he deserves to welcome that back without my presence as a distraction.

It is time for me to leave, for good. I did what I needed to do here in Australia. I’ve answered the burning questions of my paternity and visited the ghosts of my past by confronting Oliver. I even succumbed to my desire to be close to him—the shower incident based on spontaneity.

Yet, deep down inside, I know my heart can only withstand so much. I’ve built a wall, a defense mechanism to fight the turmoil of saying goodbye to Oliver.

It isn’t easy to leave even when it’s the only option available. In so many ways, Oliver and I are like fire and ice. We were never truly in sync with each other. If I force my stay, Oliver will end up resenting me. His focus needs to be solely on him.

And I need to continue my reign on freedom, find myself in a world full of endless possibilities.

The tiles under my feet gleam white. No matter where I turn, people are milling around. There are several duty-free stores, so many choices depending on your taste. The high-end stores are not as busy, but there are a few shoppers, mainly older ladies with cash to burn on designer handbags and expensive jewelry.

There’s a glass elevator leading to an upper floor which has the appearance of a first-class lounge. The irony of traveling economy is not lost on me.

In the middle of the open area are several tables and brown leather lounges.

I’ve perused a few of the stores, purchasing a small stuffed koala bear to keep as a souvenir. With still some time to pass, I make my way toward the terminal to sit and pull out the book I’m currently reading. With my book on my lap, my mind refuses to focus, so I place it back in my bag, watching my surroundings.

People walk around the terminal so differently. Some almost skip, eager expressions at the thought of leaving for another shore. Others—mainly men in business suits—walk as if they’re boarding a rundown bus, no more exciting than any other commute.

Then there are the nervous ones, quick steps and stern expressions, everything about them tight and fearful. A mother with four kids is at her wit’s end trying to calm her overactive older children while her husband is wrestling with a toddler.

“Honey, did you pack the pacifier?”

The husband’s face drops, the wife instantly riddled with panic.

“Yes. Here take Joshua, and I’ll check the bag.”

I’m fascinated by this family. I can barely remember packing my own stuff let alone for a family of six. The husband has pulled everything out of the bag, and after several minutes, a raised voice from the wife, the two the older boys getting into an argument over an iPad charger, the pacifier is held into the air like the holy grail.

“You know, over a million people walk these terminals per day. That’s a lot of people watching.”

The corners of my lips turn up, the voice spreading warmth throughout my entire body.

“Psychologists say that observing people unleashes your inner self-doubt making you less conscious about your actions or appearance.”

“Is that in the book you’re reading with the old lady on the front?” Oliver deadpans, grabbing it from me to read the blurb. “Geez, Gabs, where’s the saucy fifty shades of whatever you women are supposed to be masturbating over?”

“What are you doing here?” I ask, turning to face him.

Oliver does the same, placing the book back down on my lap.

“Here’s the thing… you said you want it all. Please define all?”

“Olly…”

He places his hand on mine, caressing my skin softly. Suddenly, my defenses are crumbled pieces of paper unable to be put back together. Gently biting my lip, I gaze into his deep green eyes, my breath temporarily bottling up in my chest, lost in his longing stare.

“Gabriella, I love you. I haven’t stopped loving you. Even when I was angry and hated you, I still loved you. It’s quite a bind to be in.”

“But… but…”

“I’ve been an arrogant fool,” he admits, stalling as his voice begins to croak. “I’ve let my own insecurities derail us of what could be.”

I run my finger against his cheek watching his eyes closing with contentment.

“Not an arrogant fool, an arrogant Aussie.” I smile, studying the way his face reacts to my touch.

Oliver opens his eyes, a grin spreading across his beautiful face unable to be contained. Before I can draw in the air my body needs, we both lean forward, and he grazes his lips against mine.

The world around us begins to fall away. Our kiss is slow and soft, the perfect type of kiss from the man who owns all of me. His hand rests below my ear with the tip of his thumb caressing my cheek as our breaths mingle. I place my hand on his chest, desperate to feel his beating heart.

I pull back slightly, our noses touching. “I love you, Olly.”

“I love you, Gabs.”

I laugh at the name, only to stop and realize people are people watching us. An applause erupts, a flush creeping across my cheeks from the unwanted attention.

“We’re being people watched,” I whisper.

“Karma.” Olly grins, caressing my face with the back of his hand. “She’s such a bitch sometimes.”

I laugh heartily and keep moving my hand on his thigh.

“So many questions,” I sputter, momentarily beyond words. “How did you even… you know what, you’re here. But what now? My plane leaves in an hour?”

In his typical arrogant triumph, he smirks, narrowing his eyes followed by a slight tilt of his head. His mind is conjuring up something wicked, something that will most probably get us into trouble. Something naughty and foolish. I wait with bated breath.

“I’m not letting you go again. So, I don’t care where we go as long as we’re together.”

“But you have soccer… and I have work.”

“Consider your vacation time extended for another week.”

“I can’t do that,” I reply, disappointed. “Aubrey needs me.”

“Aubrey is busy getting her

Вы читаете Arrogant Aussie
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату