Teaser from Easton's POV:
When the doors open, the spell breaks. I manage a clean escape onto the terrace, and the December air knifes right through my fleece jacket. Dropping my duffel bag, I ignore the cold and lean into the wind, grateful no one else is dumb enough to chase frostbite for solitude.
Five seconds. That’s all I get before another person I didn’t anticipate seeing calls out, “Easton!”
If I don’t move, maybe I’ll discover it’s just the breeze carrying my name forward from the past. A phantom memory haunting me from when we used to live down the hall from each other.
Her Dolce & Gabbana hits first, the same perfume she’s worn since the day we met. She told me the scent always transports her to the cliffs of Capri.
I clamp my gum between my back teeth, remembering I’m far from Italy and too damn close to her now. You’re supposed to be in Virginia with your dad.
“Will you look at me?” Gwen’s hand lands on my shoulder.
I stiffen. “I already said goodbye.”
“I know. We did that song and dance in Charleston last weekend. Yet here you are.”
Her fingers drift down my shoulder to my biceps like she’s typing along the way. Knowing her, she’s trying to decrypt me. Find a way through my firewalls. Yeah, well, good luck with that.
I man up and turn, forcing her to let go of me. When our eyes meet, I regret the decision to face her. Because how am I supposed to look at her and walk away again?
She rubs her arms, shivering. Of course she bolted out here without a jacket, pretending Switzerland is Sarasota. I shrug off mine and drape it over her shoulders.
“Why are you here?”
“To get a second goodbye, so it would seem.” Her brows lift twice to add a little extra attitude there.
“Should’ve never said a goodbye in the first place.” I draw a hand to the nape of my neck to squeeze at the tension barking up my spine and into my skull.
“I suppose that’s something we can agree on.”
“Not what I meant.”
I never should have shown up at that wedding reception in South Carolina. Not that I made it farther than the white tent’s entrance before trying to escape. Gwen spotted me and tracked me down on my way to the parking lot. We exchanged a few words, and I wasn’t supposed to see her anytime soon, especially not tonight.
“Well . . . we went from three months apart to only three days. That’s progress.” Her breath is visible in the freezing air, and I nearly open my mouth to catch it as my hand returns to my side. “Since I have another chance to talk to you in person, will you tell me what you’ve been up to these—”
“You know exactly where I’ve been and what I’ve been up to.” In my dad’s guesthouse doing a whole lot of nothing other than PT. Told her as much over texts, too.
Despite swapping messages here and there in the last few months, I’ve also felt her eyes on me twice. Well, over CCTV footage, that is. Once at Arrowhead Stadium, and another time at my favorite barbecue joint. Place has the best burnt ends in Kansas City.
“Don’t pretend you didn’t check on me.”
Her mouth curves, the faintest smirk forming on her shiny lips. Since Christmas is in ten days, she’s probably wearing her candy cane lip moisturizer.
“You can’t help yourself, and you know it.” I’ll never admit I like that she cares enough to break a few federal laws to spy on me.
“Once a hacker . . .” She tilts her head, strands of blonde hair falling across her face, partially blocking her gorgeous blue-gray eyes.
It takes everything I have not to brush away her hair. I’d have done that in the past without a second thought. A friendly thing. A nothing thing. For some reason, now it feels like it’d be an everything thing.
“So, really, why are you back? Just to torture me?”
I laugh, and the heat in my chest is a welcome contrast to the bone-chilling cold I’m trying to ignore. “I didn’t realize my presence is so—”
“It’s your absence that hurts.”
Her remark nearly cuts me in two, and I should walk back a step, but stupidly, I go forward.
“I miss you, and you know it.” She pouts, and it’s almost enough to do me in. To have me wondering whether I can be absolved of my sins and come back.
“I don’t know what to say.” My heart can’t possibly beat any faster without physically breaking free from the prison I’ve kept it in for so long.
“Say you miss me, too.” She reaches out and pokes my chest like she’s done a hundred times before.
“It’s not that easy.” I urge her arm back under my jacket, hoping it keeps her semi-warm out here, then jam my hands into my pockets.
“Fine.” Her response comes equipped with another hard-hitting dose of pout. I’m gonna blame the frigid air for the slight tremble in her chin, though. She can’t possibly miss me that much. “Just tell me you’re here because you changed your mind. That you’re coming out of retirement, and that’s why Carter called Falcon in.” Why do her words always land like poetry dressed as orders?
“They’re all here?” I don’t need any of them on my ass. I’ve already spent months being lectured by Juliette and my teenage nephew, Colin. Even my sister’s hard-ass Italian husband, Constantine, wouldn’t give me a break.
“They are. My dad, too.”
Of course. Because the hits just keep on coming.
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