I’m getting into. These are uncharted waters I’m embarking on, and I’m scared shitless.
The elevator doors close before I step off, and I’m being taken back down to the lobby.
Maybe this is a sign.
When the doors open again, I walk out and over to a bench by the large windows. The people are still moving about outside. The snow is still falling. Nothing has changed, and here I remain even though I’ve been craving change, craving something new. Alec is my new. But I’m not a risk-taker. I’m not someone who walks into a situation blindly.
My stomach churns with monumental anxiety.
Walk out of here. Go home and find your adrenaline rush elsewhere.
Don’t listen to her. Your adrenaline rush is waiting for you on the fifth floor. Go.
He’s not the rush you need. He’s the rush that will annihilate you.
He’s the rush that will awaken you. He might even save you from a life of unfulfilled fantasies.
“What are you doing?”
I turn to Alec who’s sitting on the bench with me. I didn’t even realize how deep in my head I just was to not even sense him sitting next to me.
“Are you okay?”
I nod slowly—nervously.
He takes my one hand in the both of his. “Tell me what you’re afraid of.”
“You,” I respond through the cords of my constricted throat, and when I look at our hands, I notice mine are trembling. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” His voice remains gentle, yet so self-assured. “Do you want to leave?”
Yes.
“No.”
He stands with the slightest hint of a smile while still holding my hand, and as I look into his eyes, I leave my world behind, stand, and walk with him. Alec never lets go of me as we take the elevator up to five, and when the doors open this time, I step off.
“This is me,” he says before opening the door to unit 502.
His cologne faintly lingers in the air as I walk into his loft. I move slowly, allowing my eyes to scan the space, aware that Alec is observing my every move.
“I’m impressed,” I note as I take in the square footage of the fully renovated studio.
The place is completely open with contemporary finishes: dark gray walls, stainless steel fixtures, large windows that naturally light up the whole room. Support beams help to mark off the living, dining, and bedroom areas, which are fully furnished in a minimalistic way. Boston isn’t cheap, and I definitely wasn’t expecting him to have a space like this.
“Don’t be,” he responds, and when I turn to see him still standing by the door, he walks over to me while explaining, “My father bought this loft back in the eighties as an investment property. Got it for dirt cheap and never let it go. Being the generous man he was, he sold it to me for what he originally paid.”
“Who renovated?”
“I did. I used a portion of my inheritance.” I look at him, and he runs his hands over my coat, from my shoulders down to my arms. “I used the project as a way to distract myself after he died.”
I don’t respond as we continue to hold each other’s attention, and the fear I felt down in the lobby is no longer present. This is the magic of Alec; it’s his ability to overpower the entire world and become my sole focus. He’s all I can see, hear, and feel in this moment.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he says.
I reach my hands up and run them along the coarse, dark stubble of his unshaven face. It crackles against my palms before I slightly tug him down to me because all I can think about is the touch of his lips.
His mouth hovers over mine, so close I can taste his cool breath when he says, “Tell me what you want, Victoria.”
“I want you to kiss me.”
With his tongue, he traces my bottom lip slowly, and it takes everything in me not to push up to him and lick his tongue with mine. We watch each other as he does this and then he murmurs over my lips, “Are you on birth control?”
His question nearly hollows my gut. It’s the awakening slap in my face at the reality of this situation and what we’re about to do.
“I have an IUD,” I whisper.
He then gives me what I need and covers my mouth with his in a binding kiss. My hands slide up his face and into his hair, dark with flakes of gray. It’s long enough for