life changing offer on the table.

  And I had to think about it?

  I mean, I still felt like I'd done the right thing, but I couldn't remember why I felt like it was a good decision. And the fact that Jack left the way he did- after saying things that made me feel higher than I'd ever felt before- was causing me to second guess myself.

  In other words, my stomach felt like a clothes dryer full of forks.

  At the same time, I was pissed. Where on Earth did he get the nerve to storm out like that? If anyone was being completely out of line in the situation, surely it was him.

  Which was bittersweet.

  Because on the one hand, I was angry that he didn't get a grip on himself enough to stick around and discuss what the hell was going on.

  On the other, I was tickled by his reaction because it made what we had feel more like a real relationship than anything that had happened before.

  Cause we'd had our first fight! Maybe we did have something here! Maybe we were a couple! Either that or I was just deranged to make that connection.

  But I knew it wasn't the presence of quarreling that made a relationship real, it was how a couple came out the other side.

  And it was too soon to tell whether that was going to happen. But I wanted it, too. I think. Or at least that's how I felt when I realized both the angel and the devil on my shoulder felt like I'd made a big mistake by letting Jack walk out like that.

  Fuck.

  I turned away from the door because staring at it wasn't giving me any clarity on the situation. Perhaps a cup of tea would do the trick. Or at least it would give me an excuse to sit down and put my head in my hands which seemed like the only thing to do.

  On my way down the hall, I saw my motorcycle helmet on the ground. I hadn't even noticed Jack pick his up, but he'd left mine where it lay. I bent over and picked it up, staring at my puffy face in the visor.

  There was only one reason for me to have a motorcycle helmet, and that was if I had a boyfriend with a motorcycle.

  I sighed.

  I hoped I hadn't blown it. I mean, the first time he asked it just sort of spilled out of him with the enthusiasm of someone who thinks they've come up with a life changing invention.

  But the second time wasn't like that. Sure, I hadn't seen it coming either, but it was obvious that he was choosing his words carefully and that he meant every one of them.

  He even made me believe in what he was saying for a moment, made me believe that I was the amazing woman he was describing. And maybe I was a fool for not jumping at the chance to commit to a man who thought I was all that.

  But it was too late.

  Instead of taking a leap of faith, I said I needed more time without ever knowing if a third proposal was in the cards. Maybe that was asking too much. I mean, who did I think I was that Jack Quinn should have to ask me more than once to marry him?!

  But even if he didn't understand, I knew it wasn't because I was playing hard to get. On the contrary, he of all people should know how easy I was to get. He was so far ahead of the pack when it came to sweeping me off my feet he didn’t even have any competition.

  I just wasn't ready.

  After all, I spent years thinking I was ripe for the picking and that someone would come along and woo me right off my feet, but it didn't happen. So eventually, I lost hope, lowered my expectations, and prepared myself for a less extravagant suitor to come around and be- if not handsome and rich and funny- decent company, preferably with a valid driver's license and health insurance.

  So excuse me for being skeptical when the most impressive man I've ever met makes me shake with pleasure all day before asking me if I would be willing to let him be responsible for every subsequent orgasm I’d ever have.

  Come on! How could I not pinch myself and think it was a trap?

  I filled the kettle and flicked the switch before pulling out a kitchen chair.

  Of course, I'd be lying if I said I wished he hadn't asked. His words were by far the sweetest anyone had ever said to me, and I would always remember the serious look on his face as he told me he loved me before dropping down to say it slowly, taking his time to make sure I heard every word.

  And I did.

  And I was still hearing them.

  In fact, I was hearing them over the sound of the boiling kettle for who knows how long. I stood up and poured myself a cup of tea, dropping a green tea bag in the cup and watching as the flavor escaped from the small sack.

  I wondered how long Jack would wait. A day? A few weeks? Months? Would he even wait at all?

  Clearly I hadn't given him the answer he was hoping for, and that seemed to have blinded him
to the thought of asking any follow up questions.

  Like how the hell long do you need?!

  Or maybe he just knew better than to ask that.

  And it's just as well because I had no idea. I didn't even know how I was going to tell him when I'd come up with my answer. Or if he'd even want to hear it by then.

  My heart sank as I remembered the look on his face as he walked out the door. I wish he'd said something else.

  Like the “the offer's on the table” or “here's where you can reach me” or even “thanks for a great night.” Something to let me know that he was okay and that he was looking forward to hearing from me- or seeing me again- soon.

  But at the same time, I knew it wasn't his fault that things ended so awkwardly.

  It was mine.

  Because I'd failed to say the thing that might've made him stay.

  I'd failed to say, "I love you, too."

  Chapter 7: Jack

  I hated to leave her looking so upset, and I knew she felt that I was behaving unfairly, but I couldn't stay and console her.

  Not when I was feeling so rejected.

  Or maybe foolish was more accurate.

  Either way, it sucked, and as I rode the elevator to the lobby, I felt my stomach sinking with every floor.

  When I reached my bike in her parking garage, I slipped my helmet on and checked my watch. Or rather, I would've liked to have checked my watch but it wasn't there.

  I must've left it at her place.

  I sighed.

  I couldn't exactly go upstairs and ask for it after all that, could I? No, definitely not. Of course, I didn't know if I was ever going to see her again.

  Obviously, I wanted to. After all, I'd just told her as sincerely and clearly as I could that I wanted to see her as much as possible every day for the rest of my life.

  But there was a chance I'd scared her off for good or that if I did see her again, she would just stomp my heart into the ground where it already lay.

  I swallowed and pushed that thought to the back of my mind. I didn't even want to entertain that possibility.

  She had to be mine. My stubborn brain had already closed the door on every other possibility.

  I loved her and I wanted her. And if I was ever going to stop getting what I wanted, I wasn't going to start now by giving up on the greatest opportunity of my life, the opportunity to spoil Audrey rotten every day until my last.

  But it felt awful to think that there was nothing I could do to help her make up her mind, nothing I could do to further demonstrate what a catch I was.

  Except give her what she wanted.

  Time.

  Which meant I had some time to kill.

  I rode the bike out of the garage, pulled over along the curb outside her building, and looked up at it, imagining the way she was probably pacing the floor and drinking bad instant coffee.

  Whatever she was doing, I hoped the time she needed had already started because my heart wouldn’t stay open forever. Eventually, it would try to protect me by closing up.

  And I didn't want to talk myself out of her, especially when everything in my body was telling me she was The One.

  I flipped down my visor and rode back to my hotel, leaving my bike with the concierge.

  There was one thing I needed to do before I made my plans for the next few days.

  I marched into the flower shop on the hotel's ground floor. The same young woman was behind the counter as the day before.

  "Hello, again," she said, her face lighting up with recognition.

  "Good morning," I said.

  "How can I help you today?"

  "I was wondering if you do same day delivery."

  "Of course," she said. "Anywhere in the city."

  "Great. I'd like you to deliver a vase for me."

  "A vase?"

  "Yes, one that will fit the flowers I bought yesterday."

  "I see," she said, looking down and flipping through a binder with thin pages.

  "It was that one," I said, pointing to the right where the largest bouquets were displayed.

  "Right." She looked at it. "And is the vase that bouquet is in suitable or would you like to pick another?"

  "That one is fine," I said, knowing I'd go cross eyed if I started looking at minutely different cut crystal.

  "And how soon would you like it deliver-"

  "As soon as possible."

  "It can be there before noon with an extra charge."

  "The end of the day is fine." I didn't want it to arrive too quickly when I was confident she was still thinking about me, about us. It would be better if it came later, when her mind may have wandered.

  "That will be-"

  I handed my card across the counter.

  "Seventy-five dollars."

  I winced. Not because I couldn't afford it, but because I could get a gorgeous vase in Thailand for a fiver. Fortunately, the woman didn't see and carried on processing the order.

  "What would you like it to say on the card?"

  I was about to say a card wasn't necessary when I changed my mind. "Could I write it?"

  "Of course," she said, setting a pen and a small blank card on the counter in front of me.

  It only took me a second, but I hoped it would mean a bit more that it was in my writing. When I was done, I handed the card back to the woman and smiled, wondering if Audrey ever wore the kind of glossy red lipstick she was wearing and what it would be like to see her kisses stamped down my body and all over my-

  "Will that be all for today?" the woman asked with a smile.

  "Yes, thank you."

  I walked out of the shop, taking a last deep breath of the sweet smelling room before meeting the crisp, manufactured air of the lobby.

  Now that I'd taken care of Audrey's immediate needs, it was time to check up on the other woman in my life.

  I returned to my room, pulled my phone out of my back pocket, and walked to the window to check out the view. It was nothing compared to the one from the Space Needle I enjoyed with Audrey last night- and certainly no match for the vistas inside her apartment.

  My phone rang in my hand and I looked down at it, hoping against all odds that it would be her.

  But it was Jerry, the poor pit bull.

  "Jerry- how are ya?" I said, thinking I ought to keep him on his toes in case I needed his help securing a stateside job in the near future.

  "Jack- I can't believe I caught you. I was just getting ready to leave a message."

  "Miracles do happen, eh?"

  "I guess so."

  "What was your message going to say?" I asked, hoping I could encourage him to be brief.

  "I have a job for you. If you want it, that is."

  I could hear in his voice that years of being blown off had lowered his expectations when it came to my cooperation and enthusiasm.

  "I'm listening," I said.

  "You're the first person I thought of."

  "I appreciate that, Jer. Now spit it out."

  "Basically it's a contract for a- now hear me out first before you say no- for a TV show."

  He knew I wasn't interested in living my life in the public eye, but I decided to humor him for a second because his call was a distraction I appreciated for once.

  "It's a panel of doctors," he said. "All with different specialties, age groups, and ethnicities who discuss health related topics five days a week and answer common questions that the public has. They're predicting around forty million viewers a day in the first month."

  "Wow."

  "I remembered how much you enjoyed helping all those people with your book and thought you might be interested."

  "Are any of these doctors practicing or are they just celebrities?"

  "Actually, that's the only problem. They're all practicing. It's kind of one of the conditions of being on the show."

  "No kidding."

  "I don't kid, Jack. You know that," he said. "But if you were ever thinking of practicing again, now woul
d be a good time."

  "Funny that you mention that," I said. "The thought has actually crossed my mind recently."

  "Is that right?" he said. "I'm so glad I called."