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Kisses meet my shoulder as we come down and after a moment, I shrug them away, ready to cover myself again.
When his body moves away from mine, I bite my lip.
What comes next?
My hands make quick work of pulling my dress back up. I fumble over buttons and I swear I can feel him watching me. A glance over my shoulder confirms it.
“I can hear the questions you won’t let yourself ask,” he announces.
That voice of his, the timbre of confidence, it agitates when it pokes at my soft spots.
“You’re mistaken,” I lie, tucking my hair behind my ears.
“I think it’s endearing. How clearly it’s written on your face that you have no idea what happens now.” All of these words come as he puts himself back together, pocketing his tied off condom.
And when he’s finished, it’s strange. That he could look so normal after exploding my reality.
He’s stepping toward me again, and I want to run away, to hide from the fact that we just had the most amazing sexual experience of my life, and I will never see him again.
No one ever stays.
Except me.
“Nothing happens now,” I inform him. “You walk out of that door, and I go home. And we never see each other again.”
“Eloise—”
“Don’t ruin tonight.” I push past him, wanting nothing more than space between us. “I’m not the kind of woman who needs pretty promises to hold onto. I sleep just fine with the truth.”
“You really are something,” he says, following me through the store. I stop at the door and turn to face him, hating the way his eyes are wide with hope and still brimming with lust.
Doesn’t he know?
I’m a bitch. A cold-hearted woman. A pain in the ass.
“It’s appealing at first. But we both know this isn’t a task you’re prepared to take on.” I unlock the door and step aside, hanging my head so I don’t have to watch him leave.
When he walks out, I tell myself he wouldn’t have stayed anyway.
Even if I’d asked him to.
CHAPTER FOUR
IF ONLY YOU COULD SEE US NOW
ELOISE
Warm tea makesit way down my throat, and I close my eyes for a moment, reveling in the comfort of it.
It’s considered a quirk to others, something no one quite understands, that I’m able to enjoy a warm beverage, even on the hottest days. But my dad always told me there wasn’t much a cup of tea couldn’t fix. That British accent of his made me trust anything he said.
But it wasn’t just the accent that did it. It was his warmth, the love he had for my mother, the way he’d eye her full of amusement as she carried on.
Sure, she was the star of the show.
But she was able to shine because he aimed the spotlight just right.
My eyes scan the trees before settling on the garage just to the left. From where I stand in the kitchen, I can’t see any sign of life where my older sister Sophie stays. The small window above the sink doesn’t lend the space needed to further investigate, so I turn and lean my hip against the kitchen island.
