Surrender to You Read Online Free Page A

meet your birth parents?”
    She nodded.
    “Is there anything I can do for you?” I tugged on my pants as quickly as I could.
    At the doorway, she paused. Her straight back spoke volumes. She was leaving—even if I commanded her back to my bed.
    “I asked you for help, and I shouldn’t have done that.” Her intent was clear. “I shouldn’t do that anymore. Owing you anything is a burden I’m not too good at carrying.”
    Owing me?
So anytime I did something for her I expected something in return? Love didn’t work that way. Immediately pissed off, I took a step toward her, but her hand went up to stop me.
    “I really have to go, Tomas.” Her face was apologetic as she made her final escape. “I’m sorry. It was great seeing you.”
    I clenched my fists hard enough for my fingertips to cut into my palms. Getting angry didn’t change a damn thing. As usual, her final words left my heart empty and waiting to be filled again.

Chapter 4
    Carlie
    Leaving Tomas like that wasn’t what I’d planned, but I couldn’t escape that room fast enough.
    I’d been awake for a while, but my eyes shot open the moment he started his room service phone call. And when he ordered the pancakes, I knew my time had run out yet again.
    Case in point, the mother of all stomachaches hit me not long before the sun rose.
    I held back another grimace as a painful jolt in my lower stomach punched me hard. The pain didn’t let up the entire trip down the hallway to the elevator.
    Fucking celiac disease…
    My symptoms hit as soon as my stomach’s contents reached my lower gut: namely the vanilla vodka I drank.
    I’d fucked up big time in more ways than one. During the whole trip down the hallway, I sucked in my breaths. Anything to keep myself from crying or letting what happened between Tomas and me get to me. Good Lord, I should hold a master’s degree in denial. I’d hang up that plaque right beside my bachelor’s degree in cruelty.
    Why did you drink that vodka, Carlie?
I asked myself.
    Because I wanted our time together to be sacred. Like it used to be.
    When we were together, vanilla vodka came first. Then around three or four A.M . we’d have strawberry-covered buttermilk pancakes. And finally, before the sun rose, I’d make a run for it like a thief in the night.
    No more pancakes now that I had a new diet as of a few weeks ago.
Not a new diet,
I reminded myself,
a lifestyle change
. That was what my oh-so-expensive private doctor in the U.K. had to say.
    Just look in the mirror, Ms. Jason,
Dr. Stanger had said with little sympathy.
The life you’re living right now leads to malnourishment and pain
.
    In the elevator, I clenched my teeth as another wave hit. Dr. Stanger wasn’t joking. Every poor judgment on my part now had a price.
    Tomas immediately came to mind.
Oh, the irony.
    Two years ago, I didn’t even blink when it came to eating gluten. Give me bread, pasta, or the like, and I’d eat it. Being picky wasn’t an option growing up. I was used to cheap boxed meals with macaroni and processed meat. Hard blocks of bread you had to work hard to eat. As a kid, I ignored the minor stomachaches. There was never enough to eat, so half the time I assumed the pain was just hunger.
    Little did I know I was a bomb waiting to go off.
    I was finally outside the hotel and the fresh air eased the discomfort a bit. Maybe it was the space I’d put between Tomas and me.
    Instead of catching a cab, I walked until I reached an intersection I didn’t recognize. A bus stop bench drew my eye. It reminded me of a summer day ten years ago. On that day, the NYC weather had been milder than usual, so I couldn’t wait to escape my foster home with Sophie, Penny, Griffin, and my other friends. We normally roamed the streets of the Bronx, but since the heat wasn’t baking us to a crisp, we took the 6 train down to Manhattan so we could hang out in Central Park.
    We usually followed the paths and people-watched. Since we never had much in