Page 91 of With This Kiss
He drove into the underground garage of his apartment building and pulled into his assigned spot. I looked at his parking number, 1125, not really moving. He shut the engine off before turning to me.
“Should we go up?”
I didn’t have a lot of options, did I?
I had no wallet, no shoes, no jacket, and no phone.
I didn’t want to go back to my apartment—I couldn’t. And I couldn’t call Caine or Dad because Caine was working with the Mahankov, and I had a feeling Dad didn’t know.
What the fuck was going on?
I wanted to scream.
Instead, I mutely nodded and opened the door, getting out. Reign was there beside me before I could take another step. In his hand was one of his jackets he must have taken from his car because he hadn’t been wearing one tonight, despite the cold temperature.
I let him wrap it around me, and I didn’t protest when he lifted me up into his arms.
“I can walk, you know,” I said.
His eyes moved down my legs, stopping at my feet. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”
I blinked, looking away from him when I felt my eyes burn. He still sounded the same.
Still the same man I was finding myself falling for. I didn’t look at him again on our way up to his building. I realized while we were on the elevator that this would be my first time at his place.
How strange.
It felt like I had known him for a long time now, but really, that wasn’t the case at all.
How could that be?
He set me down on the couch once we got inside the apartment, and I looked around his place. It carried the same professional decorating scheme as my place.
We really were two sides of the same coin.
Both of our families were made men from two of the biggest crime organizations on the East Coast. Perhaps that had taught us not to make any sort of personal attachment to material things, like our apartments.
My heart ached.
And I was hit with a yearning so strong just for a home.
Not a place to stay in or to sleep in, but a home.
I rubbed my chest, something that Reign didn’t miss.
He bent down in front of me, bracing his hands on either side of my legs. He looked so earnest when he asked, “Are you feeling okay? Did that fucker hurt you?”
His hands started to roam over my body, as if looking for any injuries I might have. I shook my head and took a half step back. “No. He…”
My jaw was still sore from where he hit me to knock me out, but besides that and a few bruises I got when they carried me up to the upper level of that warehouse, I wasn’t hurt.
“You came just in time.”
His eyes assessed me, as if he was trying to figure out if I was lying or not.
“When did you know?” I asked him, not wanting to spend any more time on my imaginary injuries.
His deep ocean-blue eyes took me in, and for a moment, I felt like I could just get lost in them and that would be okay.
