Knocking Boots: A Sexy Standalone Contemporary Romance by Willow Winters & Vivian Wood

Author:Willow Winters & Vivian Wood [Winters, Willow]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-03-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 34

Charlie

I'm starting a new habit. It’s a leaving work because I don’t give a fuck habit.

A shaky breath leaves me as I look out of the window and think about how Michael tried to stop me. He held me back at the bar, keeping me from Grace and wanting to know every fucking detail. And I told him. Every last detail, too.

I told him how I felt about her. How I was pissed that she told Diane.

But I keep coming back to one thing. If I didn’t mean anything to her, why did she stand up to Ali and try to make it better? Why did she come back to the bar?

I don’t give a fuck what she told Diane.

The light goes from red to green, and I hit the gas pedal. I'm driving as fast as I can to go to her.

I want Grace. And I know some piece of her wants me, too. I clench my jaw as the next light turns yellow and I think about just blowing through it, but I slow down and try to calm the fuck down. I know where she lives. I’ve seen her ID plenty of times before, and she’s told me her address more than once, flirting and teasing about taking her home. I never thought this would be the fucking reason I’m finally going to her apartment.

I don’t even know what I’ll say when I see her. My eyes flick to the phone in the passenger seat. She won’t answer me. I fucking hope she’s at her place. I don’t want to make a scene at her job, but if she’s not home, that’s where I’m headed next.

I need her to know I didn’t mean it.

Even if she turns me away for good, I won’t leave until she tells me she believes me. I never wanted to hurt her. Not in any way.

It takes forever to get to her apartment, but when I do, I take the stairs two at a time.

The brass numbers on her door stare back at me as I raise my fist and bang against her door. I know she’s home. Her car’s here. My breathing comes in ragged pants and my body heats then cools, the anxiety overwhelming me.

I lean against the door, waiting for her to say something. But there’s nothing.

I bang on the door again and then stop as I hear the knob click and turn. Grace opens the door with the chain lock still engaged and peeks out at me. Her cheeks are red and tearstained, and it rips my heart in half.

“Grace,” her name comes out as a plea. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“You should go, Charlie,” her voice cracks as she talks, but she stays still, staring back at me.

“I need you to hear me out.” She bites her lip and looks away. The only sound I can hear is my heart beating as the silence grows.

“Please just hear me out,” I beg her.

The door closes and I hear her unlock the latch and then open it a good foot to look at me.

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