Say Nothing... (The Speak Series Book 2) (21 page)

"When do you leave?" There's no question he's going. You don't get this opportunity twice, and I may not be happy about it, but I'm not that girl. I refuse to make him choose between me and London. I'll pull up my big girl panties and suck it up.

"I could tell them no. He told me to sleep on it. He can't make me go."

I step away from the counter and close the distance between us. When I get within reach, he wraps his arms around my waist and moves me between his legs. He rests his forehead on my belly and releases a heavy sigh.

"Look at me." He tilts his chin up, meeting my eyes. "I'm fine. I told you before I would never stand in the way of you going. This is an awesome opportunity, and I want you to take it," I say cradling his face.

"They want me to leave Friday." I stop breathing; the air feels like it has literally been punched out of me.
Four days
.

"Are you sure?" he asks, pulling me onto his lap. I nod, still unable to form words.

"We'll Skype or FaceTime every day. It's only four weeks. With your office move and workload, it'll go by in no time, right?" His face is hopeful.

"You're right." I kiss his cheek and give him a weak smile. "I'm gonna take a quick shower." I move from his lap and rush toward the hall.

"I love you," he says before I can walk away.

"I love you too." I disappear into the bathroom and lock the door behind me. Stripping out of my clothes, I stand under the spray of water and allow the tears to fall.

Fuck.
I knew the minute I opened the door and saw her panicked face that bringing this shit up tonight was going to be a bad idea. She's hiding something else from me. I could feel it, but I just can't figure out what it is or why? Maybe having some distance between us will be a good thing. Maybe it'll give her time to work through what's bothering her.

Who am I kidding? Being away from her even just the one week we broke up gutted me. How I'll make it a month is beyond me, but I have no choice. Larry wasn't asking; he was telling me I was going. Telling him no would be a big mistake. Ari's right; opportunities like this don't happen twice.

I move down the hall to check on her. The door is locked, so I press my ear to it and hear her sobs. The sound breaks my heart; I move back into the living room and keep myself occupied until she's done.

The door to the bathroom finally opens. I give her a few minutes to change and use the time to check the locks and turn off the lights. The smell of her bodywash fills the hallway making me more anxious to get to her. She's pulling her tank over her head as I enter the room. Her red-rimmed eyes meet mine, and I'm done. I bring her into my arms, and she begins to cry. "I'm sorry," I whisper. She hugs me tighter.

"No, I'm sorry. This should be a happy day for you, and I'm ruining it by being a big baby. I'm happy for you, I am. I'm just going to miss you," she says wiping her eyes.

"I'm going to miss you too, babe. More than you'll ever know." I tilt her head placing a soft kiss on her lips.

It's been a long day, and I want nothing more than to lay with her in my arms.

"Lay with me." She shuts off the light while I strip off my shirt and crawl under the covers. I lie on my back, and she curls up next to me.

The urge to beg him to stay is so strong I have to bite on my bottom lip to keep from speaking. He's torn about going, and I'm not making this decision any easier. I squeeze him a little tighter.

"I promise I’ll be a phone call away. I don't care what time it is. You hear me?" he says.

"Okay," I whisper, allowing one more tear to stream down my cheek.

He runs his fingers up and down my back, and I relax into his touch. We don't speak; we just hold each other and let the reality of how long we'll be without each other sink in. My face is pressed into his neck; taking deep breaths, the scent of his skin begins to slow my racing heart. The steady strum of his touch against my skin lulls me to sleep.

I’m sitting in front of a large piano my trembling hands hover over the keys. The room is black with only a spotlight shining on me. I'm not alone. I can feel his eyes on me. “Play for me, sweet girl.” His voice echoes from somewhere in the darkness. My eyes concentrate on the keys; I’m too afraid to seek him out in the recesses of the room. My fingers rest gently on the keys, and I begin to play Beethoven's “Midnight Sonata.” With my eyes tightly shut, I concentrate on the sound of the music and the placement of my hands on the keys, every stroke blocking out the panic and fear that he's close . . . watching. My skin begins to tingle,
my senses attuned to his proximity. His breath a whisper against my skin. “Beautiful.”

I shoot up into a sitting position; sweat dots my forehead, and my hand presses firmly against my chest as I struggle to catch my breath. I turn to Ben, and thankfully, he is still asleep. I quietly grab my journal off the nightstand, slide out of bed, and make my way to the bathroom to jot down what I can remember. The clock reads 4:30
A.M.

Dr. Stone wants me to write down what I remember and what happened during the day that may have triggered an episode. That's easy; my hand moves quickly across the pages. My mind is moving faster than I'm able to write. The thoughts pour out of me in a rush, and it actually feels better to purge it. I clutch the notebook to my chest and quietly head back to bed. Opening the bathroom door, I run into Ben. "Oh, shit." I gasp.

His hair is perfectly mussed as he stands sleepily in the doorway.

"Sorry," he says bracing my shoulders. "I reached out for you, and you weren't in bed. What are you doing up? We have at least another hour of sleep." He looks at the notebook then back at me. His eyes begin to focus a little as realization hits.

"Was it bad? Why didn't you wake me?" he asks as he rubs a hand over his face.

"I'm okay, and I was glad that I didn't scare the shit out of you this time." I smirk. "This helped actually," I say waving the notebook.

He leans in and presses a kiss to my lips. "Come back to bed."

We crawl into bed; I lie back, and she wraps herself around me, her cheek pressed over my heart. I rake my fingers through her hair and her breathing begins to slow; after a while, her body becomes lax. The thought that the news of me leaving might have triggered this nightmare causes my chest to ache.

I close my eyes and pull her in tighter; the guilt that I won't be here if she has another one almost suffocates me. Giving up on sleep, I watch through the small crack in the blinds as the sun begins to rise. Feeling a bit restless, I kiss the top of her head and gently slide my arm out from under her.

Standing under the spray of the shower, my mind continues with its racing thoughts.
Why am I doing this?
Larry is insistent that this will help open doors later; something to add to my resume. He's right, and five months ago, I wouldn't have thought twice about jumping on a plane. The timing just feels off now. She needs me, although she may be too stubborn to admit it. The truth is I feel like I can't breathe when she's away from me, and the next four weeks are going to be hell. My only hope is that the caseload is intense, and I'm so busy that the days will fly by.

I slip a towel around my waist and head back into the bedroom to wake her. She's kicked the covers off the bed, and without the warmth of my body, her skin has broken out in goosebumps. The morning chill has her curled up in a ball. I love to watch her sleep; she looks so peaceful. The thought of being late always increases her anxiety; I turned off the alarms deciding to let her sleep in a little. I'm cutting it close now, so I lean in and pepper kisses on her bare shoulder to wake her. She does nothing at first then begins to lean into the kisses.

"Hmm . . .” She moans. "What time is it?"

"Six thirty,” I answer, waiting for her panicked reaction.

"Shit,” she says sitting up. "Why didn't the alarm go off?" She checks her phone and slides out of bed looking a little crazed. I watch as she turns like a dog chasing its tail for a minute, her mind trying to figure out what to do first.

"You had a rough night, so I thought I'd let you sleep a little. You'll be fine. Just get ready and I'll get your coffee."

She races into the kitchen thirty minutes later dressed in jeans and her Converse. Her hair piled high on top of her head.

"Did you call out?" I ask confused.

Grabbing her travel mug out of my hand, she grabs me by the suit jacket and presses a kiss to my lips. She hums in appreciation.

"Hot damn, you look fine in a suit," she says smacking my ass. "To answer your question, no, I didn't call in sick. I’ll be spending the day moving boxes over to the new office. So I dressed appropriately."

I don't have to be in until nine today, so we are able to leave together.

"Are you ready? I'll walk out with you." She nods grabbing her purse, and I lock the door behind us.

I watch as Ben locks the door to my apartment. How he manages to make something as simple as locking a door look hot is beyond me. My eyes are trained on his ass when I hear him clear his throat. I look up to meet his eyes, and he's grinning at me.

"What?" I ask innocently. I've been caught ogling him again; I can't help it, I'm a sucker for a hot man in a suit.

He shakes his head and closes the distance between us. Wrapping an arm around my waist, he pulls me to his chest and gives me a quick kiss.

"I see you're feeling better." His husky voice makes me melt.

"Yeah, well, you looking all sexified has once again distracted me from any other thoughts."

"I’m glad I could be of service." He checks the time on his cell. "But we gotta go. Call you later." He swats my ass as he walks away making me yelp.