Slow Burn by Bromberg K

Author:Bromberg, K. [Bromberg, K.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Romance, Contemporary, Adult
ISBN: 9780451473929
Publisher: K. Bromberg
Published: 2015-02-23T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

I lace up my shoes, desperate to get out of the house and away from waiting for the phone to ring, Dr. Blakely calling with blood test and biopsy results that I’ve been informed most likely will take another few days. Regardless, I stare at my phone each time I pass it.

When it does ring, it’s usually Rylee checking up on me, asking why I seem out of sorts, to which I reply I’m just stressed about this Scandalous deal and the impending BRCA1 test results. That answer usually quiets her down, and she comes through with the moral support that I desperately need but for something possibly much more devastating than a gene test result.

Or it’s Cal, checking in with me looking to see what rabbit I’m going to pull out of my hat to make the last event bigger and better than the first two. And despite the fact they went off without a hitch and had a larger draw than he’d ever hoped for in our initial discussions, I’m calling in all kinds of favors. Because I need this rabbit to be huge to make up for the disappearing act I pulled at the last show.

Or rather the one Becks pulled when he hauled me off like Neanderthal man. I’d told the client I’d fallen ill. I didn’t feel guilty because I really didn’t miss much of the event. We were nearing last call for the night, and the clients and A-listers had been taken care of flawlessly, but it did not go unnoticed by Cal that I wasn’t there at closing time. At least I’m not lying since I did find the lump that night, but I don’t think he buys it … so now I’m left to produce magic from a wand that’s lost its power.

I shrug the thought off, knowing I need this run to help me do just that. I grab my phone and, out of habit, glance at the screen.

Out of habit. More like out of a sick obsession to see if the man I keep pushing away is pushing back or if he’s called and I missed it. Or texted. Or smoke-signaled, for Christ’s sake. God, I’m emotionally fucked-up. I push him away, leave him after incredible sex without another word, and have a fight over it? And his comeback is to work me up into a goddamn frenzy over Jell-O shots and his masterful fingertips with a crowd of friends outside. Then he leaves me one rub short of detonation with promises to keep me awake from that ache he created last night but with a dominant threat to prevent me from sating it.

Slow and steady, my ass. The man’s got a side to him that I never knew existed, and now I can’t stop thinking about it. And that pisses me the fuck off because I don’t want to be thinking about him, can’t be thinking about him.

Run.

Like I’m not used to doing that.

I need the exercise to

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