Love In London: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance

by Flora Ferrari

  We exchange a look.

  I don’t think he wants to hear the honest answer to that.

  “We didn’t plan this,” I say. “It just… it came out of nowhere. And it surprised both of us. But it did happen. It was an instant connection – like the two of us meeting now, at this time in our lives, it was just right.”

  As the words come out of my mouth, I know I’m right. It’s like everything in the world clicked into place and was suddenly exactly where it needed to be. Like we were where we needed to be. “I couldn’t stop thinking about her,” Oz says. “After that first dinner, I didn’t want to not ever see her again.”

  “But it was me that reached out,” I add quickly. “It was me that initiated everything. He didn’t… take advantage of me or anything like that. I swear, Dad.”

  “And then it was just impossible to stop,” Oz says. He grasps my hand tightly, bringing it up between us to cover it with his other hand as well, looking at me lovingly. “From the moment I realized my feelings weren’t one-sided, I couldn’t hold myself back. She’s so perfect. I called my assistant and canceled all of my meetings, took the whole week off work. I feel like I want to take the year off. I don’t want to look at anyone else, talk to anyone else, spend time with anyone else.”

  “And I couldn’t bear to get on the flight and come home,” I say, looking at him now and only him, my dad, almost forgotten on the screen. “I just can’t. I can’t be apart from him. The way I feel, it’s… it’s like my heart grew fifteen sizes overnight. And the thought of leaving would be like ripping it out from my chest and stomping on it. And that hole inside me would be even bigger now that I know what it’s like to be with him.”

  “I can’t let that happen,” Oz says fiercely. “I won’t let you get hurt. Not by anyone, and most of all not by me. You’re too important to me.” He brushes a strand of hair away from my face and tucks it behind my ear the way he does sometimes, his eyes searching mine, conveying so much more than our words can.

  “I couldn’t go if I wanted to,” I say. “And I don’t want to. I never want to. I can’t imagine my life without you, now.”

  “Neither can I,” Oz says. “I don’t even remember what my life was like a week ago. I can’t picture it. It’s just wrong.”

  From the speakers, I hear the sound of my dad clearing his throat loudly, and I look back at him with a flinch. I almost forgot that he was even watching us. I was so wrapped up in Oz that nothing else existed for a moment.

  “Are you sure this isn’t a joke?” he says, looking at us. “If it is, I’m about to reach out to the Oscars, because I think that might have been the best performance of all time.”

  Oz frowns. I see it in the corner of the screen, the pair of us in miniature. “It’s not a joke,” he says. “I don’t know what we have to do to convince you that…”

  My dad raises a hand, making Oz trail off. “I’m convinced,” he says. “At least, I’m convinced that the two of you are convinced. But this is all so intense. It’s been too short a time. You should get some distance, see this from a different perspective.”

  I understand what he’s saying. It does make sense. It’s rational and mature. A way to prove that the way we feel about each other is real.

  But I don’t need to prove it. I know it deep in my bones. This isn’t just some kind of vacation fling, or me getting carried away because I’ve never been with a man before. This is so much more than that.

  “I hear what you’re saying,” Oz says, and my heart sinks just a little, wondering if he’s going to agree. “But the thing is, Dean – I don’t need perspective. I knew it from the moment I saw her again, saw who she’s become. She’s the one for me. All these years I’ve been single and waiting, and I didn’t know what for. But when I saw her, I knew. I’ve been waiting for her.”

  My heart clenches inside of me with a kind of joyous pain, like someone is squeezing it tightly in their fist. I don’t know how much more happiness a person can take.

  I look at him with tears in my eyes, and he kisses them away, gentle and practically chaste compared to our usual kisses. Then he kisses the back of my hand, holding it to his mouth like he can’t bear for his lips not to be in contact with my skin.

  I look back at my dad, all the way on the other side of a big ocean. He could try to keep us apart. But I don’t see how he would manage it. Not with the force of what we feel.

  But still, he’s frowning.

  “How do you expect all of this to work?” he asks, at length, his eyes fixed on us. “A college student and a grown man with much more than a full-time job – when do you think you’re even going to see each other?”

  And for the first time, desperation claws its way up my throat as I see something begin to flicker in Oz’s eyes.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Oz

  He’s got a good point. The thing is, he doesn’t realize that I’ve thought about all of this already.

  There were nights when I was so exhausted that I fell asleep immediately, my whole body satiated and hers wrapped in my arms. But there were other nights, nights when I held her and let her sleep in that cocoon while I thought. And thought. And thought.

  And I thought enough to figure all of this out – at least, to a standard that satisfied my own questions.

  “It’s not going to be like that anymore,” I tell him. “I spent my life working hard so that I would be ready if I ever needed to be. I’ve acquired wealth, enough to see me through to the end of my days if it needed to. But even if I step down just a little, cut my hours to a normal working day, then it’s enough. We’ll be able to spend much more time together. And I’m willing to do that.”

  I see Dean’s eyebrows raise over the call. If he wasn’t convinced about how serious I am already, then this surely has to do the trick. He knows me. He knows how much my work means to me.

  Giving it up, even only in part, is a very big gesture – and one that I know he will have to recognize.

  “You’re going to meet her in her college dorm, are you?” Dean asks. I can see what he’s doing now. Testing the edges. Making sure that everything works, that there are no vulnerabilities. Even one, and he’ll know that his daughter isn’t safe with me. That it could all come crashing down.

  And realistically, it could. Relationships end. I know it happens.

  I just don’t see how it could possibly happen to us. Not with the depths of how I feel. Not with the way she looks back at me. Whatever comes up, it couldn’t possibly be stronger than us.

  “No, I don’t think that will be necessary,” I say. We haven’t discussed this yet, and it’s a bit of a risk, but I’m willing to take it. I have a feeling that Gabby will agree, anyway. “Gabby can move in with me.”

  “With you?” Dean repeats, looking at me and Gabby both with incredulity. “You’re going to have her move in with you after a week? In your penthouse?”

  There are two parts to that question, and the good news is I’ve thought about them both. “I know it’s fast, but that’s how committed I am,” I say. “I’m not backing down from this. So long as Gabby is happy too, she can live with me.”

  “Of course, I am,” Gabby says immediately, squeezing my hand. There’s a slight flush in her cheeks, a flush of happiness. “It’ll give us the chance to spend as much time together as possible. I’m not afraid. We’ve already been on top of each other all week – staying in the same place, I mean. I don’t think we’ll annoy each other so much that it becomes a problem.”

  I laugh slightly at her phrasing, though I quickly clear my throat and brush it off, hyper-aware of the fact that Dean is watching us. “And as for the penthouse being too small, I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

  “Of course, it won’t,” Gabby agrees warmly. She gives a half-laugh. “It’s not like I have much stuff here with me, anyway. I won’t take up much room.”

  “No, that’s not why,” I tell her. I vary my glances between her and Dean, aware that I’
m telling them both the news at the same time. “I wouldn’t make you live like you’re only half here. We can arrange to have your things couriered over, just like you would for college anyway. More than that, even. You can even bring your furniture over if you want. I’ll pay for it.”

  “Where would it fit?” Gabby asks, but then she blushes, glancing at the screen. “I mean, I’d be happy to have my things. I just don’t know where it would all go.”

  “That won’t be a problem,” I say. A grin escapes my lips, something I’m not able to hold back. I can’t wait to tell her this. I’m so excited about it myself, I can’t help it. “The thing is, while I’ve been away from work, my assistant hasn’t had much to do after rearranging all my meetings. So, I gave him another task to do. He’s been looking for homes that might possibly work for us – somewhere we can live for the longer term. Somewhere we might be able to bring up a family.”

  “Oh, wow,” Gabby breathes.

  “You think a London townhouse is going to solve all of my concerns?” Dean asks, frowning.

  “No,” I say calmly, looking back at the screen. “That’s why I haven’t been asking him just to look in London. He’s been looking in all of the locations where Gabby’s been considering going to college, as well as closer to the family home. Wherever she wants to live, that’s where we’ll go.”

  “You’d give up London for me?” Gabby asks, her eyes wide. “But… you love it here. You’re so comfortable.”

  “Yes,” I say. “But I love you more. Wherever you want to call home, that’s where I’ll be. I’m not going anywhere without you.”

  “Oz,” Gabby whispers, her eyes saying everything she can’t. The love, the awe in response to what I’m offering. I give it all back to her in my own gaze. Nothing else matters except this. Even if Dean doesn’t approve, in the end, it means nothing. I only want to make one person in the whole world happy, and I’d burn the rest of it down in order to do that. Gabby is the only one that matters now.

  Dean coughs again, awkwardly, like he doesn’t want to watch our private moment. We turn back to the screen, and I’m heartened to see his face. His eyes cast down like he can’t quite look at us. His expression has softened.

  I can see it. He’s coming around.

  “It sounds like you’ve thought everything through,” he says, shaking his head just a little. “I don’t know how you’ve even had time.”

  “It’s not about time,” I say. “When I’m sure about something, I move on it. You know that.”

  “I do,” he admits. He’s seen me at work. And never once has he ever seen me go back on a decision. It’s what I’m good at. Knowing the lay of the land, knowing my own self. Seeing opportunities and jumping on them. I don’t get it wrong. I just don’t.

  “So, Dad?” Gabby asks. Her voice is hopeful, her face open and raw. She wants his approval, I can see that. But I can also feel, in how tightly she grips my hand, that it’s not the be-all and end-all. If he still doesn’t approve, if he tells us to stop this and wants her to come home, it won’t change the way we feel about each other. This is it – me and her against the world.

  He sighs, looking down again. Finally, when he looks up, I see it. The expression in his eyes that I was hoping for. There it is.

  “I don’t think there’s anything I can say to make you change your mind, is there?” he says. “You two… the way you look at each other. You mean it. Or, at least, you believe you do.”

  “Yes,” Gabby says, in a rush. “Yes, Dad, we do.”

  “Then…” he pauses, then nods. “Then I don’t think I’m going to be able to stand in your way. I don’t want to give you the impression that I’m totally happy with this because I’m not, but… I know you. Both of you. And I know that no one’s going to stop either of you from doing what you want.”

  We both laugh, a sound made of both happiness and relief. “You’re right,” I say. “Fire, famine, flood, or earthquake couldn’t stop me. Dean, you’ve got no chance.”

  “I know,” he says. But then he gets really serious. “But if you hurt my daughter, Oswald Patterson, you won’t have any chance either. And sweetie, you’re welcome home at any time. Any time. I mean it.”

  Gabby grins and nods, but I have one more thing up my sleeve that will hopefully put his final concerns to rest.

  “I hope you’re going to stop worrying as much, Dean,” I say, shifting in my seat. “There’s one more thing I haven’t told either of you – and I think it’s going to help show you how serious I am.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Gabby

  I look at Oz in surprise. He’s already dropped the bombshell that he’s willing to leave London for me, that he wants me to move in with him, and that he’s even going to buy a new house for us to live in. What else could there possibly be?

  But then he slips out of his seat, which has me wondering even more. And then…

  And then he gets down on one knee in front of me, and it’s all I can do not to scream in surprise.

  Excited, overwhelmed, but a positive surprise.

  “Gabby,” he says. “I know it’s only been a week. But for me, it’s been a lifetime of waiting for you, of waiting to find that person that would be right for me. I don’t want to wait any longer. I’m so sure that you’re the right one for me that I’ll risk it all. Money, property, business – it doesn’t mean anything in comparison to you. I won’t ask for a prenup. I won’t risk that we might not be able to stay together because of visa issues. Gabby, marry me – make me the happiest man on earth. And do it soon please.”

  I laugh, with joy and wonder, clapping my hands over my mouth as my eyes fill with tears. From somewhere, I don’t even know where he’s produced a small ring box and popped it open. A beautiful diamond ring is propped up on the black velvet pillow inside, ready and waiting for me to pluck it out and try it on.

  “Oh, my god, Oz,” I say, managing to get the words out of my mouth with some serious difficulty. “Yes. Yes. A hundred, thousand times, yes!”

  When he leaps up from his position to embrace me, holding me close against him, the both of us are laughing. And from the sound of his laughter, with a wet edge to it, I know I’m not the only one crying in happiness, either. We cling to each other like we’re drowning and need to stay afloat, and it’s like that in itself is the thing lifting us to the surface. It’s the best feeling I’ve ever felt, a pure kind of happiness that fills me up from the inside and makes me feel like nothing is ever going to be bad again.

  When I finally stop crying enough to pull back, Oz takes the ring from the box and slides it onto my finger. It’s a perfect fit. It’s incredible. From the look on his face, I can see that he didn’t expect it, either – he hasn’t had enough time to get a ring resized, let alone subtly figure out my finger size in the first place, so it must have been his best guess only. It fits like it was meant to be there, and my hand feels whole all of a sudden. I never even knew it was missing something.

  I glance at the screen, and I see something totally unexpected. Not only is my dad there looking emotional, but behind him over his shoulder, my mom is there with a hand over her mouth. Tears are streaming down her face, and she has the biggest smile under that hand.

  “Mom?” I say.

  “Sweetie, I heard voices and came over earlier,” she says. “I didn’t want to interrupt before. I was just listening. But… oh, my darling…”

  “I’m so happy, Mom,” I say, my voice almost lost in tears.

  “I can see that sweetie,” she says. And with how happy she looks for me in turn, I know we’re not going to have any more problems with my dad. No matter what, mom is in my corner – and she’s going to make sure that dad toes the line when it comes to letting us be happy together.

  We all stay on the call for hours, talking and trying to calm down from everything that’s happened. The whole while, Oz keeps a tight grip on my hand where he sits next to me on the couch, except in the short break when he gets us both
some drinks. We watch the sun come up in my parent’s home – not my home any longer, I realize – as we talk away the hours.

  I tell them about the reason I actually came to London – the colleges. We talk over the pros and cons of each one of them, and how I feel like my instincts were right from the beginning, that the first college I looked at, the one where Oz studied himself, is going to be the best for me. Not because he studied there, but because it’s one of the best options in the world for business studies.

  And given that I won’t even necessarily need to have an income when I’m married to Oz, it might be a question more of where I feel more comfortable than where I need to get the best education. And really, even despite the closet incident and the potential embarrassment, I think I’ll have the best time there.

  “You think you’ll get in there?” Dad asks, to which mom swats his arm.

  “You know she will,” Mom says. “You’ve seen her grades. There’s no way they wouldn’t want to have her. She’s going to get in easily.”

  “Easily, hey?” Oz says, quirking an eyebrow as he looks in my direction. I guess we didn’t really discuss my grades.

  “Well,” I shrug, modestly.

  “Did she tell you about the colleges she’s applied for here?” Mom says. Trust her to always talk me up and brag about me. “She’s going Ivy League here, you know.”

  I blush, shaking my head. “We’ll see. But, if I get in… I’d really like to stay here in London. That was already the plan before all of this, after all.”

  “If you’re sure that’s why?” Dad says. I can see his eyes drifting to Oz, wondering whether I’m making a decision just based on being close to him. But that isn’t it.

  “He already said he’d move wherever I want to,” I say, addressing his concern directly with a smile. “Yes, Dad. I’m sure that’s why. I like the city. The colleges look great. And why just stay home and do what everyone else does? I think studying abroad is going to be really amazing.”