27
Two weeks later.
Bleak, gray clouds cover the horizon, hiding every bit of blue there may be, and while it’s not raining, it feels like the sky could burst open at any moment. After my first time flying alone, I’m exhausted and slightly hungover. It wasn’t until after my third glass of wine that my nerves became manageable. My tolerance for the snoring man whose head kept falling onto my shoulder—not somuch.
A cool breeze bites through my thin T-shirt and leggings. Adjusting the gym bag slung over my shoulder, I listen to the hum of the city. The sirens sound less brash, the sputter of the engines is oddly heavier. The bits and pieces of conversation I hear on my way down the street are laced with English charm. Elijah was right, if you listen closely enough, each city has its ownaccent.
As it turns out, Steph has borderline FBI skills when it comes to tracking people down. One shady website and forty bucks later, and I had Elijah’s address in hand. I canceled my clients, booked a flight to London, and here I am, lost among rows of white townhomes with navy flower boxes on thewindowsills.
Townhome number fifty-two is the only one without flowers on its ledge. My stomach knots when I step to the door and raise my hand to knock. I pause, inhaling as I stare at the toe of my Converse. Even after mulling this conversation over in my head for two weeks, I’m still not exactly sure how to say: I lied about my name, but I loveyou.
Just as I knock, I hear a car door slams shut on the street behind me. The sound of Elijah’s voice catches my attention. My heart clenches when I spin away from the door and spot him as he rounds the back of a black Mercedes. His charcoal gray suit clings to his wide frame, the red tie against the stark-white shirt provides a sense of power. And while he looks every bit the successful businessman he is, the careless way his hair is styled gives him a playboyedge.
The passenger door opens, and a pair of long, feminine legs swing out. He moves to the side of the car, waiting for her to exit.He shouldn’t be waiting for her to exit.I swallow when his hand lightly touches the small of her back as she steps over the curb. I made a mistake… Oh my God, I made amistake!
They exchange a few words, all the while his attention is glued to his phone. When he eventually glances up, he stops mid-stride. The smile on his face falls, his entire expression crumpling the way my heart is at this verymoment.
The woman glances between us. I feel my cheeks sting withheat.
“Lucy,” he says, confusion setting his brow. “When you get to the meeting would you tell Charles and David that something’s come up? I’ll sign the contractstomorrow.”
“Yes, Mr.Banks.”
“Thank you.” And then he stalks toward me, carrying that air of confidence he can’t seem toshake.
The closer he gets, the harder it is to breathe. It’s only been two weeks, but it seems like ten months, and by the time he stops in front of me, I’m ready to crumble like a dead, autumnleaf.
He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t ask one question, just pulls me into his warmembrace.
I rest my cheek against the soft material of his suit. The scent of leather and spice wrap around me, soothing my tired muscles, and I don’t know how I ever expected to live withouthim.
“I’m so sorry,” Iwhisper.
“All that matters is that you’re here.” He moves back just enough to cup my face. “I missed you so much,Demi.”
My insides rattle with guilt and worry. Before I confess my sins, there’s one thing I need to do. I drop my bag from my shoulder and grab the memory box from inside, practically shoving it into hishands.
He traces along the path of stars carved into the side, then strums a fingertip over the strings. The sullen notes carry into the wind. “Is this made from acello?”
“Yes. A cello and the stars, because being vulnerable is the only way you can truly ever lovesomeone.”
His brow wrinkles. His jaw twitches, and when he looks at me, he looks at me like I am everything in the whole world. He goes to kiss me, but I place my palm to his chest and take a step back. If I wait too much longer, I’ll never be able to stomachthis.
“And honest,” I say. “You have to be honest, and I’ve not exactly been honest withyou.”
His expression falls flat, and I take a breath. “My name’s not Demi, Elijah. It’s Charlie.” His eyes narrow, and I look at theground.
“You lied about yourname?”
Panic twists through my chest like jagged blades. I just need to get it all out and over with. “I was never supposed to see you again,” I blurt. “But then I did see you again, and you called me Demi. I didn’t think it would go anywhere so what was the point in explaining it then? You were this sexy guy who I had no business getting involved with.” My face is growing hot, and I’m still staring at the ground. “I’d never even sexted until you, and besides, you were leaving in a month’s time. It all happened so fast, and then when I went to get on the plane the ticket was for Demi, not Charlie, and I lost my phone and just. I just… I would have been here two weeks ago had I not been such adumbass.”
There’s a pause. A moment of silence that seems unbearably long. He must hate me, and I expect his face to be full of anger. But when I manage to glance up, I’m met with an amusedsmirk.
“Charlie?” He holds out his hand. “I’m Elijah. Would you like to have somecoffee?”
Dropping my chin with a laugh, I nod. “I’dloveto have coffee withyou.”
He slams his mouth over mine in a hard kiss. His tongue thrusts against mine and just when I reach the point I can no longer breathe, he nips at my lip and pulls away. “I could never get enough of that,” he says, sliding my bag from my shoulder. He sets it along with the box inside his apartment, then he takes my hand, threading his fingers through mine as we start down thestreet.
