“Mercy! Mercy!” I scream again.If he doesn’t stop soon, I’m going to pee mypants.
I suck in a deep breath when Hugo finally hears my roaring pleas and rolls off me. My heart is beating wildly against my chest; my cheeks are sore from the large smile I’ve been wearing all night, and my throat is hoarse from the childish laughter that tore from my lips. It feels like we’ve stepped back in time thirteen years and are once again two teens lying on the floor in the middle of Jorgie’s bedroom.Oh what I’d give to really step backintime.
My exam room falls into eerie silence. It is so quiet, I'd hear a pin drop. Suddenly, one of the most wonderful noises I’ve ever heard in my life thunders through my ears, startling the living daylights out of me. Hugo’s head is thrown back, and he is laughing. Not a small, brief chuckle—a full-hearted laugh that shreds straight through my soul and heals some of the cracks in my damagedheart.
Just hearing his boisterous chuckle spurs on my own laughter. Before I can stop myself, laughter bubbles up my chest and erupts from my mouth. Hearing my hearty giggles spurs Hugo to laugh even louder. And thus begins the vicious cycle of belly-crunching laughter. We lay next to each other loudly cackling until we don’t even know why we are laughing. Then we laughsomemore.
By the time Hugo wipes the tears from his cheeks and scrambles off the floor, my stomach is riddled with cramps as I’ve laughed more the past twenty minutes than I have the past twelvemonths.
A smile stretches across my face when Hugo thrusts out his hand, offering to assist me off the floor. After settling my erratically beating heart, I accept his offer. A girly squeal emits from my lips from his strengthened tug on my arm. My nipples bud and a shameful, husky moan topples from my mouth when my chest crashes into the hard ridges of his pec muscles. The shift of air between us is so great, they would feel it all the way inthecity.
As Hugo stares down at me, flicking his gaze between my lips and my eyes, I drink him in. Other than the small wrinkles in the corners of his eyes when he smiles, he hasn’t aged a day in five years. His eyes are youthful and full of life. They are identical to Joel’s in every way, the boy who had to grow up without a father the first four years ofhislife.
With a twisted mess of a confused heart, I maneuver out of Hugo’s embrace. I can feel Hugo’s eyes tracking me, but he stays quiet as I gather my bag and cell phone from the newly assembled reception desk in the foyer of myoffice.
“Can I give you a ride home?” Hugo offers, his voicegroggy.
I shake my head. “No, I’m fine. I havemycar.”
I continue gathering my stuff, not trusting myself to spin around. When I look into Hugo’s eyes, I want to pretend the last five years never happened. I want to act like he isn’t the man who shattered my heart and left me broken. I want to stare up at him in awe like Joel does and pretend there is nothing else in the world that matters more than gaining his attention. But that isn’t real life. I’m not a sixteen-year-old girl gushing over her high school crush. I’m also not a twenty-four-year-old naïve virgin seducing a man into her bed. I’m a mom who will do everything in my power to ensure her son’s heart is protected.That my heart isprotected.
“You don’t have your car here, Ava. Remember?” Hugo says, his voicestrained.
I pivot on my heels to face him. My brash movements cause a rush of dizziness to cluster in my sleep-deprivedbrain.
“You asked Belinda to take your car so Joel had a car seat,” Hugo explains to myconfusedface.
Shit, I completelyforgot.
“Come on,” Hugo says, gesturing to the door. “It’s only a lift, Ava, nothing more than a friend offering another friend aridehome.”
He can say that. He isn’t the one who has snuggled into a pillow drenched in his aftershave the past five years just to get a few measly hours of sleep. I’ve been struggling the past six hours to ignore his intoxicating woodsy smell, and that was in the space of an office. Imagine how impossible it will be in the small confines ofacar?
Before I have the chance to answer Hugo’s suggestion, the shrill of a cell phone vibrates through the quiet. The mask of fretfulness that slipped off Hugo’s face thirty minutes ago settles back into place when he realizes the noise is resonating from the pocket of his jeans. His brows furrow as he digs his hand into his pocket to retrieve an outdated silver cell. He flips open the phone and presses it againsthisear.
“Boss,” he greets, his tone packed with apprehension. “Alright.When?”
His eyes snap to mine. They are full to the brim with guilt. I turn my focus to my newly decorated office, pretending my heart is hammering against my ribs from the devastated look crossingHugo’sface.
When he finishes his phone call, he moves to stand in front of me. My eyes travel the length of his body, from his paint-splattered boots to the week-old stubble on his chin. After exhaling a nerve-cleansing breath of air, my eyes finalize their journey, landing on his Marshall family heirlooms: his glistening babyblues.
“I have to go… My job… My boss needs me.” His words sounds as tormented as helooks.
Snubbing the tears pricking in my eyes, I fake a smile and nodmyhead.
“When do you have to go?” I ask, my voicequivering.
He rubs a kink in the back of hisneck. “Now.”
My heart plummets into my stomach as quickly as the first tears escapemyeyes.
“I’ll be back, Ava. I promise you, I’ll be back,”hevows.
He steps closer to me, engulfing me with his delicious scent, making my tears flow even more quickly. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and pulls me into his thrusting chest. His heart is beating so fast, it is pulverizing myeardrum.
“I'll be back. Nothing could keep me away from Joel.From you,” he assures me, locking his eyeswithmine.
The truth in his eyes weakens the stranglehold crippling my heart. He runs the back of his fingers across my cheeks, removing my tears in one quick sweep. Once my face is free of any moisture, he lifts his sorrow-filled eyestomine.
