Page 95
Story: The Heiress's First Date
There’s a slight shake of his head.
Which is probably good because software is really more my speed.
I step closer, right into his space. Toe to toe, he has to tip his chin up ever so slightly. His eyes widen the tiniest bit as if he’s surprised by my sudden nearness.
The space is oddly quiet and somehow loud at the same time. Our breathing is amplified. And I swear I can hear my heartbeat thrumming through my veins.
I reach for his hand, his arm is dead weight, and press his palm against my chest. “Breathe with me.”
I take a deep breath, my chest expanding beneath his fingertips. His eyelids shutter, and he follows my lead. In and out. One slow, steady breath after another.
“That’s it.”
We stand, still and silent, little sounds from the building crowding in. Breathing in and out, together. Slowly, it must be a full minute, if not two, before his shoulders begin to relax and are no longer tucked up around his ears like a turtle. His hand softens beneath mine, even pressing tighter to my chest, as if he relishes and needs the connection.
It’s hard to wrap my brain around. From the moment Kingston strode across Pierce Montgomery’s back patio, locking lips with Katherine, I’ve seen his innate confidence. He carries himself like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
But I guess we all have our secrets and hangups.
“Thanks,” he murmurs, his voice low, softer than I’ve ever heard before.
And wrecked. Absolutely wrecked.
I’m reminded of the boy I was when I left home. Of who I was when I first met Alex. I would never want anyone to feel like that. Like a shell of a person.
“You’ve got this. Let me try the call button again.”
This time, someone answers. The deep voice fills the car, telling us to sit tight.
I start to ask for details, but the connection is severed. The single overhead light goes out.
King’s sharp inhale is loud, echoing off the metal panels.
“Talk to me,” I say into the dark. It’s pitch black now. I use my free hand to turn on the flashlight on my phone.
“Can’t,” he stammers.
“I don’t believe that. You climb light poles with your bare hands and jump across alleyways like you’re Spider-Man.”
He gives a little huff.
“Do you remember the first time you met Katherine?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
“Me too. She had me at a total disadvantage.”
He doesn’t say anything, but I can feel his tension rising again. His shoulders lifting, muscles tensing.
I type a quick message to the head of my security detail and also my housekeeper. Someone must know what’s going on.
Letting going of King’s hand, I cup his shoulder, massaging the stiffness away. He trembles like a frightened bunny, and I hate that he’s so scared. I’ve never given the elevator a second thought, but seeing this and feeling his anxiety, I realize just how much he loves Katherine.
No one who has this much trepidation over elevators would willingly put themselves through this multiple times a day for anyone they didn’t absolutely adore.
I send another text, this time to my assistant, then return my attention to the panicked man shaking beneath my palm.
“She has this wild ability to see the bigger picture,” I say. “Like a chessboard. All the pieces. All the possible moves. And then I open my mouth and she proves to me why I’m wrong. It’s fucking amazing. That first day in the Winter-Farmington boardroom, I thought she was a tiger. Forget the fucking Wolf of Wall Street. She was all of twenty-two and sharp as a samurai sword.”
Which is probably good because software is really more my speed.
I step closer, right into his space. Toe to toe, he has to tip his chin up ever so slightly. His eyes widen the tiniest bit as if he’s surprised by my sudden nearness.
The space is oddly quiet and somehow loud at the same time. Our breathing is amplified. And I swear I can hear my heartbeat thrumming through my veins.
I reach for his hand, his arm is dead weight, and press his palm against my chest. “Breathe with me.”
I take a deep breath, my chest expanding beneath his fingertips. His eyelids shutter, and he follows my lead. In and out. One slow, steady breath after another.
“That’s it.”
We stand, still and silent, little sounds from the building crowding in. Breathing in and out, together. Slowly, it must be a full minute, if not two, before his shoulders begin to relax and are no longer tucked up around his ears like a turtle. His hand softens beneath mine, even pressing tighter to my chest, as if he relishes and needs the connection.
It’s hard to wrap my brain around. From the moment Kingston strode across Pierce Montgomery’s back patio, locking lips with Katherine, I’ve seen his innate confidence. He carries himself like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
But I guess we all have our secrets and hangups.
“Thanks,” he murmurs, his voice low, softer than I’ve ever heard before.
And wrecked. Absolutely wrecked.
I’m reminded of the boy I was when I left home. Of who I was when I first met Alex. I would never want anyone to feel like that. Like a shell of a person.
“You’ve got this. Let me try the call button again.”
This time, someone answers. The deep voice fills the car, telling us to sit tight.
I start to ask for details, but the connection is severed. The single overhead light goes out.
King’s sharp inhale is loud, echoing off the metal panels.
“Talk to me,” I say into the dark. It’s pitch black now. I use my free hand to turn on the flashlight on my phone.
“Can’t,” he stammers.
“I don’t believe that. You climb light poles with your bare hands and jump across alleyways like you’re Spider-Man.”
He gives a little huff.
“Do you remember the first time you met Katherine?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
“Me too. She had me at a total disadvantage.”
He doesn’t say anything, but I can feel his tension rising again. His shoulders lifting, muscles tensing.
I type a quick message to the head of my security detail and also my housekeeper. Someone must know what’s going on.
Letting going of King’s hand, I cup his shoulder, massaging the stiffness away. He trembles like a frightened bunny, and I hate that he’s so scared. I’ve never given the elevator a second thought, but seeing this and feeling his anxiety, I realize just how much he loves Katherine.
No one who has this much trepidation over elevators would willingly put themselves through this multiple times a day for anyone they didn’t absolutely adore.
I send another text, this time to my assistant, then return my attention to the panicked man shaking beneath my palm.
“She has this wild ability to see the bigger picture,” I say. “Like a chessboard. All the pieces. All the possible moves. And then I open my mouth and she proves to me why I’m wrong. It’s fucking amazing. That first day in the Winter-Farmington boardroom, I thought she was a tiger. Forget the fucking Wolf of Wall Street. She was all of twenty-two and sharp as a samurai sword.”
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