Page 40 of Then There Was You
Is this our time to figure it out?
I can’t help but hope it is.
Resting one hand high above my shoulder, he tilts his head to the side for his eyes to latch onto mine. The tip of his tongue slips out to drag along his bottom lip while his gaze lowers to my mouth. When a heaviness in his lids causes them to dip closed, he scrapes his teeth across his lip.
The internal anguish he seems to be fighting is painted across his features. Brows pulled tight over narrowed eyes. One heavy exhale that tickles across my skin. Even my swallow is too hard. My heart racing, but I dare to reach forward, resting my palms on his chest. His eyes open, and his expression eases when he sees me again. “You’re real,” he whispers no louder than a taken breath, and when he leans in even closer, my eyelids flutter closed as the butterflies in my stomach awaken. I want his lips on mine again so badly, to feel the passion we once shared again, even if only for the briefest of kisses.
I can feel the heat of his breath on my forehead, my own catching in my throat in anticipation. But when I expect to feel him press to my skin, I don’t. Opening my eyes, I can see his lips were so close to landing before he stopped himself. His eyes are still closed as if he’s debating, but when he takes a sharp breath, he pulls back, and says, “I’ll give you a proper hello later. I promise.” It’s a promise of more to come, but I can’t stopmissing the kiss that almost was. “And hey, we won’t stay here long.”
“We can stay as long as you want.”
A smirk plays at the left corner of his mouth when he pulls back, looking at me with something wild in his eyes. I feel the same inside. Looking up at the ceiling, he chuckles in disbelief. “Trust me, this party isn’t what I want right now.”
It’s not where I want to be either, but celebrating his achievement is worth the pause in whatever is building between us.
He suddenly pushes off the wall, stealing my breath with the quick motion. Walking toward the door, he glances back, reaching for me. “Let’s get this over with so we can go.”
He treats me like I belong here with him . . .
As if we were always meant to be together . . .
I take his hand, looking up when I’m practically tucked under his arm, and say, “Thank you for trusting me.”
“Trusting you with what?”
I glance at the door, not sure what to expect on the other side. “With this part of your life.”
The back of his fingers graze my cheek, his eyes taking me in one last time before he turns and opens the door. I stay behind him, letting him take the lead. It’s his event, and I don’t want the spotlight. Or scrutiny. I’m not sure what to expect.
He shuts the door behind us and asks, “You alright?”
“Don’t worry about me. What kind of Stansbury would I be if I didn’t know how to entertain others?”
The party is smaller than the one downstairs. It’s quainter and more social; people can talk and mingle. In fact, there aren’t enough people to avoid detection, but there are plenty who allowed us the moment of privacy at the entrance. He gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “You don’t have to entertain anybody,Sosie.” The edge to his tone pulls my gaze to his. “You’re not on display here. You’re my guest. I can stay with you.”
“I didn’t mean it to sound?—”
“Keats,” calls the woman he was with downstairs. With a toothy smile and her hair slicked back, she rushes from one side of the room to where we’re standing. “Everybody is so excited about securing your book to publish.” Her eyes fall on me, and she smiles. “Taylor Murchison. I’m this brilliant writer’s agent.”
He releases my hand subtly, but the cold drifts across my palm that had been warmed by his. We probably shouldn’t have walked in like we were something we’re not, so I try not to let it turn what’s been so good into a negative. Keats runs his hand through his hair and grins. “She’s paid the big bucks to say that.”
She says, “My fees are standard for the industry. The compliments are free.”
We laugh together, but then he says, “This is Sosie Stansbury.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I say, shaking her hand. With his coat still swallowing me, I feel the heat of her attention, though it’s not because of anything she’s done. Do I explain who I am and why I’m suddenly here at his side? That there’s an invisible drawstring that pulls Keats and me back together every couple of years? Yeah, that won’t make sense to anyone who has not experienced it. It’s best to keep my mouth shut and let Keats take this one. Especially because that also makes me sound like a one-night stand.
Oh my God.
Am I a one-night stand?
That’s notallwe are, at least not to me. It’s not like we’ve had the opportunity to define what simmers between us. Although he doesn’t seem to see me that way, that is what we are at the bare minimum. Though I’ll never be convinced we aren’t more even if we don’t have the chance to prove it.
“You too, Sosie.” Glancing at Keats, she says, “I need to steal you away for a few minutes.” Looking at me, she grins. “The CEO of the publishing house is anxious to meet him.”
Keats looks at me as if I determine the outcome. “Go,” I say, giving him a playful shove. “I’ll be fine.”
He searches my eyes. Finding what he was looking for, he grants me a smile. “I’ll be right back.”
