Rin

I could have stayed in Italy forever.

We spent our last night in each other’s arms, our bodies and minds coming together one final, unobstructed time before we went back to the reality that New York promised.

The change in him was so blindingly brilliant that I barely recognized the man he’d become, the one who smiled and laughed and touched my face like I was the only woman on earth. The man who’d flung accusations and assumptions at me like a flying guillotine had disappeared.

He was like a toasty marshmallow—charred and crispy on the outside, warm, gooey mush on the inside.

We didn’t sleep on the flight home, hoping we could forgo some of the jet lag by waiting to sleep until we got back to New York that night. Instead, we talked. We talked about my family, my friends. My dissertation and the exhibit. But for all our conversation, I couldn’t get him to delve past cursory details of his life—his mother had died when he was young, and his father had been largely absent from his life though a constant source of pressure and control. I knew his family was rich and powerful, his grandparents and extended family a distant fixture but always looming. But beyond that, I knew very little. In fact, he spoke more about his college years than anything, and I got the sense that was when he’d been most happy.

Finding out who had hurt him and how had proven elusive. I sensed he wanted to tell me; sometimes, he’d watch me, part his lips as if to speak, and change his mind, smiling instead or kissing me or making a joke.

Court Lyons. Joking.

Trust me, I was surprised too.

Of course, the one thing we didn’t talk about was the only thing I could think about—us. And I didn’t even consider bringing it up—the thought of getting dumped on an international flight didn’t have a single iota of appeal.

The ride home was long but not long enough, our conversation drifting away in favor of quietude, though my mind was full of questions. I leaned into his chest, resting my head in the curve of his neck, his arm around me and his free hand entwined with mine. I tried to take comfort in his touch—nothing in his body was saying goodbye, nothing warning me he was slipping away. And when we pulled up to my building, I very nearly wanted to cry out of exhaustion and sheer aversion to finding out what saying goodbye would mean.

He carried my suitcase up the steps, stepping back down to put me above him, And he took my face in his hands, looking up at me like I was a sacred relic.

“I don’t want you to go,” I said quietly as I fiddled with the edge of his leather jacket, my eyes on my hands, overwhelmed by the feeling that when he walked away, the magic would disappear and Court along with it.

“We should get some rest—work is going to suck tomorrow. If I’m in your bed tonight, neither of us is sleeping, and you know it.”

I sighed. “That’s fair.” I met his eyes, felt the recognition of the moment, of our hearts. And I took a breath, steeling myself. “Court, I—”

“Can I pick you up in the morning?”

My mouth closed. Then frowned. “That’s not—”

“I know it’s not. Everything’s fine, Rin. Okay? Tomorrow. Come home with me after work and stay the night. Pack a bag.”

I watched him for a moment, biting back the questions tumbling through my head, the arguments rolling around beside them. “And then we’ll talk?”

“I promise,” he said, and like an idiot, I believed him. “And I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”

“That doesn’t make any sense—you live on the Upper East.”

An elegant shrug. “I don’t mind. Just promise me you’ll wear a skirt tomorrow.”

“All right.”

“And the red heels.”

I chuckled. “Anything you want.”

He hummed, smiling as he brought his lips to mine. “I like the sound of that.”

The kiss was hot and heavy with intention he had no plans to follow through on, that bastard. It all but erased my fears—his body couldn’t lie to me. He couldn’t pretend. If it were over, I’d know. He just didn’t want to define things, and I could do that. Be the easygoing, non-needy girl who just went with it. I didn’t need any proof beyond his kiss and his promise of tomorrow.

I leaned into him, my arms around his neck and his hands on my hips, sighing when he broke away.

“Tomorrow,” he said, his voice husky. “And tomorrow night, you’re mine.”

“All right,” I agreed, assuaged and beaming.

He kissed me once more before letting me go, turning for the car. But he stopped before getting in, hooking his hand on the top of the door, smiling back at me in a way that hit me right in the chest.

I raised a hand, and he disappeared before the car drove away.

I floated into the house, sighing wistfully as I closed the door behind me.

Three mutinous faces were waiting when I turned around.

“You kissed him!” Val pointed at me, declaring me a traitor.

“I can explain—” I started.

Amelia folded her arms. “No mean guys. That is one of the top rules, Rin!”

“Well, we said no butt stuff either, but—”

All three of them gasped.

“Judas!” Val cried.

“Seriously, just let me—”

Katherine shook her head. “God, Rin. I can’t deny that he’s hot, but I really thought you’d stick to your guns.”

I frowned. “Now, hold on a minute.” They started to talk again, and I held up my hand. “That’s enough! No one gets to speak until I’m finished. Got it?”

They nodded, but they didn’t look happy about it.

When I moved toward the kitchen, they held the line.

“I’ve been traveling for upwards of fifteen hours. Can we at least sit down?”

They let me pass, following me into the kitchen where I poured a glass of water and got myself an oatmeal cream pie to fortify me as they sat expectantly in a row at the island.

“He apologized.” I took a bite of the Little Debbie as they burst into noise. I held up my hand again to halt them, and they scowled but quieted. “It’s more complicated than that, but that’s the heart of it. He apologized, and he meant it. He’s broken because he’s been hurt, so he has trust issues.”

Katherine’s eyes narrowed. “So, he’s an asshole because he’s so sensitive?”

I laughed at the realization. “Actually, yes.”

“That is ridiculous,” she said.

“It really, really is. But after that, he…I don’t know. He changed. He was sweet and happy and kind while somehow still being bossy. But not like mean bossy. Just sexy bossy.”

Val frowned. “Are you sure it wasn’t the vacation effect?”

Amelia’s face fell. “Oh no.”

“The vacation effect?” I asked, my brows drawing together.

“You know,” Amelia started, “when your vacation is so amazing and perfect and you’re all caught up in it, but when you go back to the real world, everything goes back to the way it was.”

My mouth dried up. I set the pie down. “No. That wouldn’t happen. It was too…”

“Perfect?” Val said.

I tried to swallow, but the lump in my throat didn’t move. “It was more than that. He…he…we…”

“Why do you think he was so different?” Katherine asked.

“Well…” I thought., “He apologized, that was probably the biggest thing. He promised to try, to see what happens—”

Katherine snorted. “That’s noble.”

I frowned. “He was like a totally different person. Happy and easy and free. He let me in, and all these days, we’ve been together. Like, together, together.”

“Banging?” Amelia said.

My cheeks flushed. “Yes, but not just that. We talked. We saw art. We enjoyed each other’s company beyond just that. Although that was enough to have me wondering what the hell I’ve been missing all these years.”

Their eyes widened, and smiles touched their lips.

“That good?” Val asked.

“Better. It was too…much for it not to have been real. He…he was so happy, and…” I shook my head, emotion brushing the base of my throat. “He said it was because of me.”

They softened at that.

“He’s been hurt really bad—not only by a woman, but by his dad, too. He’s been used, and he thought I was someone else who wanted to take rather than give. But I’m not, and I think he realized that. I think I’ve earned his trust. He…he let me in, and that changed him too. And I refuse to believe that’s a passing phase, that I was just someone for him to…to…sleep with in Italy. I trust him. I believe him.”

Amelia reached for my hand. “Then we’ll believe him, too.”

Katherine added, “But if he hurts you, I’ll hunt that asshole down.”

Relief washed over me, and I smiled. “You’ll have to get in line.”

“So,” Val started, “you guys are a thing? A real thing?”

Discomfort niggled at my mind. “I don’t know. We haven’t…defined anything. But he asked me to come over tomorrow, and he’s coming to pick me up for work, so…we’re something. Of course, that’s a whole other issue. We’ve got to be careful—technically, we’re not supposed to mess around, and Bianca’s gonna be on our asses. Plus, his father is the president of the museum, and I don’t even want to think about what would happen if he found out.” A shiver skittered down my back.

“Well, that should be interesting since you’ve had two orgasms at the museum so far,” Val joked.

“I can only hope we can get our fill after hours. Maybe it’ll be easier since we’re sleeping together for real.”

“Or maybe it’ll get harder,” Amelia said with a salacious waggle of her eyebrows.

And I laughed, too high on the trip to understand how dangerous the whole thing was or how far I’d put my heart on the line.

And I wouldn’t until it was too late.

* * *

Court

A ghost of a smile rested on my lips the whole way home, my mind turning over every second that had passed since I left the city with her only a few days before.

Had it only been a few days? Could so much have happened? My apartment felt foreign, the man who’d lived here a stranger. A man who had barely lived here at all, barely lived. Being alone for the first time after spending every minute with Rin, awake and asleep, drew a hard, dark line under my loneliness.

I should have asked her to come home with me. The words had been on my tongue, but I’d held them back, knowing we could use a minute apart, as much as I hated it. I needed to think about how to answer her. How to tell her I wanted her, but I couldn’t give her all of me.

I should have told her sooner. I should have given her a choice before we spent the weekend together.

But I hadn’t. I’d been so sure we’d get it out of our systems, that we’d be tired of each other after five days. But we weren’t. In fact, I already missed her. I imagined her slipping between the sheets without me and resisted the urge to hop in a cab and go over there right fucking now.

I’d hedged the conversation we had to have. I knew we did, that she needed an answer, an explanation. She needed to know what she meant to me. I just didn’t know what to say or how to say it.

Rin, with her easy smile and open heart. With her beautiful mind and her inviting body I couldn’t get enough of. I’d built a levee around my heart to keep everything and everyone out. Kissing her had cracked a fissure in the wall. Florence had taken a sledgehammer to that crack, and when the wall had crumbled and the water rushed in, my thirsty, hardened heart had soaked up every drop.

All because of her. And I realized with a blinding flash that she could be the one to make me believe in love again.

I stopped dead in the hallway, my heart speeding, thumping, aching.

Love.

The pain in my chest was acute, a hot tear in my ribs at that word, those four little letters that held the power to ruin me.

And my thirsty heart was drowning, the water rushing over me suffocating, oppressive. And I did the only thing I knew to do.

I threw sandbags on the breach to make it stop.

I couldn’t fall in love again—I wouldn’t.

Love was not on the table, and it never could be.

So, I devised a new plan to take back control, bolstered by my regret, underscored by my mistakes. Because I should have been wise enough to walk away before I hurt her.

I’d warned her, and she hadn’t listened.

But it was me who should have known better.