“I need you inside me.” Her body hums with nervous energy. She tosses a pile of neatly folded towels to the ground, clearing space on a narrow counter set against the wall. There’s a moment of frenzied movement as I hike her skirt to her hips and lift her onto the edge of the counter. Her fingers fumble with my belt, unbuckling it and shoving my pants open enough to free me. Everything happens on instinct, each movement as inexorable as gravity.
Her gaze meets mine, and I know I would do anything to have her look at me this way forever.
I thrust, instantly relieved to be inside her. Adair’s arms coil around my shoulders as she melts against me. For a moment I wonder what I did to deserve her, how I could be lucky enough to be here now with her, promising each other forever with our bodies.
We’re not in a linen closet. We’re in our own special place, entirely within ourselves.
No one can find us here.
We have all the time we need.
And when we come down from our great heights, it is to a world laying at our feet, waiting for us to make it what we will.
“It’s so…much…better,” Adair pants, “that way.”
No, not better.
Perfect.
29
Adair
Present Day
“What is all this, anyway?” Sterling asks, tying his robe while we wait for room service. He glances at the boxes spilling over into the living room.
There’s no danger in him looking, because it’s not here. I’ve been through everything. I wouldn’t have thrown it away, which means Malcolm must have taken it. Despite that, my heart still races. I squash the anxiety down and ignore it. He’ll forgive me when the time comes, and I’ll find it. Sterling will help me. But not today. Today I want to linger in us before dredging up the past. “I was looking for something. I don’t know how much Malcolm has thrown away.”
“He tried to throw away your things? He’s such a dick.” Sterling picks up a paper, his face rife with disgust. If he didn’t like Malcolm before, he despises him now.
“My clothes are in storage somewhere.” I roll my eyes. “It’s so like my brother to toss a framed photo of mom and me away, but keep my prom dress. Sentimentality is lost on my family.”
“But not on you.” He picks up a stack of books and smiles. It’s my old copy of Pride and Prejudice, the one he read and left notes in, along with a Steinbeck I borrowed from him, and the copy of The Great Gatsby he gave me for Christmas five years ago. His eyes flicker dangerously, and I feel my belly tighten. He’s thinking about the past, too, and from the looks of it, feeling rather sentimental.
My ringtone shatters the moment, and I reach for it. “Don’t tell anyone.”
I reject the call as soon as I see the Caller ID. Malcolm’s ears must be burning. “Speak of the devil.”
“I thought I was the devil,” Sterling says, thumbing through Pride and Prejudice.
“This is mine.” He holds up The Grapes of Wrath.
“I’ve been meaning to give it back to you.” My phone rings again and I reject the call.
“How long until room service arrives?” he asks, advancing a step closer.
“It’s usually pretty fast.” I hold up a finger in warning. “So don’t get any ideas. We should wait.”
He lowers his head to nuzzle my neck, his breath tickling across my earlobe. “But the things we shouldn’t do are the most fun.”
How am I going to survive this man? His mouth cruises along my jaw towards my lips, and I’m already resigning myself to cold food when there’s a knock on the door.
“Hold that thought,” he orders me, disappearing to sign for room service.
I tighten my robe and peek over to see it’s Anthony, the poor kid who delivered the wrong screwdriver, with our order. He spots me and looks down at his feet, mumbling something to Sterling as he pushes the cart into the living room.
But I barely notice. The screwdriver. The drawer. I told myself to let it go, but now it occurs to me that my family has always been better at hiding dirty laundry. Maybe there’s a reason that drawer is locked. Maybe there’s a reason my dad left this suite, of all places, to me. I grab a butter knife off the room service cart and carry it to the desk.
“Um, thanks,” Sterling says behind me.
I can feel them both staring at me, but it hardly matters if Anthony thinks I’m nuts. Sterling already knows I am. The suite door shuts and Sterling appears next to me. I continue trying to pry the drawer open. His hand closes over mine. “Allow me.”
He takes the knife and pops the lock so quickly I’m not sure how he does it. We stare at each other for a minute. I don’t know what I’ll find in that drawer. I told him there were things I need to tell him, but what if this is how he finds out?
“I’m tired of secrets,” I say. “I want to tell you everything, but you aren’t going to like all of it.”
“You’re not the only one with bad news,” he says. “Look, I promise to listen, and no matter what you need to tell me, it’s not going to change how I feel about you.”
God, I hope that’s true.
“It might,” I say faintly.
“You might change your mind when I tell you all my secrets,” he reminds me.
“I doubt it.” I don’t just doubt it. I know I won’t. I’m all in. Sterling might have done terrible things in impossible situations. He might have made bad calls. So have I. “We can’t have a future if we keep getting dragged into the past.”
“Then, let’s open the drawer, Lucky.”
I take a deep breath and steel myself for whatever my father felt was so important he locked it in a hotel drawer. I slide
