Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Ella
My phone beeps. This time, it isn’t in my pocket.
I am currently sans-pockets. All of my clothes are on the floor.
My eyelids flutter open and I suck in a deep breath. Cole is next to me, with his arm thrown over my waist. Even though he’s in a dead sleep, his hand is gripping my thigh like he never wants to let me go.
I tip-toe out of bed and grab my bra and underwear. I put them on silently as I try to find my dress on the floor.
As I’m searching, the dresser catches my eye, where an old beat-up magazine sits. I let myself take a peek because it’s open. It’s not an invasion of privacy if it’s already open, right?
I walk over quietly, not wanting to wake up the man who took my virginity and rocked my body all night long.
But it wasn’t just that. Not by a mile. He’s perfect. He defies explanation. I don’t know how someone like him is even possible. And I can’t believe he is into me.
He’s the man I’ve always wanted. I didn’t know it until now, but I was waiting for him. The most stand-up, intelligent, passionate, hot man I’ve ever met. I melt when I’m around him, not to mention what we’ve been doing for approximately the last twelve hours.
I was saving myself for a man who would consume me, steal my heart, and take care of it. I wasn’t saving myself for marriage — I was just waiting for the right man.
Is Cole this so-called “right man” I’ve been dreaming of my whole life? Does wondering that make me completely insane?
The photo in the magazine on the desk in front of me depicts a scene that is truly breathtaking: a crystal-clear turquoise lake surrounded by snow-capped peaks.
The glittering water nearly jumps off the page.
It captures something that’s both calming and exciting.
His name appears in tiny letters below the photo.
I smile as my gaze drifts away from the magazine. I can see why he was looking at that page. If that photo were my magnum opus, I think I’d want to look at it every day, too.
A hand-written itinerary in a notebook lays open next to his laptop. It’s a list of places and dates. Times. Time zones.
I smile as I run my fingers down the page, lingering on each word. Today he’s heading off to Bora Bora, with a stop in a place I can’t pronounce and have never even heard of.
I flip the page to find even more dates and locations penned in. There’s a phone number and a time. I recognize it as the call he took yesterday during our encounter at the bar. At the top of the page, “book tour” looms large.
My perception shifts as dark clouds seem to gather over me. I swallow, my throat feeling thick and full. A haze of nerves flows around me as I look over my shoulder.
What have I gotten myself into?
I got my cherry popped by the only man who’s ever even kissed me. Last night was brain-bending. Life-changing.
But is that all it was? Was that all it was meant to be?
His life is contained in the pages of magazines, plane tickets, and bottles of champagne in first class.
And then there’s me. A girl who’s never been on an airplane. A girl who doesn’t have a passport and wouldn’t even know how to get one if she wanted to.
The name of his magazine is “Stray.”
If I had a magazine, it would be called “Stay.”
What did I think was going to happen? That my dad’s best friend would give up the amazing life he’s built just to stay here with me?
Tears sting the corners of my eyes as I pick up my dress from the floor. I zip it up and throw my hair into a messy bun, toeing my white sneakers on and heading to the door. As I open it, my black cat appears out of nowhere and races down the balcony, disappearing around a corner.
It feels like a sign from the universe. My kindred cat spirit is running. Now I’m running, too.
I take one final look at Cole over my shoulder, then close the door behind me. Just a moment later, as my feet start moving along the stretch of the balcony, Cole’s door opens behind me.
“Ella?” he says. “Where are you going?”
I turn around slowly. His brows are twisted into a look of confusion.
“Water aerobics,” I say, forcing a smile. “The grannies will write a very strongly worded letter to my father if I keep them waiting. They’ll probably ask me to proofread it, too. It’s going to be a whole thing.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“No,” I blurt out. “No. I’m good.”
“Ella,” he shakes his head and his throat moves.“Is everything okay?”
I don’t want him to see me cry. How sad would that be? He looks genuinely concerned. He’s not an asshole. I know he would hate to see me upset, so I just play it cool. No need to make him feel bad. I already feel bad enough for the both of us.
“Yeah,” I say, plastering a fake smile on my face. It’s physically hard to do, especially when I’m in the process of…breaking up with him? I shake my head. Is that really what’s happening right now?
“You don’t look like everything is okay.”
“I promise,” I say. “I’m good.”
“Ella, what is going on here?” He steps out onto the balcony and takes a few steps toward me. “Can we talk? I thought…”
“This was great.” I start walking backward a few steps. I don’t really know what else to say. “But I have to go.”
“Ella.”
“You can drop off your keys at the front desk.” I stop and take a breath, then hit him with the saddest, most pathetic goodbye. “I hope you enjoyed your stay. Please come back soon.”
Then I turn around and finally let the tears begin to fall.