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She smiles fondly. “Yeah. Me neither. I guess some thingscanchange, huh?”
“It sure does. I still want to know why we had such a rocky start to begin with. I’m not buying the whole trouble making thing. I know there’s something else.”
Her smile falters slightly, and I feel guilty as hell for bringing it up again. “Alright, since you’re so eager to know. You might want to hold on to something for this one, though. It’s complicated.” She pauses for a minute, watching me carefully, but when I just nod encouragingly she launches right into it. “We kinda met at a bar about six months ago. We hit it off quite nicely. I was just recovering from a heartbreak and well, there you were…looking the way you do.” I laugh, embarrassed, and she continues. “Wait, you don’t remember?”
I meet so many women at so many places, it’s damn near impossible for me to remember all of them. I shrug my shoulders noncommittally, keeping the expression neutral on my face so she continues.
She takes a minute or two to think about how she wants to word what happened next. I can see her mentally going over it in her mind as she takes a sip of her champagne. Then she sighs heavily and looks directly at me, eyes piercing like lasers. “So…we got talking that night. One thing led to another and we had a one night stand. Best sex of my life I must say, or… maybe it was just the alcohol?”
She wouldn't be the first to compliment me for my skills in the sack. I’m a pro at what I do after all.
She laughs, but it isn’t her usual tinkling laughter, which always makes me want to laugh along. This is an actual chuckle that sounds a little forced, and I suddenly know exactly where this story is going and it’s not going to end well. “Turns out you didn’t feel the same way. I woke up the next morning with a note that read,"good sex but I’ve had better.”
I finish the sentence in my head before she does. Back then, I felt it was the perfect way to sign out after a one night stand. Why? I still have no idea. Maybe because I wanted one night stands to remain exactly what they were. The note leaves a sour taste so that means whatever feelings the lady might have would be dead and buried. On the basis of this evidence, it worked to a treat. But thinking back at all the ladies I might have hurt with my shenanigans, I can’t help but feel really bad about it.
Lily continues, oblivious to my inner turmoil. “It’s all in the past now anyways. I’m getting to see a different side to you. And I like it. You’re not so bad after all.”
“Lily I’m so sorry,” I tell her, reaching across the table to put my hand on hers. I stare intently at her face, searching for some sign that she’ll accept my apology. After a second she gives me a small smile, squeezing my hand in return. “Again, it’s all in the past. No offense taken.”
I smile back and let our hands drop apart. “Well, thanks for telling me anyway. I appreciate that.”
We share a laugh as if nothing is wrong at all and I lean back in my chair. I still feel terrible about the situation and wish I could fix it, but how?
“Hey!” Lily says, poking me in the arm. “It’s fine, I promise. We’re good now. You giving me this job is helping me so much- you have no idea. I mean, I am sitting in a private jet, on my way to Paris! This is mind blowing.”
She stretches her hand across the table again, palm facing up, inviting me to take her hand. I reach for her fingers, threading them between mine. Her grip is soft, warm. I can’t help feeling a bit reassured by it, calming my nerves somewhat.
“Bygones?” She tells me, eyes sparkling.
I smile. “Sure. Bygones.”
Chapter18
Lily
We finally arrive in Paris. Liam has us booked in a luxurious two-bedroom penthouse suite near the Eiffel Tower. The view from the roof terrace is breathtaking. I can barely take it all in. It’s beautiful here. I could live here forever, even if only in my dreams.
Today and the next few days are mine to enjoy. No family problems, no nagging mom. Just good vibes. Liam is somewhere in the studio below working on the terrace, touching up a painting to add to his collection for the art exhibition. Maybe it’s just me, but things have been awkward between us since we got here. I could count on one hand the number of words we’ve said to each other since the flight.
Telling him about our ‘history’ was a bad idea, only it’s too late for take-backs. I’m bored out of my mind sitting around and doing nothing. Even the television can’t keep my attention for more than a minute. So here I am, on my way to see Liam despite my promise to not bother him. The door to the terrace opens automatically when I press the button next to it and I slip outside into the night’s cool air.
Liam’s silhouette is visible across the glass wall as he stands by the railing of the roof. He looks lost in thought. His face is illuminated by the faint moonlight that streams through the windows and reflects off his smooth creamy skin. There’s something so peaceful about his posture and his expression as he stares out at the city. It’s almost captivating. Liam turns, catches sight of me and smiles broadly, as if noticing me for the first time. He doesn’t look nearly as upset as I had anticipated he’d be.
“Hi.” He calls out.
I walk over to him slowly, trying to ignore how nice the breeze feels against my face after being cooped up inside. I lean casually on the railing near where he’s standing.
“Hey.” I return softly.
Liam watches me expectantly, waiting for me to say something else. After what seems like an eternity I clear my throat and ask him about the painting he was working on.
He laughs quietly, shakes his head and shrugs his broad shoulders. “What painting?”
I raise my brows, puzzled. “The painting you said you had to finish before the exhibition tomorrow.”
Liam smirks knowingly. “I dropped it. I couldn’t focus.”
There it is again, that unreadable smile that gives nothing away. “Is this about the conversation we had earlier?”
