She bites her lip. “I just wanted to be comfortable.”
“Bloody hell, you drove me bonkers!”
She says nothing to that, and I’m too busy drinking in this gorgeous woman who quite literally inserted herself between me and the world when I think about it. All those reporters vying to take their best shot at me, how she shoved the first git away, and not to mention how she stood by me the entire time. Just like she promised.
All my life I’ve fought for what I wanted—what I wanted to do and be, how I wanted to live my life. And I’ve done it alone. So has Lily. But tonight, she contended for me. Sounds absurd to think about it, considering my dalliances with romance stories. I should be the one fighting for her.
And I do want to fight for her. Even if I have to follow her around the world. Because with her, I’m not alone anymore. Kind of a duh moment, I know. But it’s true.
Another rumble of thunder pierces the night as fat raindrops pelt the car. I touch Lily’s face, running my fingers along her hairline, then tuck a loose strand behind her ear and cup her cheek. “Lily, I started falling for you the day you followed me onto that airplane and began planning our ruse. None of this has been fake for me.”
Her eyes dart back and forth as though she’s searching for what to say. But instead of words, she lunges forward and kisses me hungrily, clinging to me almost as if she’s saying goodbye. I wrap my arms around her and press her closer, refusing to believe that’s the case, all the while trying to convince her I meant what I said with each nibble of her lips and stroke of my tongue against her softness.
I love her with every cell in my being. Her leaving would be like depriving me of my ability to breathe. Somehow, I have to make her see we belong together, whether that means she stays here with me. Or I go back to England with her.
Gently, I pull away from her. “What do I need to do to convince you this is real?”
Tears well in her eyes, and for a moment,I think she’s going to tell me she feels the same and maybe even that she loves me.
But then she pushes me away, jumps out of the car, and runs into the pouring rain.
Chapter Thirty
LILY
“Lily, wait!” Payton’s steps slap against the wet asphalt behind me.
What do I say to him? I want to tell him how I feel, but something’s holding me back. Maybe it’s because the plan was always to return to England and resume my life as part of Dame Maxwell’s security team—a job I don’t think I want anymore.
Or maybe I’m just afraid this is all too good to be true. That Payton will inevitably realize I’m not what he wants, and that will confirm what I’ve suspected all along—I don’t belong anywhere. That ‘home’ is something others get to enjoy.
But not me.
I make it to the door of his apartment and stop, realizing I left the keys in the car. “Crap.”
“Lily, please look at me.”
With slow steps, I turn around to face him, even though I’d much rather be inside, hiding in my room. I could make a dash for the car, grab the keys, and run away again. But somehow, I think Payton and all his glorious muscles and quick moves would stop me before I could get through the front door.
Water drips from his hair, running rivulets down his face as he stands in the pouring rain, staring at me with that smile…the one that has officially tilted my world onto a new axis.
“Don’t go back to England.” He takes a step closer, bringing his soggy self almost close enough to touch.
I fist my hands at my sides to keep myself from reaching out to him. Because as much as I want the fantasy to be real, it all feels too risky. And staying was never part of the plan. “Why?”
He holds his arms out at his sides. “Isn’t it obvious?”
I brush a wet strand of hair out of my eyes, wanting nothing more than to throw caution to the wind and jump into those arms. To take a literal leap and not worry about all the details like what I would do, and who I would be here.
But I can’t do that, can I? “I don’t know how to do this.”
In lightning speed, he closes the distance between us, holding me with one hand on my lower back and, with his other, tips my chin up with his finger, forcing me to look at him. His eyes drill into me, demanding to know the truth. “Don’t know or just afraid?”
Such an odd mix, to laugh and cry at the same time. Perhaps some relief as well, to let go of all pretenses and just be honest. “Both?”
My thought as his lips touch mine is how easily I could knock him off his feet to the ground right now. That’s my normal MO in almost any threatening situation. And this is definitely one of them. My heart’s never been in danger like this. Defending myself makes sense. Instead, I cling to him as if my life depends upon it. And maybe it does. A new life, a new place, a new beginning that includes love this time.
Could I do that? Could this be the final pivot I’ve been so hungry for?
