Kiss Me by W. Winters & Amelia Wilde

Author:W. Winters & Amelia Wilde [Winters, W. & Wilde, Amelia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Willow Winters Publishing LLC

If Kam noticed the tension between Zander and me, he doesn’t let on.

That doesn’t change the fact, though, that I feel as if I’ve been caught. My rapid pulse and wide eyes give it away, if only Kam would look at me rather than watching a very calm Zander leave the room. I catch sight of his hand flexing on the way out; it’s the only indication he gives that maybe he’s not as collected as he appears.

I have a moment to fix my expression, and I take it. What’s happening between Zander and me is mine, mine alone. I need this and I’m unwilling to allow anyone to take it away. It’s only once we’re alone that Kam takes the seat Zander occupied only moments ago.

He sits on the edge of it, leaning forward and resting his forearms on his thighs. “I had a meeting tonight.”

“A meeting.” I mutter the words and already feel on edge. The urgency makes sense. Kam’s a buffer between myself and “others.” In the past he’s negotiated deals, dealt with threats, lawsuits, slander. Anything that would threaten me or my estate in any way.

The times in the past where he’s had “meetings” that led to him barging in like this generally meant things needed to change in some form or another. Suddenly all the heat threatens to overwhelm me, and I find myself staring at the fireplace that is no longer lit.

“I’ve gone over a number of things and I want to start with how to get you back out there,” he tells me and that’s not at all what I was expecting.

“I wanted to talk about creating routines and maybe …” He’s anxious as he pauses and breathes in deeply, as if what he’s about to say is controversial. “Maybe posting again.”

There’s a small crack in my chest that’s raw at the idea of it. It’s so very small, though, only a sliver.

“Let’s get you together; new hair, maybe?” he offers and I only half smile back at his grin.

“A woman who cuts her hair …” he begins, and I complete the Coco Chanel quote for him.

“… is about to change her life.”

“Just a snapshot, just to tell them you’re okay.” I nod along with his plan. “What do you want them to know?”

I offer the first words that come to mind: “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, no,” he says, comforting me. “There is no room for that. You don’t owe them an apology.”

“I’m trying.”

“I love that about you. I love you,” he emphasizes. His lips form a thin smile and it’s contagious, although the sorrow lingers.

“I love you too.”

“I know you do.”

“I’m trying,” I repeat, then offer as a possibility, “I’m working through it.”

“Love this.” Kam nods and claps his hands in celebration then adds, “They’re going to be so happy to hear from you.”

“Can I have my phone back?” When everything happened a year ago, Kam took control of my social media accounts, including changing the passwords.

“… I’ll be monitoring comments and moderating as needed.

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