When he stopped talking, I turned my head and drew in a slow, deep breath, taking him in, my nose brushing his skin, knowing, the day I died, my last thought, my last feeling, the last scent I’d experience was going to be the memory of that breath.

Drawing in what I wanted but could never have.

Drawing in Nick Sebring.

Drawing in a Nick Sebring who’d just told me that man who I could trust who would think I was his everything was not nor ever would be him.

Then I whispered, “Sebring, please get off of me.”

It felt like I took more of his weight, like his powerful body slumped in defeat, right before he got off me.

And unfortunately, so gently to the point it was tenderly, he helped extricate me from the sheets and put me on my feet.

I got dressed. He did too so we could dance our dance, one neither of us enjoyed, one neither of us had the strength to stop.

In other words, so he could walk me to my car.

We stood at my driver’s side door and I wanted a hard, rough kiss to remind me of what we were.

But I knew I wouldn’t get it.

I didn’t.

Instead, he lifted both his hands to cup my face and got deep in my space.

“You’ll be back tomorrow night?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I answered.

“Yeah,” he whispered like it hurt to say.

“You do know, Sebring, that you should also be fucking a woman who can give you more than me,” I pointed out.

He’d already shattered my world.

But that was when he destroyed me.

“Funny how I can’t for the life of me figure out what that more would be.”

Slowly, I closed my eyes.

I felt him shift before I felt his lips touch my forehead.

I opened my eyes.

“Tomorrow night, Olivia.”

I nodded.

He let me go and stepped away.

I got in my car and only glanced at him briefly to lift my chin before I drove away.

For once, I didn’t look in my rearview.

But I made sure I was well away when I allowed myself to pull over and dissolve into tears.

The only thing I had, the only thing that gave me the strength to sort myself out, get back on the road, get home, get to bed and keep breathing was I knew.

I knew I had something to look forward to.

I knew I’d be with Nick the way I could have him and the way he could have me the next evening.

Only a few hours away.

Only a few hours.

And I’d again have Nick.

* * * * *

Nick

Nick stood at the top of his steps and watched the dark streets until he couldn’t see the back lights of Olivia’s Range Rover anymore.

Only then did he go into his unit.

He slid the door closed behind him and bolted it.

He stared at his place.

It was a great place. He liked it. He’d worked hard for it. He’d earned everything in there.

Gone were the days he tried to find the easy way, living under the shadow of Knight, deciding, since he could never beat his brother he might as well use him to get the good things in life.

Now they were his but only because he made it that way. He’d worked hard. He’d done it.

So yeah, he liked his place. He liked his car. He liked his clothes.

He had it all and he liked it all.

He had it all.

The look on Olivia’s face after he offered his deal blistered his brain.

Fuck, he did not have it all.

And Olivia Shade was not a mystery.

With the time they’d spent together, he now knew so down deep it was the fucking air he breathed that Olivia Shade was something of exquisite beauty not allowed to be what she needed to be.

Beauty bound.

She was not a ghost who could be seen.

She was a hostage in a lavish cage.

Like how she got her scar, he could not know this with any certainty since he could never ask because she’d never tell.

He still knew it right to his balls.

It was not his job to set her free.

It had nothing to do with him.

She was not his end game.

He had to let her be.

He had to end it with her and find another way.

He had the power to save her from one ugly thing that infected her life.

And he was going to save her from that.

He was going to save her from Nick Sebring.

Chapter Fourteen

Habit

Olivia

5:12 p.m. – The Next Day

I stared at my phone.

I was at David’s office, now my office, working, trying to catch up. Until I shifted it to Georgia I was still buried under two jobs.

I wasn’t thinking about work.

Normally by now, Nick had texted me. Told me when I was free to come over. Usually sometime around six and usually including telling me what he was going to be cooking.

No text.

I waited. I worked. I worried.

I went home at close to seven and still there was nothing from Nick.

I made myself a big salad, ate it all alone in my huge kitchen, and close to nine, texted, Are you okay?

I eventually went to bed.

It was the first night in three weeks I’d hit my bed without first hitting Nick’s so Nick could hit me.

I tossed and turned all night, my phone by my bed.

Dawn came.

And from Nick, there was nothing.

* * * * *

8:36 p.m. – Three Days Later

I knocked at Nick’s door.

The Jag was there. The huge windows that, on the stairs, in his recessed entryway or even from the street I could not see into, were lit, the soft glow from the bedroom, a brighter glow from the living room.