49. Alessandra
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
alessandra
Waking up in Booth’s arms is heaven.
Leaving them is hell.
I’m rudely dragged from my deep slumber when my phone buzzes across the room.
My arms and legs are stiff.
Not from sleep but from the ravenous and sensual way Booth took control of my body last night.
The ache is welcome.
I twist out of his hold and stare down at his sleeping form.
He looks younger like this; brown hair disheveled with sleep, one arm slung over his face, lips parted as he snores softly.
My hand strokes down his cheek before I stand and walk toward my bag.
Each step is cumbersome.
The thud of my feet hitting the solid floor is a bitter reminder that today is it.
When I pull out my phone, the screen is blank, but the vibration continues.
The noise is coming from Booth’s cell.
Wanting to check it’s no one important, I flip it over, and the caller ID has me doing a double take.
Curiosity might kill the cat, but why is Pedro —the executive chef of the Silver Goddess —calling him?
As I stare at his phone, the call drops, but a text quickly follows.
My finger hovers above the four digits I know to be Booth’s passcode.
It’s a huge invasion of privacy.
One that would make me livid.
Which is why I return the device and head to the bathroom instead to run through my morning routine.
I return to the main space to find Booth stirring awake.
“ Morning , beautiful.”
I’m so lost in my denial that today is our last, I almost forget about Pedro’s mysterious call.
Whatever suspicions brew in my brain, he can easily put to rest.
“Why is Pedro calling you?” I ask calmly.
Like a shot of caffeine into his veins, his eyes turn to saucers, voice stricken.
“ What ? When did he call? What did he say?”
“I didn’t answer.” I move closer until our knees touch, him sitting and me standing.
“ Your phone was vibrating— I thought it was mine. How do you know him?”
He sighs heavily.
“ It’s nothing.”
I gesture over his rigid body, muscles straining tight.
“ This doesn’t look like nothing. Talk to me.”
Rough hands skim up the backs of my bare thighs as he drops his forehead to my stomach.
“ Please , drop it, Aly . I’m telling him no.”
We don’t push one another, but he’s keeping something from me.
He can be mad at me later, because I need an explanation.
My hands bracket his face, raising his gaze so he can’t avoid eye contact.
“ What do you have to say no about?”
His shoulders slump in defeat.
“ A job. He wants to meet in New York to discuss the launch of a new restaurant. He’s looking to bring someone on board for six months to assist.”
This doesn’t add up.
His body language and flat tone shouldn’t pair with the news he’s revealing.
Not just any news. Something he’s always dreamed about .
“Wait? He wants to work with you? And you’re saying no?”
He stares at me like I’m deluded.
“ Of course I am.”
I step back, and his arms drop to his sides.
Nothing makes sense.
“ Why would you turn it down?”
Booth rises, in nothing but tight gray briefs that should be distracting, but I can’t seem to tear my gaze away from his dithering expression.
“ Are you serious? I can’t just up and leave. It’s not even permanent. Your dad was kind enough to put in a good word with Pedro , but c’mon, I’m hardly qualified.”
“My dad doesn’t blow smoke up people’s asses for the sake of it. He obviously saw something in you. You want to say yes, it’s written across your face. So why aren’t you giving it a shot? You shut down whenever I try to broach the topic of you leaving Our Place .” I’m aware my voice is rising, but my irritation is difficult to contain.
“ I’m not stupid, Booth . You hate your job.”
Pain flashes on his face.
“ I don’t have a choice.”
My eyes narrow.
“ The choice is all yours . No one is stopping you. You’re wasting away in that restaurant. I promised myself I wouldn’t say anything, but I can’t hold my tongue anymore. That night in your house when you told me about your dreams, the excitement and passion in your voice were unmistakable. I’ve never seen you like that before.”
His chest rises and falls rapidly.
“ My family is relying on me.”
My hand lands over his heart.
The next words I speak are harsh, but I hope the touch reassures him they’re spoken with care.
“ Your family wants you to be happy. They’d be sad to lose you, but they’d be devastated if you lost yourself. Lost sight of your dreams. You think you’re good at hiding your emotions?”
He doesn’t answer.
“You’re not. Johanna sees the truth. Florence does. Your brothers. And so do I .” His troubled gaze falls, the tempo of his heart thumping hard against my palm.
“ You didn’t even correct me when I said you hate your job.”
Realization dawns on him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
When he reaches for me, an excuse on the tip of his tongue, my hand remains firmly on his chest, stopping him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I repeat.
Booth stays calm. “ What was the point? It’s a silly daydream that would never happen.”
That hurts.
My chest aches because he didn’t want to tell me, but also from his self-deprecation.
“ Right . So you were never going to tell me, is that it?”
“Aly, are we really arguing about this?” His eyes drift to the cuckoo clock.
“ I’m not spending the last few hours we have left together fighting. What’s the big deal?”
Frustration laces my veins.
My arms rise at my sides.
“ The big deal is that you don’t trust me enough to tell me that my family’s business offered you a job.”
That riles him up.
“ You’re kidding? Of course, I trust you. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
“Apparently not enough to share that tidbit of information.” I shake my head.
“ I get you’re scared. Truly . But can you honestly stand there and tell me you’re going to be happy in five, ten, twenty years?”
“It’s not about my happiness,” he mutters, voice weighed down with so much it’s hard to pinpoint a single emotion.
Worry creases his brow when I remove my hand and step back.
“ Trust works both ways. I was protective of mine for good reason. When I was ready to give you it, I handed it over wholly. But you haven’t given over all of your trust to me, or you would have talked to me.”
His head falls back and he groans.
“ That’s not fair.”
My bag thuds at my feet as I pull out today’s outfit.
“ It isn’t fair. What you’re doing to yourself isn’t fair. And do you know what I’ve just realized?”
He waits for me to fill in the blank.
“You don’t trust yourself, let alone me. You don’t trust your family. Not the way they expect you to.”
He falters, mouth hanging open as he searches for his argument.
It doesn’t come. When he notices me changing, he shakes himself out of his stupor.
“ Where are you going?”
I slip on a pair of black cigarette pants and a fitted cream sweater.
My movements are rigid, but if I stop, I’ll want to touch him.
“ I trust you more than I’ve ever trusted anyone. You cracked me wide open, took a hold of my trust, and protected it like the most precious thing in the world. I’ll never be able to repay you for what you’ve done for me during my time here.”
Panic has him snatching my purse off the bed, clutching it to his chest. “ Your flight isn’t until this evening. You can’t go.”
“I was always going, and I think it’s best that I go now.” I reach toward him.
“ Please don’t make this harder than it is.”
“Silv, c’mon. Why are you doing this?” His tone is pleading, but it’s the sadness in his eyes that guts me.
“ You promised me all of you. You’re still mine for a couple more hours.”
My lip trembles and I bite down hard to stop it.
“ You had all of me.” With him momentarily stunned, I pull my bag from his grip.
“ But you didn’t give me all of you, and that hurts, Booth .”
In the blink of an eye, my bag is flung back on the bed, and I’m encased in his smoky scent.
Booth’s arms band around my back, holding me prisoner in my favorite cage.
“ Please , Aly . Don’t leave like this.”
His shattered voice is a kick to the chest. “ I have to. You know this. We agreed.” I return his embrace, hugging him so tight his breath catches.
“ If you ever learn to trust yourself, I hope you find the courage to leave too. It doesn’t mean you don’t love your family or are risking your dad’s legacy. Being selfish is brave. ”
An ocean-sized space sits between us when I break away.
“I’ll never forget my time in Sutton Bay . Or you, Booth Sadler .”
He collapses on the bed.
Eyes and body crushed.
Because I can’t help myself, I bend and press my lips to his cheek, fingers following.
“I’ll text you when I land in New York .” My fingertips stop at the corner of his mouth.
They hover over where those godforsaken dimples sit.
“You’d be amazing at whatever you put your mind to. I wish you saw that.”
I collect my things, order a cab, and use the bathroom.
All the while, Booth sits on the bed, motionless and silent.
When I emerge, he’s gone.
And sitting next to my paints and brushes is a tiny bouquet made entirely of LEGO .