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I fill my hand with shampoo and, eyes closed, start washing my hair—focusing on this small chore to control the rush of emotions that fills every cell of my body.
I sense him approaching, but I don’t open my eyes, not even when his hands replace mine, massaging my scalp. I don’t know how long he spends washing me, but even once I’m rinsed clean, he keeps holding me under the water, now facing him.
“Stay,” he says again, softly, right by my ear.
“We’ll just make things complicated.”
“I’m not afraid of complications.”
I open my eyes and stare at him. “You hate complications. You made that clear from the start.”
“Stay.”
“You want me to stay because you need control.”
“I’ve never denied that.”
“You want to have the power to decide when you’ve had your fill of me,” I say, carefully keeping any emotion out of my voice, “but I’ll never let you be the only one to decide when we’re done. I might not have relationship experience, but I’m observant, William. I’ll walk away at the first sign you can’t keep giving me what I want.”
“What do you want?”
“To keep feeling the way I do right now.” I take his hand and place it over my heart. “Feel how fast it’s racing? You did that. The moment I can be by your side and not feel this, I’ll know we’ve reached the end.”
Taylor
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“I don’t needto ask you how your weekend went, do I? Judging by that silly grin you’ve been wearing since you got here, your hottie turned out to be a prince, not a frog,” Jackie remarks, a few hours into my shift at the bar.
I have no idea how I managed to act normal with Mrs. Marshall today, after spending the entire weekend with her grandson. I’d die of embarrassment if my boss found out.
“He’s not exactly a prince, but it was way more than I expected.”
“My suspicion is confirmed, Taylor. You really have fallen for the doctor.”
“How could I avoid it, Jackie? William is everything a woman could dream of.”
“Once it’s happened, there’s no going back. Now it looks like you’re completely wrapped up in him. The time to run away has passed. But I disagree with something you said: for him to be everything a woman could dream of, he’d have to want commitment, which clearly isn’t the case.”
“Who’s the smart guy who doesn’t want commitment?” Todd cuts in, souring my mood instantly.
Ever since I got here, he’s been making snide comments about me saying I was tired on Friday—yet went clubbing with Jackie. When I asked him how he knew, he said he overheard me telling the cook we went dancing. His answer only cemented the fact that he’s seriously unhinged.
I’ve kept my distance all day, not caring if I come off as rude, promising myself that if he keeps harassing me, I won’t just go to the manager—I’ll go straight to the bar’s owner.
But my plan went up in smoke half an hour ago, when I caught him fooling around with our boss in a back room.
God, the last thing I need is this creep becoming our manager by doing “overtime” with the bar’s owner.
“It’s none of your business,” I reply, making no effort to hide my dislike. Jackie’s eyebrows shoot up so high they nearly touch her hairline.
He plants himself between us, his back to her, his face just a few inches from mine. “You got a real attitude overnight, Taylor. What’s behind this change?”
“I tried to be nice to you, but if you can’t grasp that I’m not interested, I have no choice but to clear things up.”
“And you think I’m interested in you?” He gives me a once-over. “I don’t go out with sluts, redhead.”
I stare at him, too stunned to speak for a moment, but my anger quickly rises.