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He disconnects the call, leaving me a little shell-shocked. Looking across the street, I find the man with his hand back in his pocket, stepping out of my sight. It's subtle, almost as if he meant for me to see him put his hands in his pockets to put me at ease, and it sends a deeper chill through me. It rings so false, and I would bet my life that he’s dangerous, hands hidden away or not.
What if whoever has this information doesn't only want me gone? What if they want me dead?
A car finally rounds the corner, and the sign in the window tells me it's my Uber. The driver slows, beckoning to me, and the driver's window slides down as he shouts angrily, "Let's go, girl! Hurry up!"
Then, the door to the office building slams open, and Brian is there, shirtless and in nothing but a pair of silk pajama pants. He's running toward me, and he has his cell phone in one hand. I feel faint.
"Go into the foyer," he tells me, squeezing my shoulder as he passes by me. "I'll pay the cab and send them on their way. You're coming up with me."
I don't have time to protest because he's already crossing the street, and he's giving the annoyed driver his credit card. Brian crosses back over to the sidewalk, heading right toward me.
"You are in so much trouble," he threatens, though his face gives away his concern.
"For locking myself out?" I reply faintly, holding onto him as he tows me back into the building. My face hurts from trying not to cry.
Brian punches the elevator button, turning to cup my face. "You know what I mean, Blair. For staying late and leaving alone. But that's a discussion for later."
We stand side by side in the elevator, and Brian is all business as he types out some text messages as we ascend to his penthouse apartment.
"Brian," I say weakly, gripping his arm in my hands. "There was a man."
"I saw him," Brian growls. "He got in a car across the street. I called a friend from work to find out what they could do about tracking his location."
The elevator dings on the top floor, and Brian lets me out, pressing the button to lock the elevator and keep anyone else from getting on. "Tomorrow I'll take you to your place so you can pack your things. Enough for a week. You're staying with me."
I freeze in his doorway, shaking my head. "No, no, that's too much. You can't. I have my own place. You're my boss."
At first, he laughs. "Blair, when has that stopped us before?" Brian pauses, running a hand through his hair and looking at me pensively, one hand on the door. "Think carefully, Blair. I have security, and here you're safe. You will not win this argument. I won’t compromise your safety ever.”
My chest rises and falls, and I stay rooted to the spot, my feet feeling like they've taken root in the ground. What he’s saying is true.
He’s my only safety. That much I'm sure of. And I know he’s never going to hurt me. He’s bossy and a little demanding, but the safest place for me is right beside him.
"Okay," I say weakly, walking through the doors and following Brian into his luxurious apartment, dropping my hoodie on the floor. For a moment, I'm so weary that I think I might collapse then and there, but Brian stops, picking up my discarded hoodie and draping it over one of his chairs. "Can I get you a drink, Blair? You look shaken."
All the adrenaline I had has drained right out of me, and when he moves to stand in front of me, blocking my view of the large city beyond the glass, I go up on my tiptoes, looping my arms around his neck. I rest my forehead on his chest. "Yes, please."
His big hands wrap around my waist, slipping down to hold me by my hips. "What else baby? We're going to discuss your misbehavior tomorrow. For now, I just want to make you comfortable."
I nibble my bottom lip, thinking, when he adds, "There's a hot tub on the terrace."
Oh. Oh, that does sound nice.
Nodding, I mumble, "The hot tub sounds good."
Brian scoops me right up into his arms, carrying me like a bride over his threshold out onto the penthouse terrace. Even though it's chilly and the terrace is bare save for the bubbling hot tub and some towels sitting beside it, I don't feel a shiver. Because this is so secluded.
I'm safe. I'm out of the cold. I'm in Brian's arms, where no one else could ever touch me.
"Obviously, I don't have a suit," I tell him, cheeks burning.
"I wouldn't let you wear it anyway," he rumbles, already stripping out of his own clothes. "Don't worry. I'll be just as bare as you, baby."
It's dark, and I can barely see his body, but the fact that he really is going to be naked makes me break out in a cold sweat. I want this man. I have ever since the very moment I laid eyes on him, and it's finally starting to be impossible to stop my longing when I watch him shrug his pajama pants off.
Brian cuts such a handsome silhouette even in the dark when I can't see him clearly.
He’s already seen me naked, so it shouldn’t matter if he sees some shadowed version of me here on the terrace, but it does. This is all so new to me, and it gets to me so strongly that I can hear my pulse pounding in my ears as I slip everything off, piece by piece.
