Page 272 of Trouble from Abroad
He pulls me in, arm snug around my waist, and my body answers without permission: shoulders dropping, breath evening out, my back fitting too well into his chest. The ease of it should scare me more than it does.
In a few hours, we’ll have to put our clothes back on, pick Lily up, go home and act like we didn’t spend the day becoming something we shouldn’t. I stare at the wall and practice my “nothing happened” face until my throat stops tightening.
“This is the quietest you’ve ever been. Have I broken you?” He pulls me closer.
“Help me stop overthinking things. Ask me something.”
“What scares you?” He doesn’t even hesitate.
“Really?” I turn toward him. “You went for the jugular like that?” I’m too raw to give him anything but the truth. “That I’ve already peaked. That being Liam’s PA was a lucky fluke, and the rest of my life is just… downhill from here. You?”
Preston takes a beat, but gives me full candor too. “Fucking it all up. Again.” The confession lands heavily, and the bed feels smaller.
“You won’t.” I sound more certain than I could possibly be, having just arrived in his life, but that’s how I feel.
I turn and cup his face, fingers soft, attempting to anchor and convince him.
“Whoever you fall in love with next? She’ll be the luckiest woman alive.You’re good, Preston.Not because of your looks or your money or your massive, frankly unreasonable cock.” That earns me the barest twitch of a smirk. “You’re good because you care. Because you try. Because you show up even when it’s hard. You love like it’s oxygen. And that kind of love? It saves people. Yourself included.” I kiss him once, slow and lingering.
Then instantly cringe. “Ugh. Sorry. That was way too much. Blame it on the orgasms. I’m not usually this… mushy. I think you broke my sarcasm filter.”
Luckily, I still have some kind of filter left and don’t tell him that right now,Iwant to be the luckiest woman alive.
Preston doesn’t say a word. Just holds me tighter. I don’t say more either. Because I’ve already said too much—and maybe, just maybe, exactly what he needed.
We lie in silence for a while, letting the words sink in and blanket us.
“Thank you,” he murmurs while his lips touch my forehead. “And no, you haven’t peaked, Mia. And you’re no fluke. I see how hard you work for anyopportunity you get. How much you put in, even for the smallest tasks. There’s no other way for you but up.”
I lift my head, reaching for his lips, sealing his mouth shut with a kiss. Enough of these promises we have no business making. Enough of falling in love within a day. What kind of nonsense is this cartwheeling in my chest? This was not on the list, and it has no place there.
I pull the duvet higher, as if it can protect me, as if it can draw a line, or some distance between us. I’ve never been a good liar, but this attempt is borderline ridiculous.
Sleep draws me in before I can overthink a safe way out of this, and the alarm buzzes me back to reality before rest can set in my bones. Either he never slept, or he woke up before me; either way, he looks way too happy, staring at me while I check for drool and eye boogers.
“That was nice of you, setting the alarm.”
“Did you even sleep?” I ask after a yawn.
He smiles like a fool, and I fail miserably trying not to do the same.
“And miss the view?”
“Oh, shut up,” I say, mismatching the stupid smile on my face.
He tuts. “So much less convincing when I’m not inside you.”
I fake outrage with an open mouth and a hand on my chest. “Come, let’s get ready. You need to put some clothes on if there’s any chance we’re ever leaving this room.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
preston
We leavethe hotel around five-thirty. Mia’s hair is still a bit damp from the shower, pulled into a messy bun, and I can smell her citrusy shampoo from across the center console. Lucky me, she takes it everywhere.
My hand has found new residency on top of her thigh, and I don’t dare move it. We’ve barely turned onto the main road when Callie calls. I pick it up on speaker.
“Preston. You better not be screening your calls just because you’re having an existential crisis.”
