“Aw, come on,” I giggled, twirling the strings of my bathrobe, “I just got out of the shower.”
He groaned. “You just want to kill me, don’t you? Now I can’t stop thinking of standing there, dripping all over, your hair falling down your—”
“My hair’s actually in a towel mister and give me a minute, I’ll be there.”
He whooped and I laughed. “Just come in the towel, darling.”
My breath hitched and the hand which I put on the bathroom door seized. Darling. He just called me darling, right? He cut the call, yet I stood there, the phone nearly breaking under the force of my grip, my mouth hanging… just like a fool.
It didn’t make sense – how could I become so attracted to someone I met just yesterday?
Richard wasn’t obligated to make this about anything more than sex. So was I being too greedy by wishing that we were… more than now? That this, whatever it was, moved past this weekend and stretched into weeks, possibly months and years?
Darling.
The word rang through my head, accompanied by images of Richard and I holding hands as we walked along streets, arguing about nonsense this moment and kissing each other the next. I wanted to be with him, not just in bed but everywhere else, to know his mind just as well as I knew his body – to love him and be loved by him.
But did he want the same thing? He called me ‘darling’, right? That couldn’t have been a mistake.
If my heart got this unsettled when he called me something as small as ‘darling’, how could I just let him go? How could I keep pretending that I wasn’t falling in love with Richard?
No man but him ever made me feel this way.
All through my life, I’d been the careful kind of girl, the one who loved books more than boys. I never regretted it, but if I let Richard go, I knew I’d regret it till the end of my days.
As I finally got my foot off the ground and went into the room, I got dressed, put on a little makeup, my heart becoming lighter. This could just work. I just had to go to Richard and talk to him. Surely, he felt the same way I did.
I had to tell him. Today was Sunday and the alternative was to remain without saying anything until the weekend was over and I probably never saw him again. No, I clenched my hands in determination, I couldn’t do that.
***
Richard
Oh, Lord. Why? Just why?
I closed my eyes, softly hitting my forehead against the wall. This couldn’t be happening. Not now, not ever and certainly not with her. It was troublesome. I wasn’t ready for this, would never be ready. But here she was making me wish I could undo the last five minutes and un-hear what she just told me.
“Uhm, Richard?” She called me, her voice shaky, but it felt like I was hearing her from the end of a very long tunnel. I couldn’t… “Richard? D-did you hear me? I said I-”
“Please. Leave.” Even to my own ears, my voice sounded harsh. My hands were balled into fists and I had the overwhelming urge to punch something.
“What? Are you serious right now?”
She was also getting angry.
Good.
I needed to make her understand that this… love… could never define what happened between us. We couldn’t ever be in that kind of relationship. Ever. And if the best way to make her understand that was to come off as a cold, unfeeling bastard, then so be it.
“Rachel, it was just sex.” I said, raising my head to stare right into her eyes, willing my resolve not to break under the weight of the tears now visible in her eyes. I needed to do this. For her own good. “If I knew you’d let it get into your head like this, heck, I would have found someone else.”
I heard the quick intake of breath and I knew I’d hit her where it hurt. Turning around, I quickly disguised the look of pain on my face as something indescribable tore through my chest. What the hell was wrong with me?
“I was just a fine piece of ass to you? Y-you never felt any affection for me?”
I couldn’t bear to look at her face now. But it was time to put an end to this mess. “No, Rachel. I never loved you. Never. Now leave.”
Chapter Six
Richard
Taking a swig of the beer before me, I wondered how I found myself in this position. No. A better question would be… why did I agree to come to this meeting? And where the hell was everyone?
After Rachel stormed out of my hotel room last week, I couldn’t bear being there anymore. I’d immediately checked out and booked a flight back. Trying to lose myself in the company business as usual, I told myself again and again that it was over, that I’d forget her and she’d fade into the background like the others.
But she hadn’t.
And by the seventh day, I acknowledged the bitter truth. I was in love with Rachel Ivy.
Now Tom called me twenty minutes ago to another meeting of The Merry Men, where I was supposed to pledge my allegiance to the pact.
In fact, even if I decided to keep silent throughout, at some point, Tom would certainly expect me to say something about the pact I no longer believed in. I couldn’t do that.
But how on earth could I tell him I was in love with his daughter?
The irony of the situation didn’t escape me at all.
“Richard.” Tom’s gruff voice came from behind, alerting me of his presence. I felt a warm but firm hand clamp over my shoulder. “How have you been?”
Fine. Just one word. Fine.
All I needed to do was open my mouth and say it.
Maybe it was because of the alcohol. Or the fact that my chest ached so much with the memory of Rachel and how hurt
