Chapter 34
CHAPTER 34
T he sudden, shrill ring of a telephone has us jumping apart. Taylor glances over his shoulder, scowling at the room behind us.
“Time’s up,” I murmur, a hint of disappointment seeping into my tone.
“Looks like it.” Taylor presses one last kiss against my lips before retrieving his robe. He holds mine out for me, using one hand to help me out of the pool and the other to lift the terry cloth over my shoulders.
He doesn’t ask me about the reunion now that I’m satiated. Doesn’t comment that he wasn’t able to get off, or on how fast he made me come. Taylor is quiet as I shrug on my robe, watching me with a small smile that verges on sweet.
His hand finds the small of my back as he escorts me into the massage room, retrieving the bag of my clothes before I have to reach for it.
“Thank you,” I murmur, a small furrow forming between my brows. He’s being nice. But is it too nice? Is he leading me into some kind of trap?
Taylor laughs softly, pressing a finger against the crease in my brow. “I’ll get changed. Meet me back in the lobby?”
I nod, and he leans down, pulling me into one last lingering kiss. His lips are soft upon mine, his touch gentle. My eyes are still closed when he pulls away, and I blink dazedly as he makes his way out the door, closing it with a gentle click .
I stand perfectly still for a long time, trying to make sense of what just happened. My eyes drift to the clock, and only the sight of the big hand has me jolting back into action. In two hours, the Havens will land in Los Angeles.
And I can’t shake a terrible feeling that in two hours’ time, everything will change.
I shove a stack of nightgowns into my suitcase, pressing down with two hands to flatten the mountain of clothes. I swear everything fit just fine two weeks ago. It’s like I’m staring down at the contents of my brain. Everything I thought I knew about life has been twisted into this tangled heap.
I’m not even excited to leave this strange house behind. Somehow, these four gilded walls have become my home. I have grown entirely too used to heated toilet seats and state-of-the-art kitchen appliances. I’m going to miss rolling out of bed and limping straight into the office, and how there’s always a pot of coffee ready on the stove.
Most of all, I’m going to miss Taylor.
There’s no point trying to deny it—I like his company. How the house is never perfectly quiet. I’ve grown accustomed to eating breakfast across from him, and knowing how he looks at any given time of day. Our relationship has transformed these last two weeks. We’ve gone from enemies to allies to something…else.
And it’s with a lump in my throat that I admit I don’t want that to change. I don’t want to drive into work next week. I don’t want to discover this camaraderie Taylor and I have forged is only paper thin. That a bit of time and distance can tear it in two. I’m terrified to walk back through these doors on Monday and find he’s gone back to hating me.
I’m not sure I still have it in me to reciprocate the feeling.
I feel like I’m sixteen years old all over again when I knock on his door. There’s a nervous fluttering in my stomach as I wait. It’s been years since a boy has made my palms sweaty. How ironic that Taylor Hedlund has been the culprit every time.
My heart skips a beat when he appears in the doorway. His brows quirk up as he takes me in. “Ayla?”
I shift from foot to foot, building the courage to voice what I need to say. “So, I’ve been thinking,” I begin, trying to conjure a smile that will reach my eyes. “Fuck it, I’ll do it.”
Taylor’s head cocks to the side. “Do…what?”
I swallow, trying to recall why I decided to do this in the first place. But I’ve made my mind up. And there’s no turning back when I say: “I’ll go with you to your high school reunion.”
Taylor blinks, confusion clouding his eyes. Sixteen-year-old Ayla freezes in place. I see Taylor in my mind’s eye, looking just as bewildered when I handed him a box of blondies. And I know what’s coming next. He’ll laugh, reject me with that cruel smirk of his and admit he’s been joking all along. Or, worse still, he’ll give me that pitying look from a decade ago. He’ll accept my offer like he did my baking, to spare my feelings.
“Or not,” I say, too quickly. “I don’t have to—”
Taylor cuts me off with his lips crashing into mine. He’s laughing through the kiss, a giddy sound I haven’t heard nearly enough.
“Thank you,” he murmurs against my mouth. “Thank you, Ayla.”
The smile he gives me when he pulls away is neither cruel nor superficially kind. It’s just… real.
And I know as I look between his creased eyes that I never stood a chance. From the time he walked back into my life, I was destined to end up exactly where I am now.
Willing to do whatever it takes to bring a smile to Taylor’s face.
So I’ll suffer through a night of small talk. I’ll play whatever part he wants me to. I’ll open myself up to getting hurt because, at the end of the day, it’s worth it. If it lets me spend more time with this Taylor—the one who’s kind, and creative, and looks at me like I’m someone worth knowing—it will all be worth it.
“Thank you,” he says again, softer this time. “You won’t regret it.”
I really, really hope he’s right.