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I increase my pace, despite the fact that my heels are killing me. A few minutes into our jog, we leave the factory premises behind and enter an office building.
"Wow, these really look comfortable," I say sarcastically, staring at the open space, full of desks and chairs. "And special. How’s this better than the factory?"
"There is no one here."
"What?" I ask, suddenly out of breath. "There were people . . . in the factory?"
He finally stops and I take up the opportunity to lean on a desk and give my feet some relief.
"Don’t worry, no one was watching us,” he says, leaning on the door in front of me. "You didn't think that those rivers would just run the entire night, did you?"
"Right," I mumble. I hadn't given any thought to that. "What friend owns this who would just hand you the keys so we can barge inside in the middle of the night?"
"My family," he smirks.
"You've got your own chocolate factory?" I grin. "You just became the runner-up to being the most awesome person ever."
"Who's got first place?"
"Like I'd tell you."
"Then maybe this will get me number one," he says and pushes open the door behind him.
I expect to find a fancy office, possibly with a mahogany desk and maybe even a lush couch. James doesn't turn on any light, so the only wisp of light in the pitch dark comes from outside the corridor. But it's enough for me to realize that the room couldn't look less like an office.
There is a large bed in the middle of the room—an air mattress, I suspect, but I can't be sure with all the silky covers on it.
James takes my hand and leads me to the bed, gesturing me to sit on it. It really is an air mattress. I watch confused as he walks over to a cabinet. For a few moments I think he's searching for something on its surface, and then I gasp, because he steps aside, revealing a candle. One by one, he lights up twelve candles around the room. My heart gives a jolt with each tiny flame, and I can't do anything but stare at him because I am truly at a loss for words.
When he returns, I get up and put my arms around his neck. They're trembling. As is the rest of me.
"This is perfect," I manage to say.
"You are perfect," he whispers, cupping my face with one hand.
"I am not," I murmur.
"You are perfect, Serena. That's why I—" He stops dead, his eyes fixed on a point on my neck.
A sudden chill creeps up my spine. "That's why you what?"
"I couldn't get you out of my mind," he says, still not raising his gaze. "I went to that bar with Parker and all I was doing was talking about you, and I…"
The chill transforms into a torturous shiver because I know where this is going.
"I don't want to hear this."
"I got scared, Serena. Of what I was feeling, and I—"
"Thought sleeping with Sophie might change that?" I ask bitterly. Why does he want to ruin this night?
"Yes." He takes a deep breath, finally looking up at me. "I wanted to convince myself that you weren't… that I wasn't…"
He grabs me by the waist abruptly, bringing me inches away from his lips. "I was scared
. Confused."
"And now you aren't anymore?" I whisper.
