Page 107 of Mr. Edwards

She maneuvers the bag behind her back and this time I grin. “It’s mine, you can’t have it.”

Now we’re getting somewhere. I didn’t bring the dessert here as a bargaining tool, I brought it because I know how much she loves it, but I’m not about to let this opportunity pass.

I take a step toward her, and she sighs in defeat. “You can keep it on one condition.”

“Fine, you can do one glass.”

“Four.”

“Two.”

“Three,” I counter, extending my arm towards her. “And you can keep the tiramisu.”

“Deal,” she grumbles, ignoring my outstretched hand.

She abruptly turns and marches away. “See you Saturday morning, sunshine,” I call out to her retreating back with a smile. The motherfucker is so big I’m surprised my face doesn’t split in two.

Her eyes narrow as she glances over her shoulder. Her surly attitude doesn’t bother me in the slightest, it actually gives me a slight chub. She’s only fighting me so hard because she’s scared. What she fails to realize is, I broke down her walls once, and I’ll damn well do it again.

Chapter 24

Carlee

My hands are trembling as I stomp up the stairs toward the apartment like a brat. I’m torn. I don’t know if I want to cry, scream or rejoice.

He’s here.

I’m struggling to comprehend it. How did he find me after all this time? More importantly, why did he come? The last time I saw him he slammed the door in my face. What’s changed?

The last thing I wanted to do was send him away, but the desperate part of me—the one who knows the truth—needed to reinforce the reasons why he couldn’t stay. The bigger part, however, the one consumed with longing, wanted to hold on tight and never let go. But sadly, the consequences of that are too dire.

I pause when I get to the top of the landing and take a few shaky breaths. I think I’m on the verge of having a heart attack. I rub the heel of my palm over the stabbing pain in my chest. The initial shock is wearing off and the reality of what this means is starting to set in.Shit. This is bad.

What the hell was Reece thinking agreeing to this? He has no clue of the devastation this decision can bring. And I virtually just sealed Grayson’s fate by agreeing to let him attend my class, all because my greedy mouth salivated over a damn dessert. I want to kick my own ass.

I’m scared shitless that the last two and a half years of suffering have been for nothing. That the people I’ve been protecting all along are no longer safe. Has all this heartache been for nothing?

I enter the apartment and head straight toward the kitchen. Tossing the bag on the counter, I slump onto the barstool and bury my face in my hands. I need to come up with a strategy and fast.

Grayson’s coming back on Saturday, and there’s nothing I can do to change that now… one day shouldn’t be a problem, right? What are the chances of anyone finding out he’s here? I may have agreed to three lessons, but somehow, I need to find a way to keep him from returning.

I’m not sure how I’m going to do that. The last thing I want to do is hurt him any more than I already have, but he’s left me with no choice.

My mind scrambles with endless possibilities, but I know Grayson is determined, I saw it in his face just now. This is not going to be easy. If he only knew how badly I wanted him, how hard it’s been to stay away, or the reasons why, he’d understand. I can’t tell him though, I know that. The fallout from knowing the truth will be catastrophic. It will not only ruin him but also the people he cares about.

Opening the bag in front of me, I lean forward and peer inside. I’ve been craving this cake ever since I returned to Temecula. I can smell the delicious, sweetcoffee aroma through the box. Any other time I’d be already scarfing into this beauty, but my insides are too churned up to even think of eating.

Despite that, I still flip the lid and inhale deeply through my nose, that’s when I notice something shiny lying beside the cake. It’s a fork. Does he think I don’t own cutlery? I may be a little rough around the edges at times, but I’m not a barbarian.

I lift it out of the box and see writing engraved just above the four prongs. ‘I forking love you,’ it says. My breath hitches as I hug the piece of metal to my chest like the lovesick fool I am.

Goddamn him.

The fork is still clutched against my body when the door to our apartment opens and Reece enters. I drop the offending piece of cutlery on the countertop and swing around in my chair. Reece raises an eyebrow the moment he notices the stink eye I’m sending his way.

“I passed Grayson just now,” he says, all smug-like. “I take it from that look on your face you saw him as well?”

“Don’t say his name… I hate him,” I lie.