Page 33 of When We Had Forever
“Really.”
“Jesus.” He grins. “My heart’s going about a million miles an hour right now. I feel like I just won the lottery.”
I smile back, touched by his open vulnerability. He keeps surprising me with that. “Who knows? Maybe you did.”
He laughs and climbs off me, then pulls me to my feet. We manage to while away half the afternoon beneath the falling water, sifting through sparkling pebbles until our lips turn blue. When it’s time to swim back, I cling to him again, stealing his heat and gifting him some of my own.
We surface in the hillside pool and float, nose to nose. Still, he doesn’t kiss me.
I both love and hate this game, I decide. Mostly hate. I start counting the minutes, wondering how many I’ll have to endure before he finally puts an end to my longing.
Back at the car, we sprawl on the Audi’s hood while the sun bakes the wetness from our skin. After we discreetly change back into dry clothes, Michael points the car south.
“Where to now?” I ask.
He lifts my hand and kisses my fingers. The resulting zing reaches my marrow.
“Home,” he says.
I smile at that word.Home.
Because the craziest thing is, I feel like I’m already there.
When Michael unlocks the door to his—our—Seattle condo, I do a double take.
Holy shit. This guy is loaded.
He ushers me into a wonderland of glass and concrete perched nineteen stories above the ground. A wall of windows overlooks the waterfront. Outside, lights glitter. Boats bob. Beyond the rim of the Pacific, a yellow flush warms the sky.
I soak it all in with widened eyes.
Michael stays close. “Well? What do you think?”
I spin a slow circle, feeling like I’ve strayed into that movie where the unsuspecting teenager finds out she’s actually a princess, complete with her very own castle. “It’s incredible. Youlivehere?”
I expect him to puff with pride, but he gives me a sober look. “You like it?”
“I love it.” When he doesn’t answer, I frown. “But why do you look like you kind of wish I didn’t?”
“Sorry. It’s not that. It’s just...you look natural here. Like you belong in a place like this.”
“With you,” I say, in hopes of chasing away the odd tension.
A ghostlike smile flits across his lips. “That’s the hope.”
Before I can respond, he turns and totes my purple bag through the door of what I can only presume is the bedroom.
Not quite ready to crossthatthreshold just yet, I wander, reminding myself that this must be strange for him. He’s just moved in with a girl he met yesterday. Of course he’d need a moment to adjust.
I’ll grant him as many as he needs.
The condo boasts an open layout—the kitchen flows into both dining and living room, where chrome floor lamps and sleek electronics bookend black leather sofas. On a granite-topped island, a stack of mail sits unopened, as if Michael has just returned from an extended absence.
My brow furrows as my conversation with Sarah and Brooke comes floating back. Michael can’t have gone anywhere recently—they made it clear he’s spent the past month at the office. Moodier than usual, maybe, butthere.
A thought occurs, and I surreptitiously flip through the mail. Maybe Michael’s just gone through a breakup, and that’s what has thrown him out of sorts at work. Maybe I’m not actually the first girl he’s lived with, and that’s why he looked so taken aback when we first walked in.
Maybe he’s saving this mail for someone else.
