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He stared at her in disbelief. “I thought you believed in seeing where life takes you… staying open to possibilities.”
She huffed a laugh. “I thought I did too. But I’ve accepted I’m a coward, Oliver. All I want, it seems, is for my life to be safe and predictable.”
Somehow, he was missing something. It didn’t fit. And yet, seeping into his cells like the tide was the old Oliver, the one that knew there was an unfaltable logic to her words.
With his free hand, he tugged at his collar.
“God, Felicity. I really like you.” As a declaration, that was totally inadequate. He tried again. “I’m so attracted to you it makes me dizzy when I’m near you.” Still not nearly enough. “I… I feel we get each other…”
Spectacularly inadequate.He stared at her fingers, touching his. “Does it have to be this complicated?”
She let go of his hand, stood up suddenly. “No, Oliver. It doesn’t. It really doesn’t. We can say goodbye like two grown-up people who’ve had the most wonderful time together, and… you know, if ever you’re in London and don’t mind staying with a flea-bitten cat and my off-beat housemates, then you are always welcome. As a friend.”
As. A. Friend.
Slam.
But not this, notlovers.
He stood too, moved to hold her and she swayed into his arms, laid her head on his chest. They stood like this for so many beats of their hearts, and Oliver was aware of his rasping breath. And a longing, so strong, so painful, to shed his skin and lose himself, raw and naked in her.
But how could he verbalise that? After only two months.
“At least tell me truthfully it’s not because of Leonie,” was all he murmured into her hair.
“It’s not. It’s me. I want this to stay perfect.”
He barked a harsh laugh. “Ironic, isn’t it? You wanting perfection?”
“Guess my theory was wrong.” She raised her face to his, eyes glistening with unshed tears. They laughed, almost cried, foreheads touching. And then their lips found one another’s. Just for a beat. Drenched with longing and sadness and… being such sensible adults.
“You’re not really leaving today,” he whispered against her cheek.
“I really am.”
An animal groan caught deep in his throat. “I’ll take you to the airport.”
“No, I’d rather go alone.”
Oliver braced. Every muscle in his body coiled tight, as though he must pull every cell into line to stop them from shattering into a zillion pieces. Bury every emotion in some deep, dark place inside him.
And, ah yes, of course.This.
He knew this feeling. Like he wasn’t quite real.
Thiswas how you survived.
He let her go. She stroked his cheek briefly with her knuckles.
“You have a meeting with Beau today, about the book, don’t you?”
He nodded, words impossible.
“You can’t change that. It’s important. All your hard work is close to fruition. And the good thing is, we won’t look like all those mushy romcom movies, tearily farewelling at the airport.”
He shook his head, his jaw working. Finally, he managed, “I’ll call you. When you’re home. You’ll be okay with that?”
“Yes.”
