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I hand Selene her room key and we head for the stairs.
“What do we do now?” she asks.
“You look exhausted, so why don’t you go lie down,” I say. “I’ll wait down here for a while and see if she comes through the lobby.”
“God, Braxton, she could be anywhere,” Selene says.
“I know. We’ll find her.”
She takes a deep breath. “Okay, call me if you see her.”
“I will.”
Selene takes my backpack and goes upstairs. I find a chair that gives me a good view of the lobby and front entrance. I’m tired as shit, but I don’t want to miss her if she walks by.
***
I wake up with a start. Fuck, I fell asleep in the damn lobby. I check my phone, but I don’t have any calls or texts. It’s five-thirty. I must have been out for about an hour. I hope I didn’t miss her. I guess there’s not much chance that she would walk by and not see me—except that she’s not expecting me to be here. I hope the front desk got my note to her room. She’ll see it’s my handwriting. She’ll have to know I’m here.
I should probably stay in one place and wait for her to come to me, but after ten minutes, I can’t stand it anymore. It’s stupid to think I can wander around this huge city and actually find her—but fuck it, I need to do something, not just sit on my ass. I consider waking Selene so she can come do lobby duty, but I decide to let her sleep. She’d probably just fall asleep in the chair like I did. An overnight flight and an eight-hour time difference are no joke.
Walking aimlessly through London isn’t going to cut it, so I think about what I know. Where would Kylie go? What would she want to see? I pull up some travel info on my phone, pick a few places that sound right, and head out into the cold.
The sun is already down; the clear sky is going to make for a freezing night. I have a coat, but I pop into a shop and buy a dark gray hat and scarf, and a pair of black leather gloves. I’ve been to London once before, and navigating around the city comes back to me pretty quickly. I take the tube, coming up at various places where I think I might find her. I check my phone way too often, hoping she’ll get my note and call.
I try to ignore the fact that she could easily get my note and not call.
I stop in another shop and buy her an adapter so she can charge her fucking phone.
By nine, I’m starving, so I grab some food and take it back to the hotel. Selene is up and showered. She asks how my evening went, but I don’t have anything to show for it except sore feet.
“So, what should we do?” Selene asks after we finish eating. “Watch for her in the lobby?”
I check the time. It’s just after ten. Still no call.
“How about you hang out downstairs and keep watch,” I say. “I can’t sit down there doing nothing. I’ll go nuts. I have a couple more ideas.”
“Okay, if that’s what you think is best.”
I leave Selene in the lobby and head out into the cold. I pass a few pubs with New Year’s Eve parties starting up, but I don’t see Kylie. I keep telling myself my instincts are going to lead me to her, but I strike out everywhere I go.
I take the tube again to a different part of the city. I find a place that serves coffee and warm up for a little while. Even all bundled up, I’m fucking freezing. Selene texts me once to check in, but she hasn’t seen her. There’s a party going on in the hotel bar, and Selene reports doing a couple laps through the crowd to see if Kylie is there, but so far, no luck.
I’m starting to think Selene was right. We should have just waited until she came home. Mr. Winters said she’s flying home tomorrow anyway. It would have been a hell of a lot easier—and cheaper—to just wait. Maybe I am crazy.
But I couldn’t wait. I still can’t. The clock is ticking toward midnight, and I’m overcome with a deep sense of urgency. If I let her start the new year without me, I’m afraid I’ll end it without her. Afraid my chance will be gone.
I think about where we were a year ago. I remember her at my sister’s party—standing in the kitchen, dressed in that hot little black dress and sexy red heels, ditched by whatever jackass Selene set her up with. I almost kissed her, right then. I was probably drunk, and it would have been a stupid thing to do. I was dating someone else at the time. I knew she’d been counting on starting her year off right. We’d talked the day before about resolutions and making changes. In the back of my mind, the thought bloomed: What if this was our year? What if next New Year’s Eve I was the one kissing her?
I almost had it. And now my chance is ticking away with every minute.
That’s when it hits me.
Big Ben. She wanted to watch it hit midnight.
I rush out of the restaurant to the nearest tube station. Fuck, how do I get there? I look at the map, figuring out the route, and board the right train.
I check the time. Eleven forty-two. Shit. How long is this going to take?
