Page 82

I slap my hand over my mouth, cursing myself for the automatic apology. I’d gone almost twelve days without breathing a word to him, only to break the silence with a clumsy slip.

Cullen lightly grips my wrist, pulling it away from my mouth before leaning closer. I’m stuck, not moving even a fraction of an inch. He lets go, moving his hand to the shell of my ear. His fingertip lightly traces the curve before he plucks out the earbud.

The loud squeaks of the train barreling down the track filter in as he closes the distance. That stubble I’d been eyeing brushes against my cheek, causing me to shiver in a way I’m too embarrassed to name. His lips ghost my earlobe, and he speaks the first words I’ve heard from him in days.

“I don’t mind you using me. I like your hands on my body.”

This man.

The beehive that I’d been keeping under control in my stomach has just been kicked. The bees are flying around, buzzing with a hum that is warming my body. All I feel are the flutters as my sense of sanity is shoved to the side.

This is why I’ve been wearing headphones to ignore him.

His silver tongue knows exactly what to say to slip past my defenses.

The train starts to slow as we approach the next station.

“See you tomorrow, Verity.”

Cullen pops my earbud back in, a promising smirk on his lips, before joining the throng of people exiting the train car.

I lean back against the wall, reeling from the last thirty seconds. I would like to say that I gather my wits, that I pick up my scattered senses, but I don’t. Instead, my own name plays on repeat in my mind. It’s so loud that I can hear it over the music playing in my ears.

He said my name like a promise.

He said my name like he wouldn’t let me go.

This was only the start.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CULLEN

“This seems like a bad idea.”

I stroll behind Bridget as she speed walks down the street like a woman on a mission—which she technically is. I would like to say that I’m not sure how I got myself into this situation, except I’m fully aware of why I’m chasing her blindly down the street on a Wednesday afternoon when I should be preparing for an upcoming showing.

“It’s a great idea.”

“It’s borderline stalking.”

“Stalking can be a love language.”

“The police might disagree with that.”

“Just shut up and walk faster. Seriously, your legs are twice as long as mine and I’m wearing three-inch booties.” She glances back at me. “We don’t want to miss her.”

Part of my sister’s grand plan to help me win Verity back was to enlist the aid of Bridget. As the only person without a regular nine-to-five job, she has the spare time. Which is how she was able to sprint into my office at three in the afternoon and demand I drop everything to follow her.

“There it is!”

Bridget points a finger at theToss Itstore at the end of the block.

“And you’re sure this is the right one?”

There are probably thirty different locations of this restaurant around the city. It is one of the most popular go-to lunch spots for working people in the city. You can order ahead with their mobile app, and all their salads and bowls are customizable, no matter what your preferences or food restrictions might be.

“Yes, I’m sure. It’s the one with the closest proximity to her office, and yesterday her story showed the bodega across the street.” Bridget slows her steps, and I fall in line next to her. “She should be here any minute. She posted at three fifteen the last three days, give or take a few minutes.”