Page 100 of Feel It in the Air

A knock on my door startles me, pulling me from my thoughts. I glance down at my phone, my lock screen surprisingly empty. Meaning it’s Alex or Marisela trying to get me to join them at Pour Decisions. No doubt they’ve heard by now. Everyone else seems to have. The group chats I’ve been added to—yes, plural. One with Dolly, Alice, Emily, and Rose, and then another with Willa and Bronwyn—have been blowing up all afternoon. Plus messages from Brenna.

For something that was supposed to remain a confidential HR matter, it sure seems to get around town quick.

The only person I haven’t heard from is Gus, something I’m sure is by design. My lawyer brain tells me that my exact advice to a client would be to not contact the other involved in the case. Especially when accused of an inappropriate relationship.

I can’t help but wish this was one of the rules he’d choose to break, however.

Padding over to the door, I open it, my excuse of “not feeling well, maybe another night” locked and loaded. Until I see who’s waiting for me on the other side.

Gus.

The universe stops on a dime, everything falling away, except him and me. My heart thunders, the sound of my pulse filling my ears, drowning out the rest of the world. I’m too stunned to speak, the words getting caught in my throat like stones through a sifter.

“Hey pretty girl.”

The quirk of a smile awakens something in me, making my stomach flip. Warmth spreads through me and there is no use in fighting it. That strong jaw and those deep-green eyes are my kryptonite.

“Gus…”

“May I come in?”

He nods, gesturing behind me, my wide-open studio apartment on display. Stupefied, I try to answer. I still can’t believe he’s here. This is absolutely inadvisable, and there’s a part of me that wants to tell him that. Push him out the door and hold fast to rules.

But another part—a bigger part—knows this might be the last time we get to be together. No, that it’s probably the last time we’ll get together. As us. Because in order for either of us to come out of this whole thing unscathed, there is only one thing to do.

The universe just handed you the answer…

That can wait though.

“Depends,” I tell him, smiling through the pain. “Do you plan on selling me something, askin’ about my relationship with the Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, or mansplainin’ anything to me in any way?”

Gus laughs, the tinge in his jaw relaxing. “No, ma’am. But I brought tacos.”

Holding up a handled, brown paper bag, he turns his puppy-dog eyes on me, and I know there will be no resisting him now. Especially with tacos involved.

I step aside, letting him in, and make my way over to couch, grabbing the pint of ice cream and putting on the lid to get it back in the freezer before it melts. I am not letting this bad boy go to waste. Not when I’m going to need it later. And probably another.

“Hittin’ the hard stuff already?” Gus tries to joke, but it falls flat.

“Cherry Garcia has gotten me through a lot tough moments.” I slam the freezer door, holding my hand there for a moment longer than needed, trying to find the courage to do what I need to do. “Half a dozen breakups and this guy I met in an airport not calling me, for example.”

“I’d like to think that last guy redeemed himself.”

“He did.”

Sucking in a breath, I turn, but Gus is by my side in no time flat. One arm around my waist, the other cupping my cheek, he runs his thumb slowly across my skin, sending a shiver through me. I lean into him, enjoying the feel of his body flush with mine. Safety and comfort surround me as he holds me, not saying a word, letting the moment be.

One last moment.

There is so much I want to say. Do. I want to tell him how I feel. How I really feel. I want to kiss him until he understands the depth of those feelings and until we both can’t breathe. Get lost in each other until nothing else exists. Until everything that is going on outside of these walls goes away.

But that would be a mistake. Because there is something else I have to do instead.

“Margeaux,” he whispers, breaking the silence. Leaning back slightly, his gaze catches mine, and I see it. The same pain I’m feeling.

“It’s inadvisable for you to be here.”

Breaking free, I walk over to the couch, grabbing the bag of tacos to start unpacking. At least if I keep my hands busy, I might be able to hold it together.