Free Montaine by Ada Rome

people
too.”
    His voice trailed off. We
drove in silence, past the blinking lights of the docks and the smooth sheen of
the midnight river. Manhattan sparkled in the distance like a wonderland of
star-pricked castles.
    After crossing the bridge
and winding through a maze of streets on the Lower East Side, Trent stopped the
car in front of a high-rise building with a forbidding iron-gray front.
    “Home sweet home,” he
said.
    I swallowed nervously.
The car engine purred. The faint city sounds of distant sirens and snatches of
half-heard conversations drifted through the open windows.
    “Unless…” he paused and
continued, “you want me to take you back to your dorm?”
    “No.” I smiled
sheepishly. “No, I’d like to come in. Just for a bit.” I tried to sound casual,
like this sort of thing happened to me every day. Like I was used to being
invited into the homes of hot, rich, and famous men. This was most definitely
new territory for me.
    “Just for a bit then.” He
smiled mysteriously.

Chapter 7
     
    “Something to drink? I
have water, milk, orange juice, vodka.”
    Trent peered into the
contents of his open refrigerator. I swiveled my head in amazement at the sumptuous
grandeur of his apartment. The floor-to-ceiling windows provided a stunning
view of the Manhattan skyline, the ever-flickering lights of the nighttime city
suggestive of the pulsing life within.
    One room flowed smoothly
into another, the spacious kitchen giving way to a living room furnished with plush
rugs and luxurious leather couches. A dark archway gave a hint of an expansive
bedroom at the far end. The color scheme was subdued and tasteful, dominated by
gray, slate blue, and deep indigo hues.
    “Water is fine. Your
place is amazing, by the way.”
    “Yeah, it’s alright.” He
poured a glass of water and handed it to me.
    I perched on one of the
black leather barstools and glanced around at the sprawling and elegant space.
I noticed a curving metal staircase next to the bank of windows.
    “Where do those stairs
go?”
    “To the roof. Great place
to watch the sunrise. Maybe I’ll show it to you sometime.” He unbuttoned and
removed his shirt, gritting his teeth through the pain. He rummaged in the
freezer and retrieved an ice pack, plopping it with a smack onto the granite
counter.
    “Do you need any help?”
    “I could use some help
wrapping this, actually. There’s a bandage roll in my duffel. Bring it over
here.”
    I did as instructed. He
pressed the ice pack to the sore patch on his ribs. A purplish bruise was
already forming. I stood before him, uncertain where to begin. I unrolled the
bandage and began tentatively winding it around his torso, my arms encircling his
waist as his warm breath skated over the top of my head. My cheek brushed
against the firm skin of his chest. To my surprise, in that brief instant of
contact, I felt his heart pounding as hard and fast as my own.
    “Thank you,” he said softly
when I had finished.
    He ran his fingertips
along my hairline and caressed the side of my face from my temple to the tip of
my chin. I closed my eyes, relishing the soothing sensation of his touch. Hands
that I’d earlier seen punching with a furious violence now radiated a tender
warmth. I held my breath, unwilling to make any move that might destroy this
perfect moment.
    He gently gripped my
shoulders and took a step backwards. He shook his head and cleared his throat.
“Kat, I can’t ---”
    His hesitation plunged me
back into reality. He’s my boss. There are too many complications.
    “I know. I understand.”
My voice was raw and trembling.
    “It’s just…there are
things that you don’t know about me. There are reasons that I can’t do this…with
you.”
    “I get it. You don’t have
to explain.” I steadied my voice, trying for a certainty that I did not feel.
My brain spun through all of the sane and sensible arguments telling me that I
should walk away before things went any further. But the pull