TWENTY EIGHT
Will
I swirl the wine in my glass and stare into the deep red depths. I haven’t even had more than a few sips. It tastes like vinegar in my mouth, though the others seem to be enjoying it.
“And it’s signed by the poet?” Jane’s comment makes me glance over to the beautiful leather bound copy of The Complete Works of William Wordsworth .
“Yeah.”
“Well, that’s something,” she says.
We’re all quiet for a while.
“Tell us again what happened.” Harry gives me a sympathetic look over his own glass.
We’re sitting around Harry and Jane’s living room. Well, I say sitting. Candy is laying on the sofa with her feet over the arm.
She perks up at a knock at the door. “That will be Ian.” She gives me a shy look. “Don’t be mad, but I told him to come round. He always makes me smile when I’m feeling down.”
In a testament to my black mood, I don’t even roll my eyes at the mention of my little sister’s vampire boyfriend. Since my week with Bella, I’ve actually come around to the vampire. He really put in a big effort to keep the shop running while I was having a mini-vacation and I’ll never forget that.
Candy rolls off the sofa and rushes to the front door. I hear her squeal as she invites him in. I choose to ignore the distinct kissing sounds right after that.
Ian walks in with his arm around my sister and pauses when he sees me. “Oh, boss. What’s got you so glum? You look like your family has been diagnosed with the Black Plague or something.”
What a delightful mental picture.
Before I can respond, Jane jumps in, waving her hand. “Oh, no. You’ve got it wrong. We’re not sad. We’re happy, right, Will? Because you made the right decision.”
Harry lifts his glass. “Hear, hear. To making the right choice.”
Nobody moves. Ian’s brow furrows. “Then why do you look like death warmed up?”
I snort before I realize he’s not joking. “I just turned down Bella Owens.”
Ian’s jaw drops open. “You what? Are you crazy?”
I start to reply and then pause. Am I?
All I know is, from the moment I let her walk out of my shop, I’ve felt nothing but miserable.
“She wanted to be my mate,” I say glumly.
Ian slaps a hand on his forehead. “You daft prick.”
Candy shoves an elbow in his ribs and he turns to her. “What? I can’t believe the rest of you aren’t saying it. It’s Bella Owens, for Christ’s sake! I mean, it’s nice when anyone says they want to be your mate, but Bella Owens?” To his credit, he stops and gives Candy a completely sappy look. “Or Candy Preston.”
Props to Ian. Candy looks completely besotted. “She is my best friend, you know,” Candy says to me.
I groan. “Not helping.”
“You see here.” Ian steps forward and takes my wine glass, setting it on the coffee table. “If you’re half as smart as I think you are, you’re going to walk right out of here and go find her and tell her how stupid you are.” He holds up a finger when Harry starts to speak. “I know that doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t have to. Now are you going to get your girl?”
Jane jumps up from the sofa. “Are you? Are we?”
Candy is hopping up and down.
I sigh. “I can’t. I told her to sod off. She’ll never take me back.”
Harry groans. “You really are an idiot.”
“In my defense, it’ll never work out. She’ll reject me when she realizes that.”
“So?” My best friend glares at me across the room. “She’s your fated mate, but that’s not the end of the story. You think that’s easy? You think it’s all going to be sunshine and roses?”
“Isn’t it?” I fire back, angry. “Look at you two.”
Jane’s lip trembles.
Why do I get the feeling I’ve just put my foot in my mouth again?
“We lost three babies, Will.”
A thick, awful silence falls.
Finally, I mumble, “I’m sorry.”
Jane wipes away a tear. “And then there’s the time I cheated on Harry with the GILF next door.” She laughs and it breaks the tension.
Harry turns to her in mock outrage. “You slept with Gladis? But she promised I was her only lover in thirty years!”
Jane picks up his hand and kisses it, placing it onto her knee.
He turns back to me. “The point is just because it’s fate, doesn’t mean you won’t have some hurdles, but you can’t give up.”
“Yeah. You can’t give up on my best friend!”
I look around the room at the hopeful, earnest faces of my friends. “Fuck. I’m a sodding idiot.”
“Too right.” Harry sets aside his wine. “Let me find the car keys, and let’s go see if we can fix this mess.”
Jane sets her hand on his arm and looks meaningfully at his empty wine glass. “I’m driving.”
He gives her a nod. “I swear they were in the kitchen this afternoon.” He dashes toward the kitchen.
“You left them in the bathroom on the counter,” Jane calls.
Harry dashes up the stairs.
I stand. “Fuck.”
I brush at my trousers and wonder what the hell I’d even say.
“Calm down, Will. There’s still time.”
“What if there’s not? She’s flying to Dubrovnik any time now. It might have been today!”
“Call her!”
Cursing myself for a fool, I fumble for my phone and dial the number.
It rings out.
Harry charges back in. “Got them! Where are we headed?”
“The airport,” everyone says at once.
We pile into the car, even though there aren’t seats enough for all of us. Ian somehow folds himself into the trunk—impressive in the smart car—and Jane takes off with a whoop and squeal of tires.
“Take the M7,” Harry says, staring at the map on his phone. “No! Wait. The A2.”
Jane swerves around a Gregs van and across two lanes of traffic.
Candy clutches my hand. “This is so exciting.”
“I’d settle for a little less excitement myself.” With bated breath, I check the flight schedule for Heathrow. A flight for Dubrovnik leaves in an hour. We’re not going to make it. If that’s hers, she could already be through security.
Jane puts her foot to the floor and the car zooms around corners and through orange lights.
We’re making good progress. I can see the sign for the A2 when traffic comes to a grinding halt.
“Shit.” Jane twists to look back at me. “Traffic jam.”
A car ahead of us beeps.
“Turn around,” Harry says.
“How?” Jane gestures to the traffic island in the center of the road and the oncoming traffic.
“Leave it to me!” Before we can ask, Ian pulls the hood of his jumper over his head, flips the handle of the trunk and climbs out onto the road. He shuts the door and steps into the lane next to us, gesturing at the car beside ours to reverse. The driver beeps, then throws up his hands when Ian places his palms on the hood and pushes. I can’t tell if he’s strong enough to move it with the brakes on or if the driver is helping, but they make room for us and Jane turns the car until she can drive up onto the median strip.
Ian gestures for us to wait, then gives us a wave. “All the best, Will. And don’t worry. They can’t kill what’s already dead!” With that he steps brazenly out into the oncoming traffic, skin lightly smoking in the sunlight.
Candy screams.
A car screeches to a halt in front of him. He strides into the center lane, beckoning us to follow.
“Oh, my god,” Jane turns the wheel and we bump off the median strip and onto the road.
Candy winds down the window and waves to Ian. “Thank you, baby! You’re my hero!”
Then we’re off again at breakneck speed, careening along the suburban streets until we get on the motorway.
It’s still going to be too late. There’s no way they’re not boarding her flight by now, especially if she is in first class.
Something is tugging on my heart like a puppet on strings, making it dance around in my chest. What was I thinking? Of course, I want Bella. Of course, I’ll do whatever it takes.
She could hurt and reject me a hundred times, but that’s just it. I won't stop wanting her. I don’t think I ever will. Thinking I could protect myself from that is pure stupidity. All I’m doing is hurting us both.
I dive from the car as it comes to a stop outside the airport. I shift mid-stride. “Go get her, Will!” my pack call.
My wolf is already focused. Nose to the ground, I hunt for the warm sweet sunshine scent I’ve been dreaming of for months. The airport is packed with other smells. Fuel and exhaust and people. Their bags that have been to every part of the world and back. Somehow, though, one stands out among the rest. Her.
I follow it to the terminal and dash inside the building, ignoring the screams of two women in the doorway. A security guard goes to step into my way, thinks better of it and dodges. At the same moment, I leap past him on my way around a tiled corner.
My claws scrabble on the smooth surface as I turn and head down a narrower corridor.
I come to a skidding stop behind a large crowd of people clustered outside the VIP lounge. I can’t see what’s inside, but I know. Media, reporters, fans. Extra security should have been scheduled. There’s not a chance I’ll get close enough to even see her, let alone talk to her.
Then I remember.
I shifted, didn’t I? I shredded my clothes back outside the airport. Somehow, I have to get through security and close to the world’s most famous actress. Naked at Heathrow Airport.
Bugger.
Then I spot the cleaner’s closet.
Glancing around, I see no one is looking. There are people everywhere, though. Anyone could easily turn and see me. But there’s nothing for it.
Concentrating, I shift back to my human form and grasp the handle, praying for fate to intervene.
It opens.
I dash inside and close the door behind me. I don’t know what I was thinking, really. Only, if this was a movie, I’d find a conveniently placed uniform hanging inside, ready for me to change into.
My hand brushes fabric.
I fucking love fate!
It doesn’t take me too long to squeeze into the too tight uniform, but every second counts. Any moment, she’ll be aboard that flight and out of my reach.
I snatch a bucket and mop and dart toward the VIP lounge. “Sorry. Pardon me. Coming through.”
People turn to glare at me.
I shrug. “Nasty spill. I heard it was vomit. You know, it could be something contagious.”
That has an effect. Soon, I’m through the doors into the quiet room where another cluster of people are gathered around an open space at the far end of the room.
Bella is seated at a table with a white linen table cloth, sipping from a glass of water.
She looks beautiful. She’s dressed down in a casual twin set and her hair is gathered into a bun at the top of her head. She looks sad, though. There’s a tiny crease at the corner of her mouth that wasn’t there in the shop or at my house.
What have I done?
A woman with a microphone clears her throat. “Bella, what are your plans now? When will you be in London next?”
She sets down her water and I see the careful way she composes her expression. “Well, I’ve got a new film I’m working on next week, and I’m not sure when I’ll be back. It’s been so lovely.” She breaks off and takes another sip of water. “But right now, there’s nothing to keep me here, so...”
Another reporter waves and Bella turns her attention to him. “Bella, when are you going to address the rumors that you have a secret London boyfriend? Did it end badly? Is that why you’re leaving?”
Bella stands suddenly. “I’m very sorry. I believe my flight is departing.” Her voice wavers and it twists a sickening knot in my belly. I caused that.
“Wait!” I speak before I can think about it, hardly knowing what I’ll do if she notices me. I only know I have to put that smile back on her face where it belongs. Somehow.
“Bella!” I wave my mop in the air and the crowd turns to look at me. Bella stops.
Her eyes scan the room. Then they widen.
“Please, just one more question.”
Her publicist is beside her, shaking her head.
Bella lays a hand on her arm and the woman stills.
“Yes. I’ll take one more question.”