I feel like I have a serious case of whiplash, but I’ll take the win.
Now, I’m sitting at the kitchen island, picking at my cuticles, and waiting for Ainsley to come back.
The garage door opens suddenly, and I jump in my chair.
Ainsley rounds the corner, a dazed look on her face, and I immediately wonder what happened at the meeting. When she looks up, she jolts and throws her hand on her chest.
“Holy shit, Ledger! You scared the shit out of me!”
I scramble out of the chair and walk over to her, hesitating to pull her to me.
“I’m sorry.”
“No, no, it’s fine. I just wasn’t expecting anyone to be home. How did you even get here?” she asks, stunned, before shaking her head slightly and wrapping her arms around my neck.
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay after the meeting. I know it was stressing you out.”
She pulls back, her eyes shifting between mine, before she startles me with a kiss. I sink into it, glad this is her reaction to seeing me and not turning me away.
She pulls away while I’m still dazzled by her kiss. “I can’t believe you’re here. How?”
“You want to come and sit?” I offer before sharing the story.
“Yes. Let me change, and then we can crash on the couch.” She pulls my hand and drags me to what I assume is the guest room, and I sit on the bed as she strips out of the pantsuit she wore in Vegas.
Memories flood through me, and my cock hardens before I have any control. An article of clothing flies at my face and I reach up my hand to pull it down, and the smirk on Ainsley’s face has me feeling playful.
My heart thunders in my chest because she looks happy. So fucking happy, and I just hope she brings me along for the ride.God, I need her to bring me along.
“It seems like the meeting went okay,” I observe, needing to hear everything that happened.
“Nope, you first. Then, we’ll talk about my day.” She pulls on a pair of lounge shorts and a tank top, then bounces on the bed next to me.
I shift and scoot back so we’re both sitting against the headboard.
“I broke into your house.” I cringe at my lack of a filter or capability to tell a story correctly.
She bursts out laughing.
“Technically, I used your spare key and let myself in. Then I jumped onto your gaming system, hoping Gavin was online.”
“That’s very crafty of you.”
“I was a desperate man,” I concede. “I got lucky, because he was online, and managed to get the information out of him and Larkin.” I’m not sure I want to get into the whole embarrassing saga of a thirteen-year-old treating me like a predatory online threat, even if I was proud of him for doing it.
“Oh, I’ll be getting that full story out of you later. But first, tell me why you came.”
The way we left things, I don’t blame her for asking. I was nervous as hell the entire drive here that I was making a mistake and that she would push me away further, but I didn’t care because deep in the recesses of my brain, I need to be here for her. I need to show her through better or worse, I will always be here for her.
“It’s simple.” I shrug. “I love you, and I need to support you. I knew this meeting wasn’t going to be easy, no matter the outcome, and I didn’t want you to feel forgotten and unimportant.”
She stares at me with her eyes clouded with tears.
“I’ve had a lot of revelations in the last day, and I have a lot to tell you.”
“Lucky for you, I have a lot of time.” I wink.
“Lucky for you that you’re the boss and make your own schedule,” she counters.
