Laurelin Paige - Hudson

I wake Monday more excited than I can ever remember being. Having spent a lifetime pushing down emotions, I’m frequently thrown off guard when I experience one. I’m not prepared for the adrenaline pumping through my veins or the sweat gathering above my brow. I know Alayna isn’t an early riser so I get in a few miles on the treadmill in the Pierce Industries gym before I have to head over to the penthouse to meet her. The run helps calm me.

I wonder if that’s why Alayna loves the sport so much.

At the penthouse, my excitement returns. Or maybe anxiety is a better term. I pace the length of the hallway, up and down, twenty times. A hundred times. It’s unbelievable that she can turn me inside out like this. That she can bring a powerful man like me to my knees. I’m helpless about her. I’m hopeless without her.

While I wait, I try to settle myself by thinking about what I expect from our encounter. It’s akin to creating a hypothesis in an experiment. This time there’s no manipulation though—just predictions. I often do it before an important business meeting, sorting the realistic possible outcomes from the fantastical. It was a trick that Jack taught me, actually.

The dream, of course, is that Alayna will want to try to be a couple again. She’ll accept my mistakes and learn to forgive me. It wouldn’t matter if we stayed at The Bowery or if we got engaged right away. The dream is that we’re together, period.

But that’s not a practical prediction. I slow my pace as I imagine what’s likely. She’ll arrive, she’ll see the empty house, and she may feel uncomfortable. She’ll refuse my offer to let her stay here with Liesl—she’s too independent to take what would be perceived as a handout. But she’ll see yet another demonstration of how my life just doesn’t work without her. And maybe I’ll win a pity date.

I could handle that scenario.

There’s another scenario though. One I don’t want to think about. Now, for the first time since our breakup, I imagine her without me. I test the idea softly with my mind, focusing on what that life would mean for her. She’s strong and healthy. She’s in control of her emotions. She runs The Sky Launch and makes it one of the hottest clubs in town. She’s happy. She finds someone to love her—someone who doesn’t lie to her, someone who isn’t so bossy. Someone transparent and open.

It’s a good outcome for her. But I can’t hold on to that image. It doesn’t resonate in my mind. Because I know Alayna. I know that she will settle for less than she’s worth. She’s too worried about her obsessive tendencies to put herself out there. She thinks she’s a burden to men, so she folds herself up and inward. Closes herself off.

If I could be convinced that her future would play out better without me, then I would walk away, despite the fact that it would kill me. I would let her go. I know I don’t deserve her more than anyone else, but there is no doubt in my mind that we belong together. We fit together. We fix each other. We make each other whole.

It’s this conviction that makes me realize it doesn’t matter what happens today. I’ll see Alayna. We’ll move forward in some way, and whether we take baby steps or leaps and bounds, we’ll be headed in the right direction. Together.

My pacing has me near the bedroom when I hear her arrive. The ding of the elevators sends my heart into my throat, and my mouth goes dry. Cautiously, I duck out of sight. It’s quiet so I can hear her gasp as she realizes the place is empty.

I give her a minute to acclimate. Or I give myself a minute to get it together. Either way, eventually, I find my way to her.

She’s in the library, standing over the boxes of books that I’ve given her. We chitchat and it’s safe. The way she looks at me, though, is anything but safe. Her eyes travel greedily up and down my body, and it’s all I can do not to take her up on what her body language is proposing.

Thinking of Mirabelle ends my contemplation of inappropriate advances. Besides that the thought of my sister is a turn-off, she had so wisely pointed out that I was not just trying to get laid. So I’m a good boy. And Alayna’s a good girl with a wicked smile.

“I didn’t expect you to be here,” she says after another round of ogling. Her tone suggests she’s not upset. If I had to bet, I’d say she’s even happy about it. Steps in the right direction.

“You didn’t say I couldn’t be.” There’s nowhere else I’d be today.

“It was implied,” she teases.

“You don’t seem that horribly pissed to see me.” My eyes meet hers, and they dare her to deny it.

She bites her lip, and I can tell she’s warring with herself. I can read her so well, but there’s still so much I don’t know that goes on in her beautiful mind. If only I could know right now what she’s thinking.

But she’s not willing to let me in there again. Not yet. She changes the subject. “Where is everything?”

“Your stuff is still all here.”

“But where’s your stuff?”

I’m not sure I’m ready to let the easiness of our banter go. I take a deep breath. Then, ready or not, I tell her, “I can’t live here without you, Alayna.”

She attempts to hide a frown and fails. “So you’re moving out?”

The idea seems to bother her. Good. It bothers me, too. “Actually, I hope I’m moving in.”

“H, you confuse me enough without you trying to be confusing.” Exasperation lies under her words. “Could you say something I can understand?”

“I confuse you?”

“Is this a surprise?”

I shrug. I’d forgotten how fun it is to tease her. I’ve missed it.

“So you’re moving in?” she prompts, her hands gesturing in the air, perhaps as a substitution for throttling me.

She’s losing her patience now, and that’s not what I want. I answer her question. “One day. I hope. But for now, I want you to live here.”

“What?” Her expression turns irritated and her tone weary.

She thinks I don’t understand what she wants from me. But I do. She doesn’t want me to flaunt my money or give her ridiculously expensive gifts.

It’s me who’s misunderstood. I’m not trying to buy her love. I simply want to know that she’s taken care of. And I want her in our home.

As best as I can, I try to make her understand. “I can’t live here without you, precious. But I don’t want to sell it, because I love being here with you. Someday, you and I will be here again. While I’m waiting for you—scratch that—while I’m groveling for your forgiveness, it’s a shame to let it sit empty. You and Liesl should move in.”

“I can’t accept that, H.” But she seems less angry now.

“I had a feeling you’d say that. Then it will have to sit.” I’d known she wouldn’t accept. I still had to offer.

She bites her lip as if working out a problem in her head—God, how I want to suck on that lip—then she suggests, “You could rent it out.”

“I could rent it out to you.”

Alayna laughs, and every dark cloud in the sky scatters. I’ll do anything to keep that smile on her face. Anything to keep the flirting and the warmth that passes between us. We tease like this, back and forth, her smile remaining, her eyes gleaming. The day is already worth it just because I got to see the sun in Alayna’s face.

She asks me again, “Seriously, though, where’s all your stuff? Did you get another place?”

I shake my head. “I gave it all to a charity fundraiser.” This is true. For the most part. Minus the pieces I destroyed.

“Lifestyles of the rich and famous,” she teases.

As much as we’re both enjoying the playfulness—it’s obvious she is as much as I am—there are still mountains between us. There are still things to say and explain. We have wounds that need dressing and scars that haven’t finished forming.