“Just tell me one thing,” I said.
“Anything.”
“Have I been better than Reed Easton?”
Her laughter broke free, and her eyes coated with tears she couldn’t quite hold back as one spilled over, rolling down onto her high cheekbone before falling down over her lip. “Yes.” She nodded enthusiastically, torn between sadness and elation as she stared up at me. “You win.”
“Good. You know how I feel about sharing.”
“I know.” Her smile fell, even though she tried to keep it alive, and her brows knitted together as another tear fell.
I hated to see her that way—hated knowing I’d brought even a second of doubt or sadness into her life with this goodbye.
“If I ask one last thing of you, will you do it for me?”
Phoebe nodded, swallowing down her emotion. “Yes.”
“Close your eyes for this, and don’t open them until you hear the coach pull away.”
She opened her mouth to say something before clearly thinking better of it and pressing her mouth into a flat line. Another tear fell, and I brushed it away carefully. Without argument, she carefully closed her eyes and released a long, weighted exhale, leaving me to whisper only one last thing in her ear.
“I’ll remember, Phoebe.”
Then I placed a soft kiss to her tear-soaked lips, and somehow, some way, I forced myself to let my hands fall from her skin before I turned to walk away…
Not knowing if she ever did look up to see me drag myself away, or if she kept those pretty blues of hers hidden, unable to watch our summer story come to an end.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Henry
The flight home held the title for the longest and most miserable I’d ever taken.
We touched down in England in the piss-pouring rain sometime in the early hours of the morning, because summer in this country went that way. Glorious sunshine one day, arctic conditions the next. What else did I really expect after two weeks of paradise? England always had a way of letting you know it was pissed off with your betrayal at having visited another country.
Whether Andy had seen something in me when I’d warned him not to get in my way earlier or not, I couldn’t be sure, but his growls had gotten softer, and he’d even asked me if I wanted a pint in the airport, which I’d refused, too pissed at him to do anything but look down at my phone and scroll through the pictures of Phoebe. Especially the ones from the last seven days. Her bright white smile and sparkling eyes stared back at me, and the longer the holiday went on, the more she relaxed in my company with every image I looked at.
Fuck, the girl was stunning, and not just on the outside. In fact, her inner beauty outshone those angel blue eyes of hers I couldn’t stop thinking about.
I’d known it when I’d held her in my arms last night, and I’d known it when I’d kissed our final goodbye, but now the truth of how I felt slapped me up the side of the head like a sledgehammer.
I’d fallen for her.
This thing between us had turned from lust to… that one word I never thought I’d feel, and it had taken no time at all.
Now, I had to endure the car ride home from the airport with that knowledge slapping me in the head and heart over and over again. I slid into the passenger seat when Jace snuck into the back of Andy’s car with one of the suitcases, leaving me with no other option. I hadn’t planned to be up front, but Jace wasn’t always as thick as he pretended to be, and when he flashed his cocky smirk my way, I knew his move had been intentional.
He wanted Andy and me to talk it out in a confined space before we arrived home and dragged this thing out for another few weeks, months, or even for ever.
I’d been ready to go for it, too, when Andy’s phone rang over the speaker, and the sound of an all too familiar voice floated through the car when he accepted the call.
“Hey, big bro. You’re home!” Lillie cried out, unaware of her horrific timing.
Andy’s knuckles tightened around the steering wheel; the not-so-subtle side eye he gave me well and truly noted. “Hey, Lils. Yeah, we’re back. Landed an hour ago. Just on the M4 now. What are you doing awake at this time?”
She laughed. “Do you not know me at all? It’s 5:00 a.m. What do I do every morning at 5:00 a.m.?”
Lillie had always been an early riser when I’d been with her, driving me crazy with her social media-inspired perfect scheduleof working out early at the gym, followed by a protein smoothie, a macro-counted breakfast, a full shower including hair wash and blow dry, before she’d finally think about making her way to work that day if she had it.
