Swearing up a storm, I slipped on some shoes, and ran to the kitchen to grab my car keys from the hook by the fridge. I had no idea where my purse was so I decided to leave it, anxious to get to him as soon as possible.In the hopes that he’d answer eventually, I redialed his number as I opened the door.And then I froze.Because there he was, standing right in front of me, his hair messy like he’d run his hand through it a thousand times and his eyes wide and warm the minute they locked with mine.I dropped my hand from my ear, my mouth gaping.“Hi,” he said cautiously.His voice shocked me into action. “I was just calling you,” I said, clicking End on my cell.With his forehead creased, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell. “Oh. It’s on airplane mode,” he said, pocketing it again. “Why were you calling me anyway?” Though wary, he was so obviously hopeful.I was focused on his lips, the way they curved up with the slightest hint of a smile when he spoke. The way they we
“No, you should have,” I said, interrupting him. “I appreciate that you said it. I mean, I didn’t at the time, but I do now. I’m sorry I didn’t get it earlier.” I braved a glance up at him, and when my eyes met his, so full and earnest, I thought I’d melt.But Michelis. “So Chicago! What happened?” I barely dared to ask.“Chicago.” He stood, drawing out the word as he walked toward me, and for a minute I forgot I was waiting for him to talk and instead hoped he was coming to me, finally. Hoping he would finally put his arms around me.I swore, if he did, this time I’d never let him let me go.But he passed by me, ending up at the opposite wall of the arch. He leaned against it, mirroring my stance. “I just got back, actually.”“You said that. Did you…?” It worried me that he hadn’t just come out and said what happened already. “Is it bad?” I wrung my hands, waiting.“Emily,” he said softly. “I didn’t hurt him.”Relief filled my chest so fully I was surprised my bra still fit comfortab
ONEDYLAN“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!” Weston, my business partner,exclaimed from the front passenger seat of my service car as wepulled away from the curb.Restraining myself from directing the driver—a habit of mine,surely not useful now when I’d been out of New York City for so long—I looked behind me out the rear window at the two figures we’d leftbehind. Donovan Kincaid, another one of my partners at Reach, Inc.along with Weston King, was chasing down a girl who worked in theoffice—Sabrina Lind.I had only just met Sabrina this evening. The woman waspleasant, smart, straightforward. Had a good head on her shoulders.Weston and I had dined with her and her younger sister and had justbeen finishing up when Donovan had come in, all blustering andnoble and knightly.“Donovan called himself her boyfriend,” Weston saidincredulously, recalling the scene we’d just left. “Was I the only onewho heard that? I can’t be that drunk.”It had been an out-of-character declaration for th
But I wasn’t.She was a very attractive young lady. I couldn’t help how mybody reacted. I’d been respectful. For the most part.“This is me,” Weston said, pointing out the window to his building.My driver pulled over next to a large bank of snow. To be fair, theentire street was banked with snow, lingering from the storm the daybefore.“Guess I’m going snowshoeing,” Weston said with a sigh. Hestepped out of the car and immediately cursed, the door slammingbefore I could make out the full extent of his blaspheme.I leaned over Audrey, and not just because I wanted to smell therose bouquet in her perfume, but so that I could roll the windowdown and call after my partner.“Have a good Thanksgiving,” I said, “if I don’t see you againbefore the holiday.” He was flying off somewhere later in the week—Utah or Kansas—the United States Midwest was always a blur tothis Hampshire native.“You too, friend. It was good seeing you. If even briefly. And nicemeeting you, Audrey.” He turne
“Are you saying that you are not…? That you haven’t…?” Icleared my throat, floundering a bit with how I was asking this nearstranger about her virginity. It was like the opening of a poorly writtenporno.Holy mother of God, I was going to be fantasizing about this forquite some time.“Oh, no,” she said in a rush.And to my relief. I couldn’t handle the weight of knowing that andlater having to get out of the car to see her to the door of herapartment building.“I’m not that innocent,” she went on. “I’ve had boyfriends. Twoserious. Long-term, each of them. Very committed, very in love withboth of them. And, maybe, even, either one of them could have beenthe guy. You know, The Guy? The Forever Guy?”The fairy tale. Yes, I knew that story.She was in a car now with me though. Not with me, but shewasn’t with anyone else either, from what I’d gathered during thenight. So those fairy tales had obviously ended. The way that everyfairy tale eventually does and life returns back to
“Are you worried about it?” I challenged.His eyes never left me. “Of course not.”“Then what are you afraid of?”His restraint broke, and his mouth swooped down on mine like awolf descending on its prey. There was no foreplay. No sweetseduction. Just hungry determination as he placed a hand at theback of my head and attacked with fierce ardor. He was firm andaggressive. He was skillful and demanding. He was in charge.Silly, stupid, willing lamb that I was, I latched myself to him,throwing my arms around his neck and licking at the greedy plungeof his tongue between my lips. I wanted his taste of wine andsmoked bass to be my taste, to be the only taste I could remember. Ineeded to drink him and devour him the way he seemed to need todrink and devour me.We were frenzied and sloppy, our teeth crashing against eachother at times, our breath coming in irregular measures. It felt asthough the whole of time had been reduced to this moment, theentirety of the universe reduced t
Disappointment sounded in my tone nonetheless when I finallyreplied. “Yes. The hotel.”The car signal clicked rhythmically as we waited at a light to turnuptown. I sunk back in my seat, letting myself remember, for amoment, the person I’d been when I’d wed. I’d felt so much oldermarrying a woman ten years my senior, but I was really such a childthen, only twenty-five.My, how I’d grown up since.And now my thoughts turned back to Audrey, younger than I’dbeen when I’d married, but just as enthusiastic and charmed withlove and life as I’d been.I opened my texts and found where she’d sent herself amessage.A: A million people in the city, and you and I met. That’skismet.I laughed out loud. My driver was spot on—she was fantastic.Fantastic and trusting and young and that was enough reason todelete both her number and the whimsical message from my phone.But I saved it instead. Not because she’d hooked me, butbecause I needed to know it was her when she called. If she called.
“Donovan Kincaid doesn’t know what to do with a kid. This is youtrying to keep him from me, like you always do.” This conversationreaffirmed my decision to get a second apartment in New York City—so that I could visit more often and have more access to Aaron.“I’m not keeping him from anyone. You are delusional.”“And you’re ice. Cold and bitter and mean. Exactly the qualitiesthat drove me to leave you.” Maybe I was going there after all.“You didn’t leave me because I was cold and bitter. You leftbecause I cheated on you.” She’d destroyed my heart with herbetrayal and she almost sounded like she was gloating.To hell with her.“You were ice cold and bitter before that. It simply took the act ofyou cheating on me to recognize that I couldn’t…” I paused andinhaled deeply. I didn’t need to relive this. I didn’t want to rememberhow deeply I’d once believed in her. In us.“That you couldn’t save me?” she finished for me. “Couldn’t makeme whole again? Is that what you were going