Chapter 15
Brady
Lily left the galley with a tumbler in her hand and a look on her face that was slightly timid and a whole lot of shy. I tried to give her privacy and not watch her walk the entire way over to me, but with my head down, I could still see her, even if it was only in my mind.
I could feel her.
I could smell her.
She set my second scotch on the table beside me, and as she went to take her hand back, I captured it.
Partly for me. I needed to touch her, to get a sense of her skin and its temperature, and to remind myself why I’d arranged to take Dominick’s plane to Scotland just to have a conversation with her.
Had I fucking lost it?
I searched for that answer as I held her.
Her flesh was warm, on the verge of hot, despite the plane being cold.
I waited to feel a tug, a clench, a stiffening.
None of that happened, nor did she pull away from me.
It almost felt as if her fingers collapsed, like she was giving me the weight of her hand.
She wanted to stay in my grasp.
No, I hadn’t fucking lost it.
The phone number was one thing, but the way she responded to my presence was something entirely different.
I released her and said, “Why don’t you pour yourself a drink?”
The monitor that hung on the wall showed a digital map of the flight’s progress. We were somewhere over Arizona. I’d given her plenty of time to do the shit she needed to around the plane, for her to settle her thoughts since she’d looked like a deer in fucking headlights when I got out of the car. Maybe now, assuming she was calmer, we could really talk.
“I can’t.” She paused. “I’m working.”
I glanced around the cabin. “Who’s going to tell on you?”
Her fingers cinched her waist. “What would happen if there was an emergency landing? I can’t be half in the bag while being responsible for?—”
“One scotch isn’t going to knock you on your ass, Lily.”
What I hoped it would do was take the edge off.
There was a hell of a lot that I didn’t know about her, but what I did know was that she was unlike most women. And what I couldn’t figure out was her mysterious side, why a glance at her phone caused her entire mood to change.
Why she would become a completely different person.
I was going to get to the bottom of it.
I placed my scotch on her palm. “Drink this. I’ll go get myself another one.”
“No, I’m supposed to serve you?—”
“Don’t move.”
I went into the galley and found a tumbler in the cabinet, along with the bottle of scotch, and filled the glass with several fingers’ worth. When I returned to the cabin, she was sitting on the couch across from my seat, the glass still in her hand.
I nodded toward it. “Take a sip.”
“For the record, I’m not caving because you told me to or because of peer pressure.” She surrounded the rim with her lips and swallowed. “I’m drinking this because I need it.” She took another gulp. “But you never saw this happen—got it? The trouble I would get in”—she shook her head—“would be endless.”
She set the glass on her lap and looked at me. Multiple seconds seemed to pass before she spoke again. “I know you want an answer about the phone number.”
“What I don’t want is bullshit.”
She nodded. “I get that.” She crossed her legs, her body almost caving inward into the seat. “I hate that I have to tell you this. It honestly makes me feel sick to my stomach.” She took another drink. “But, yes, I gave you the wrong number.”
The anger that was always there came to a rippling boil.
I’d fucking tracked this woman down, only to find out she didn’t want me to.
That didn’t stop me from barking, “Explain.”
“Explain to you that I’m a mess?” She sighed. “That my life is?—”
“Complicated. I know.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
Her head shook, like she was in a field and didn’t know what direction to take to go home. “I was hoping I could disappear before this conversation ever took place. I don’t know what to say now that you know the truth.”
“Let me get this straight.” I was trying to keep my voice down, but the tone was as sharp as a blade. “You never wanted to see me again?”
“It’s not that I didn’t want to see you again. It’s that I shouldn’t. The difference between those two statements is huge.”
Not a goddamn thing made sense to me, and that wasn’t the scotch’s fault.
“What am I supposed to do with that, Lily?”
“You can’t do anything.” She seemed to sink even lower into her seat. “That’s why I wanted to run. So we wouldn’t have to face each other and I’d never have to look you in the eye and tell you that regardless of how I feel and what I truly want”—she paused to take a breath and then another—“you and I can never happen.”
Each word was like a fucking slap against my face.
I was here, making more of an effort than I ever had in my entire life.
And this—this goddamn rejection—was what it had earned me.
No.
Fuck that.
I went to reach for the scotch, and my hand balled instead. “You gave me a fake number in hopes that”—my clenched hand circled the air—“this conversation, this meetup, would never happen.”
She’d already spoken that answer.
But I needed to hear it again.
I needed it to sink so far into my head that it would burn the memories of her.
“Yes.”
It was that easy for her, to just disappear, the two times we’d been together completely meaningless.
Yet this woman had lived in my mind since the first time I had seen her.
She’d dominated my thoughts.
And in return, she didn’t want me.
So, I was going to make her feel as little and as shitty as I did.
“You know something, Lily? You read this situation all wrong.” I finally lifted my drink and shot back at least a finger’s worth. “You thought I asked for your number because I wanted to date you. That’s not it at all. I don’t date. I asked for it because I just wanted to fuck you again.”
She pushed herself to the end of the seat. “Brady?—”
“There’s nothing left for us to discuss.”
She held up her hand. “I didn’t?—”
“You can go back to the galley now.” I nodded toward that section of the plane. “And I don’t need you to check on me for the rest of the flight.”