1. Eloise
1
ELOISE
PRESENT - SIX YEARS LATER
“ G et a grip, Eloise,” I say as I let my fingertips brush over the cold metal knob. “It’s just an empty condo. He’s not here.”
I can still walk away. I don’t have to go inside; going in will change everything. That’s why I’m hesitating now. This moment has been years in the making, at least in my mind. I suppose it’s what’s causing my trepidation now. We’re rarely given the chance to live our dreams, and there’s a lot of pressure in stepping into that reality, especially when the dream has been so beautiful. If this fails, all the what-ifs, the hope, the maybes, and alternate endings are gone with it. But that’s not even the worst part of it. All that hoping and wishing is no longer squarely mine. The stakes are higher now, and it’s that last thought that has me finding my nerve to turn the knob.
As the door swings open, I see a breathtaking view of the harbor and the Toronto Islands. Leaving my luggage by the door, I head straight for the wall of windows. It’s so beautiful. The sun’s setting rays reflect off the water, creating a serene picture I could get lost in for hours. I’d love to paint it and etch it into my memory forever. There’s something so cathartic about nature, but more so this view at this precise moment because it reminds me of home back in Copper Falls. I place my hand on the glass, and the move pulls me away from the view in front of me and back to the room I’m in when I catch the reflection of the recessed lighting behind me. I slowly turn and look around the dimly lit space. It’s nice, more than I expected. I’ve never been to Toronto, yet something about this place feels familiar, maybe because I’ve seen shots of the skyline countless times on the TV over the years, or perhaps it’s because this place has always been one of my alternate endings. The thought barely settles before I pull the lapels on my pea coat tighter as a chill runs down my spine.
“Stop it, Eloise. That wasn’t a bad omen. It was a draft in an empty condo.”
I hurriedly walk over to the glass fireplace in the center of the room and flip it on before heading back to the front door and closing and locking it for good measure. It’s been a long day, and I could use a glass of wine after traveling, but a hot bath to relieve the tension in every muscle sounds heavenly. I clasp my hands together, and the resounding echo that thrums off the high ceiling and marble floors in the empty space only serves to ratchet up my anxiety, reminding me that I’m truly alone. I’m not a fan of being alone. I’ve never lived by myself, and for the past six years, I’ve never had the option to have it any other way.
I walk a little faster and send up a hallelujah when I see a stocked wine fridge under the island in the kitchen. “Perfect.” I don’t have to waste time searching for something to silence the demons threatening to haunt my next chapter. I grab a bottle with a twist top, not caring what grape it contains, and spot a glass front cabinet with stemware. Glass and bottle in hand, I grab my suitcases and head down the corridor that appears to lead toward bedrooms.
I don’t bother opening any of the doors that line the hallway as soon as I catch sight of open double doors at the end with a king-sized bed in the middle of the room. My feet excitedly pick up the pace, knowing our final destination is mere seconds away. As soon as I breach the doorway, I abandon my bags again and flop back onto the oversized bed, wine bottle in hand.
“Damn, how am I supposed to get up now?” The pillow top mattress hugs every curve of my worn body. Lugging my bags through two airports after missing my first flight here was not part of the plans. My phone vibrates in my back pocket, and for a split second, I consider not checking it. If no one knows I’m here… this isn’t real. I close my eyes. “Stop it. You’re not this girl, Eloise Grey. You don’t run, and you sure as hell don’t hide.” When I pull it out, I have zero missed calls or texts. No one is trying to reach me. My battery is low. Before it dies, I shoot off a text.
Eloise: I’m here.
Eloise: I locked the door.
I toss my phone across the bed and grab my bottle of wine and the glass. Time to silence the noise.
M y eyes flash open, and darkness surrounds me. The longer I stare into the nothingness around me, the more they adapt, and the faint glow from street lamps below slowly illuminates the room. I roll over to find my phone and check the time, and my temples pound. That must have been what woke me from my sleep. The dehydrated organ in my head needs water. My fingers have just wrapped around my phone when a loud banging rolls through the house, all but making me jump out of my skin. As my heart starts running a marathon, I swipe the screen on my phone to check the time.
“Shit.” I never plugged it in. “Great, Eloise, you’re about to get murdered in another country, and you can’t even dial anyone to share your final goodbyes.”
The rapping resumes with an incensed vigor. I sit up, flip on the light beside the bed, quickly scan the room, and spot a bronze statue of the Toronto Space Needle. The building could very well be on fire, and my visitor is a neighbor alerting me of impending doom, but given I hear no alarms, I take the statue. I’ve just started down the hall when a single pound hits the door, but this time, a voice accompanies it.
“Eloise, open up.”
The adrenaline coursing through me fades away as anger surfaces.
I don’t know what time it is, but it’s clearly not morning. Who the hell does he think he is banging on my door in the middle of the damn night like the police? I unchain the door and throw it open.
“Do you realize you half scared me to death? I almost had a heart attack.”
His blond hair is a mess, his amber eyes are wild, and his chest is heaving as he leans in my doorway. “Fucking same. I’ve spent the past hour looking for you.”
“I’ve been right here.”
His eyes flick into the space behind me before settling on mine again. “This isn’t my condo, Eloise,” he says with a gravel tone that tells me he’s trying to hide his annoyance.
I bite my lip and drop my gaze. “I know.”
“You know?” he questions, his thumb and forefinger gripping my chin so my eyes return to his.
I swallow what little saliva is left in my parched mouth. “Yes, Cal. I’m aware,” I say, pulling my chin out of his hold. I release the door, letting it open, and start back down the hallway toward the master.
I hear it close behind me as Callum follows and asks, “Why didn’t you tell me? When we planned this, it was to give us a shot. You came here to be with me, not live across the hall from me.”
I flip on the light in the bathroom, and the brightness immediately assaults my senses, making me flinch. I set the statue on the counter and reach for my toiletry bag to search for some Ibuprofen. I pop two in my mouth before turning on the sink and drinking straight from the source, desperate for relief. His hand finds my back. I swallow my pills and shut off the water before turning my gaze to the mirror, where it collides with his.
“Eloise, are you okay?”
My platinum hair is mussed from not brushing it before falling asleep, and my mascara is smudged. I look like a mess. I bring my forefingers up to correct the smearing under my eyes, but Cal stops me. Grabbing my arms, he folds them across my chest and holds me from behind.
“Don’t. I like you this way,” he says gently. “Talk to me.”
Our eyes connect in the mirror, and I can see that the past hour has caused him stress. “How did you find me?”
“After searching every room in my place and coming up empty, I went down to the front desk and had them pull the security footage from when you texted me that you arrived. I watched you stand outside this door instead of mine before finally entering.”
Damn. I don’t love that he saw that. It means he watched me hesitate, and I’m not trying to cast a shadow over this arrangement before it starts.
“I’m sorry. I knew I had time to kill before your game ended. I was going to freshen up and have a drink before coming over, but my phone died, and I fell asleep. It was a long day of travel.”
“I’m glad you’re safe.” He releases me, only to cross his arms and lean against the vanity top beside me. “Now, do you mind explaining why you’re in this condo, not mine?”
“There are a few reasons…” I pull in a stuttered breath, letting my eyes swing to his. “Which one do you want?”
His tongue slowly dips out as he moistens his bottom lip, his eyes narrowing slightly as he attempts to get a read on me, and I internally scold myself for not having the foresight not to automatically throw on a bra after melting in the bathtub. For crying out loud, I knew I’d be seeing him sooner rather than later, and pebbled nipples from his intense glare and a thin T-shirt aren’t doing me any favors. His eyes flick between mine and my chest, and he clenches his jaw as he pulls air through his nose. “I want all of them, but how about you start with the one that topped the list I know you wrote.”
I step around him and head out of the bathroom, eager to put space between us, and grab a blanket off the bed to cover myself. Once the throw blanket on the bed is wrapped around my shoulders, I turn around and run into his chest. His strong hands grip my shoulders, and his touch only worsens matters. I’ve missed him. I’ve missed him since the day I walked out, but the look in his eyes now seems filled with longing and hunger, speaking of love that I’m not sure matches his heart. I slam my eyes shut and shove down flames that burn so easily when we’re close.
“We already know we have bed chem. I’m here to see about the rest.”
His grip loosens before he releases me. “Bed chem?” he questions, a hint of amusement laced in his tone.
I open my eyes and find a smirk pulling at the corner of his stupidly handsome mouth, and I want to slap it off. I hate that he so effortlessly affects me, and he’s standing here seemingly indifferent. I’m the same fool I’ve always been. A sucker for a pair of endless golden orbs, strong jaw, and panty-melting smile attached to a body made of pure sin. I pull my blanket tighter around me before rolling my eyes.
“Yeah, bed chem.” I shake my head and widen my eyes, and he stares back incredulously, completely unaware. My cheeks flame from the admission before I spell it out. “Bed chemistry…” I slowly drag out the term, and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. When I don’t see the immediate expression confirming agreement, I stomp off down the hall toward the main living area. Of course he wouldn’t agree, Eloise. Cal’s had plenty of puck bunnies warming his bed over the years. What we shared was years ago. Whatever chemistry I remember, he’s long forgotten.
“Eloise, will you stop running away from me?”
“I’m not running,” I say without stopping. “I’m parched, is all.” When I reach the kitchen, I make a beeline for the refrigerator. My eyes immediately zero in on the sparkling coconut water I had on the list to be delivered before my arrival, but I don’t reach for it. Instead, I linger and let the cool air center me as I get a grip on my reactions.
“You can tell me you’re not running all you’d like. However, we both know it’s a lie, but if you want me to pretend, I will.”
I don’t say anything, unsure what words could be the correct response when it’s clear there are none. I’ve been running from him in some form since the day we met.
“I won’t push you. If this is the way you want it, this is the way you’ll have it.”
I still don’t move. I can’t. Nothing is the way I want it to be.
“It’s been a long day for both of us. I’ll let you get some rest,” he says as he exhales a spent breath, his feet taking him no more than a few steps before he adds, “For what it’s worth, breathing the same air as you has always been torture.”
I hear the front door close, and I straighten. “You’re a coward, Eloise. He wants the same things.” I grab the water I know will no longer quench my thirst. It can’t when the man I want to fill my cup just walked out the door.