Killian (On the Line #1) - Brenda Rothert Page 0,56

college friends, and even though I was busy the whole time, I couldn’t stop thinking about Killian. We’d both been angry the last time we’d seen each other and that was a crappy way to remember someone.

The hot water made me sigh contentedly. Finally, something relaxing. It had been a hellish few days between the travel, firing Nicole and fighting with Killian. I’d been bouncing between tears of fury and sad crying since that fight with Killian. Somehow I’d managed to pull myself together over the past three days and this afternoon, when I got back from New York, I had a video conference call with an investment group.

I knew Killian had left for a road trip right after our fight. But I’d seen the equipment manager unloading stuff at the arena this afternoon, so I knew they’d just gotten home. Not having heard one word from him for three days hurt me more than our fight had.

When I started college, I decided to spare myself the heartache of being an emotional woman. I made a conscious decision to be shrewd and detached about all the big stuff. That approach had served me well in both my business and personal relationships. I always stayed focused on what mattered—my work. Even when I had boyfriends, I never allowed them to get close enough to upset me.

But Killian had shredded me. I’d told myself it was just a physical thing between us, but my aching heart said otherwise. Since our fight, I’d find myself crying at the drop of a hat. What was with that, anyway? Since when had I become a woman who cried over anything, let alone a man? The answer was since Killian, and that unnerved me.

I submerged myself in the water, letting the moisture from the oil soak in to my skin. My hair was piled on top of my head in a messy bun, the back of my neck sweaty from the heat. Though I could’ve easily stayed in the tub for another hour, I pushed down on the drain release and stood up.

I’d relaxed my body and now it was time to relax my mind. I’d curl up in bed with a good book.

Just as I stepped out of the tub and reached for my towel, the chime of the doorbell sounded. I dried off quickly, wrapping my robe around my body. Not that I had any intention of answering the door in this. Who the hell rang someone’s doorbell at 9 PM, anyway?

I glanced at my phone to see if Keri had called to say she was coming by. No missed calls or messages.

Though I had no plans to open the door, I hurried through the living room, leaving wet footprints on the dark wood floor. When I looked through the peephole, my heart pounded at the sight of Killian. He wore a black leather jacket and a tired expression.

I wanted to walk away. I wanted to leave him to wonder where I was. He deserved to hurt at least a little. But my hand reached for the doorknob. Where the hell had he been the past three days? Huntsville, yes, but he still had a phone.

When I opened the door, a cool rush of air came in and I wrapped my arms around myself. Killian stepped in and pushed the door closed. He did a quick once over of my body and then locked his eyes onto mine.

The steely gray was gone. The eyes that had flashed angrily at me now looked tired, empty and sad.

It wasn’t just his eyes though. Killian was rumpled all over. His clothes were wrinkled and his short hair, usually fixed in a neat style, was messy and spiky.

I wanted to shove him and scream at him to get the hell out. But when he reached for me, I reached back. He pulled me against him tightly, his arms wrapping around my back.

I pressed my face against his chest, taking in his leather smell. His solid strength held me upright as I melted, tears coming fast and hard. What was this? An apology or the big breakup? I didn’t know, but just his presence here had me weeping with relief.

He pressed his face into the crook of my neck and squeezed me tighter.

“You’re an asshole,” I said, my voice a croak.

“I know.” There was an apology in his tone.

I took his hand to lead him to the kitchen for a glass of wine, but he surprised me by stopping