Page 108 of Saved By the CEO

His hand moves slowly up my back, fingers tracing along my spine. “I’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs.

My throat tightens.

I wish I could read his mind the way he always seems to read mine. I want to know exactly what he means by that. I search his face like the answer might be written there somewhere.

“I want this, Carly.” His hand comes up to my cheek. “I’ve wanted this for a while now.”

I place my hand over his and turn my face into his palm. “Me too.”

His expression shifts, softening in a way that makes my chest ache. Then he pulls me closer, and I go willingly, tucking myself against him.

Oh.

So this is what happiness feels like.

I callmy mom the second I get home that morning. She picks up just as I’m walking into the bathroom.

“Hi, honey,” she says, sounding way too cheerful for eight in the morning. “Why are you calling so early?”

I open the cabinet above the sink and pull out dry shampoo, deodorant, and moisturizer. I have exactly twenty-six minutes to make myself look like I did not spend the night fucking my boss.

“I have crazy good news,” I say, putting her on speaker and balancing the phone on the edge of the sink. “I got a new job.”

There’s a tiny gasp on the other end. “Oh my god, Carly. That’s amazing.” I hear a door close in the background. “Tell me everything.”

So I do.

I tell her it’s still at BenCo, but on a different floor. Communications. I tell her about the interview and how I was convinced I had ruined it. I tell her the official papers came through a few minutes ago and that the new salary is better.

“It’s going to change things,” I say, rubbing moisturizer into my face. “I’ll be able to help you more. And maybe, if I’m careful, I can start paying off your mortgage. Not all at once, obviously, but soon. I can help for real now.”

There’s a pause.

I frown at my reflection. “Mom?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” she says, her voice soft. “If I did one thing right in this life, it was raising you. You’ve grown into such an intelligent, kind woman.”

I smile down at the sink. “Thanks, Mom.”

“But I don’t need you to do that.”

I sigh. “It’s okay. I want to.”

“I know you do. And I love you for it.” She takes a breath. “But I mean it. I don’t need that kind of help. I actually have some news too.”

My hand stills halfway to my makeup bag.

“What kind of news?”

“I got a new job.”

I stare at myself in the mirror. “You did?”

“I did.” The smile in her voice is impossible to miss. “At the corner bookshop on Main Street. You remember the one, don’t you? Where we used to go sometimes when you were little?”

Of course I remember it.

I remember the bell over the door, the narrow aisles, the children’s section in the back with the faded rug, and Mom letting me pick one used paperback if she had enough tip money left after groceries. I remember sitting cross-legged on the floor while she browsed the romance section.