Page 184 of Love Felt Like This

He’s leaving.

“Oh” is all I get out.

When will I see him again?

Finch elbows me.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to show Griffin out?”

I blink. “Yeah. Um…”

He’s recording every day.

He goes on tour soon.

He’s leaving the country.

I nod in a daze, give a few thank-yous to the suits—Griffin is leaving; Griffin is leaving—and say I’ll be back in a moment.

Their subsequent conversation flows in one ear and out the other as I gather my papers and tuck them under my arm. Griffin swings his guitar onto his back. When we cross the threshold, the air-conditioning chill hits us, sending pinpricks up my neck. Patricia waves behind the receptionist desk, and I try to wave back, but I can barely lift my hand.

Griffin and I stroll down the short hall until we reach the elevator bank. He’s so close yet still too far. My hand reaches out, but I stop short of touching him.

“Thank you,” I whisper, looking over at Patricia. She doesn’t seem to be eavesdropping, but who knows? “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“I didn’t want to stress you out.”

“How’d you know when the meeting was?”

“Jimmy called Finch.”

“He didn’t tell me.”

“Probably didn’t want to stress you out,” he repeats with a smile. “Plus, I shouldn’t get too much credit for altruism. This was a little selfish of me.”

He pushes the elevator call button.

He’s leaving. He’s leaving.

“How so?” I ask.

He gives me a beautiful crooked smile. “I didn’t want to miss you knocking it out of the park.”

My face flushes. A laugh bubbles out of me. “Oh, c’mon…”

“You were perfect.” He leans down, brushing his lips near my ear as he whispers, “You were right. You’re meant to do this. This is your purpose.”

My heart hammers, but my smile fades as the panel above the elevator doors shows the lift slowly reaching our floor.

The pitch went spectacularly, but why doesn’t it feel as good as it should?

My feet itch to walk closer to him. I want to swing my arms around his neck and have his palms circle my waist. I want his warmth. I want him. He’s been in LA for more than two weeks. I want to know what he’s been up to. I want to hear every single detail. How is Ava? How are the guys? Has Jimmy murdered them in the studio yet?

The elevator dings, and the doors slide open.

No. It’s too soon.

My heart is thumping out of my chest.