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“Come on.” She stands and tugs on my hand, leading me up the stairs where we stumble through a doorway into a large suite.
She yanks my shirt off and tosses it to the floor. Then pulls off her own clothes before pressing against me and kissing me again. I wrap my arms around her warm body, hugging her close in the dark room. I shed my jeans and join her on the bed, realizing too late that I left on my briefs. I kiss her one last time before I lay back and close my eyes, a big smile on my face, and dream of vanilla and Ellie Palmer.
chapter 22
Five years later
Ellie
I barely have time to fish my new mobile out of my pocket before it goes to voicemail.
“Hello?” I answer, out of breath from rushing around my flat getting dressed.
“Hey love. I wanted to catch you before you went into work.”
“James, you’re too charming for your own good.” I grab my handbag and head out the door, locking the two separate dead bolts behind me.
“Well, what kind of fiancé would I be if I didn’t check on my girl on her first day as a real nurse.”
“You’re a wonderful fiancé and you know it.” I laugh and hurry down the busy street towards the tube station.
“Are you excited?” He sounds genuinely interested in how I’m doing.
“A little,” I admit. “Listen, I have to go. I’m going down into the tube and I don’t want to miss my train.”
“Alright love. Ring me later?” I smile, picturing him with his feet up on his desk in the Islington office of the London Metropolitan Police, probably twirling his pen between his fingers as we speak. He made detective a few months ago, so no more street cop for him.
“I will James, don’t worry about me. Go catch some bad guys.”
He laughs, “Not a problem. Love you, El.”
I swallow down the lump that forms in my throat every time he tells me he loves me. “You too. Gotta go!” I hang up my phone and push through the turnstile, hurrying to the platform in a sad attempt to distance myself from the direction my mind is wandering.
The bustling morning crowd serves as a wonderful distraction for my torturous thoughts. Instead of thinking about James and how perfect he is, if not a little overprotective, and how he should be with someone who can love him the way he deserves, I watch a posh woman in a business suit apply her makeup using a tiny compact mirror. I giggle when another waiting passenger bumps her and her lipstick smudges across her cheek.
The train arrives and I manage to grab an open seat. It’s only a ten-minute ride, but I’ll be standing all day and my nerves have my legs shaking already. I’ve finally finished my degree, having taken six years to complete instead of the usual four due to unforeseen circumstances. Now, being a real working nurse with an actual grown up job at the University College Hospital, is both exciting and terrifying. All of my efforts and long hours of hard work and studying have finally paid off.
I turn my new smartphone over and over in my hand, doing my best to ignore the Google function that calls to me like a fix to a drug addict. When James gave me the fancy phone for my graduation last month, he almost certainly never imagined that I’d use it to keep tabs on my ex-boyfriend and his band, stalking their every move and reading every article.
Pathetic as I am, I’m unable to stop myself and quickly type out Sphere of Irony, waiting impatiently for the internet to bring up the results. I scan the latest news and wonder which articles will lift my spirits and which will further wound my battered and shredded heart. I skim through a few useless bits about their new album, and a report about some sales record they broke.
Scrolling down, my eyes land on an entertainment piece about the band and my breath hitches in my chest.
Sphere of Irony to play Wembley Stadium in October.
I squeeze my eyes shut and attempt to calm my racing pulse. How does Adam still have this much power over me? We were together for six months, and it ended six years ago, and reading his name still destroys me.
I would think that traveling all the way to the U.S. to see him, only to have him tell me off in a drunken stupor at some big Hollywood producer’s house party, would put me off of Adam Reynolds forever. My heart, however, has other plans. It absolutely refuses to let go of my first love, and if I’m being honest with myself, my only love. I care about James and the few other guys I’ve dated, but I’ve only ever loved Adam.
When the train stops and announces our arrival at Euston Square, I hop up and dash out of the station, willing my nerves to calm and the tears that I still shed for that bastard to stay away.
The loud knocking on my front door startles me while I dry my hair. My mind has been so frazzled and the anxieties so persistent, that I’ve been on edge for the last few days. I turn off the hairdryer and hurry to answer it, unlocking the chain and the locks after checking the peephole to see who’s there.
“What on earth took you so long, Ellie? You scared the shit outta me!” James barges into my flat and gives me an incredulous look.
“I’m sorry. I was drying my hair. I must not have heard you,” I explain.
He rubs his eyes tiredly and the worry lines on his face fall away. “Sorry, love. I didn’t mean to yell.” He steps over to me and pulls me into his arms, hugging me tight.
