“This is basically breaking and entering, you realize that, right?”
“I have a key.”
“This is a bad idea,” Selene says. But she still follows me inside.
Kylie definitely isn’t here. Everything is spotless. No dishes in the sink, no random crap left out on the couch or coffee table. I glance in her bedroom. The bed is made and there’s no sign she’s been here recently.
It doesn’t look like she slept at home last night.
My chest feels hollow again, the emptiness taking over. I’m too late.
“I’m sorry.” Selene rubs her hand across my back. “Would she have stayed over at her dad’s?”
“No,” I say. “She never sleeps there.”
Selene sighs and looks around. Her phone buzzes in her hand and she almost drops it. She puts a hand to her mouth and looks.
My heart races again. “Is it her?”
“Yeah,” Selene says. She looks up and meets my eyes. “She says she’s in London.”
I burst out laughing.
“What?” Selene asks. “Why the fuck is that funny? What’s she doing in London?”
Holy shit, I’m so proud of her. “It’s something she’s always wanted to do. We were supposed to go for New Year’s. I returned the tickets already, but I guess she decided to go. Quick, ask her if she’s alone.”
Selene types and we wait.
“She says she went by herself.”
Elation pours through me and I put a hand on my chest. She’s not with someone else. I can still do this. “Oh, fuck. That’s the best thing I’ve heard in six weeks. Let’s go.”
I head for the front door.
“Where are we going now?” Selene asks.
“Home to pack,” I say. “We’re going to London.”
Getting a flight on such short notice proves to be a challenge. The next five flights with seats left all have layovers in places like Chicago and Denver—cities currently blanketed in snow. There’s no way I’m going to risk getting stuck in a fucking blizzard before I can get to London. I want to leave sooner, but I book a nonstop flight that leaves tomorrow, and has us landing in London at noon on New Year’s Eve.
Waiting feels like an eternity. I insist on getting to the airport three hours early. Selene is annoyed, but I’d rather sit at the gate than risk getting caught in security and missing the flight.
I sip a cup of coffee while Selene lounges with a book next to me. The airport is busy, people coming and going all around us.
“I hate to say this now,” Selene says, “but you know we could wait until she comes home, right? It’s not like she moved. She’s just on a little vacation.”
I shake my head. “No.”
“I mean, we’re here, and we’re going,” she says. “I just needed to point out that this is kind of crazy.”
“If we could have flown out yesterday, I would have,” I say. “I’m not waiting a minute longer than I have to.”
Selene smiles at me.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing.” She shakes her head. “I just never thought I’d see the day.”
“What day?”
“Never mind.”
Our flight is delayed. Of course it is. We wait another two hours before we finally board. Once we’re on, I can hardly sit still; Selene keeps smacking my knee to make me stop fidgeting.
Ten hours is a long time to be cooped up in a giant metal tube that’s hurtling through the air at thirty thousand feet. I have a drink to calm down, and eventually I doze for a while. Selene sleeps for a few hours with her head on my arm.
By the time we touch down, I’m wide awake again. The landing gear hits the runway, and I’m buzzing with adrenaline. I have no idea where Kylie is, or how I’m going to find her. Selene checks her messages when we have cell service again, and Kylie hasn’t replied to any of her texts. I hope she’s checking in with her dad regularly, because this dead phone thing when she’s in a foreign country is bullshit.
We didn’t check bags, but it takes a little while to get through customs and immigration. When we get out of the airport, Selene calls Kylie’s dad to see if he knows where she is. I would call him, but I’m not sure how he feels about me. He must know what I did to Kylie, and I owe him an apology, but right now, we’re in a city of almost nine million people and all I can think about is finding her.
“Hi, Henry,” Selene says when he answers. “Yeah, I’m good. Listen, I’m going to cut to the chase. Do you know where Kylie is? Right, I know she’s in London. Do you know where in London?” Selene waits for a moment, listening. “Yeah, we’ve been trying to call her too.” Selene meets my eyes. “Oh, her battery was dying and she needed to get an adapter so she could plug it in? Okay, but where is she staying? Um, we’re actually here. Yes, in London. Yeah, I’m with Braxton. Exactly. We literally just landed. Okay, Morton Hotel. Got it. Yes, I’ll call you later.”
She hangs up. “Morton Hotel.”
I’m already looking it up on my phone. We get in line for a taxi. The tube would be cheaper, but I don’t give a fuck at this point.
The taxi drops us off in front of the hotel. The entry is nice, with a tall arched doorway, glass doors, and stone accents. I head straight for the front desk. I know they won’t tell me what room Kylie’s in, but I figure I can get Selene a room for the night so we have a place to put our stuff. We didn’t bring much, but there’s no sense in carrying it all over the city if we have to go out and search for her.
I don’t bother getting a room for myself. I plan to be with Kylie tonight.
“Can I leave a message for another guest?” I ask, when I have Selene’s room taken care of.
“Of course,” the front desk attendant says. “Room number?”
“I’m actually not sure,” I say. “I don’t suppose you could look it up and tell me?”
“I’m afraid not,” she says.
I shake my head. “Of course not.” I grab one of the business cards and scrawl a note on the back.
I love you. Brax
“Can you just make sure this gets to Kylie Winters’ room?”
“Yes, that won’t be a problem,” she says.
“Thanks.”
I hand Selene her room key and we head for the stairs.
“What do we do now?” she asks.
“You look exhausted, so why don’t you go lie down,” I say. “I’ll wait down here for a while and see if she comes through the lobby.”
“God, Braxton, she could be anywhere,” Selene says.
“I know. We’ll find her.”
She takes a deep breath. “Okay, call me if you see her.”
“I will.”
Selene takes my backpack and goes upstairs. I find a chair that gives me a good view of the lobby and front entrance. I’m tired as shit, but I don’t want to miss her if she walks by.
***
I wake up with a start. Fuck, I fell asleep in the damn lobby. I check my phone, but I don’t have any calls or texts. It’s five-thirty. I must have been out for about an hour. I hope I didn’t miss her. I guess there’s not much chance that she would walk by and not see me—except that she’s not expecting me to be here. I hope the front desk got my note to her room. She’ll see it’s my handwriting. She’ll have to know I’m here.
I should probably stay in one place and wait for her to come to me, but after ten minutes, I can’t stand it anymore. It’s stupid to think I can wander around this huge city and actually find her—but fuck it, I need to do something, not just sit on my ass. I consider waking Selene so she can come do lobby duty, but I decide to let her sleep. She’d probably just fall asleep in the chair like I did. An overnight flight and an eight-hour time difference are no joke.
Walking aimlessly through London isn’t going to cut it, so I think about what I know. Where would Kylie go? What would she want to see? I pull up some travel info on my phone, pick a few places that sound right, and head out into the cold.
The sun is already down; the clear sky is
going to make for a freezing night. I have a coat, but I pop into a shop and buy a dark gray hat and scarf, and a pair of black leather gloves. I’ve been to London once before, and navigating around the city comes back to me pretty quickly. I take the tube, coming up at various places where I think I might find her. I check my phone way too often, hoping she’ll get my note and call.
I try to ignore the fact that she could easily get my note and not call.
I stop in another shop and buy her an adapter so she can charge her fucking phone.
By nine, I’m starving, so I grab some food and take it back to the hotel. Selene is up and showered. She asks how my evening went, but I don’t have anything to show for it except sore feet.
“So, what should we do?” Selene asks after we finish eating. “Watch for her in the lobby?”
I check the time. It’s just after ten. Still no call.
“How about you hang out downstairs and keep watch,” I say. “I can’t sit down there doing nothing. I’ll go nuts. I have a couple more ideas.”
“Okay, if that’s what you think is best.”
I leave Selene in the lobby and head out into the cold. I pass a few pubs with New Year’s Eve parties starting up, but I don’t see Kylie. I keep telling myself my instincts are going to lead me to her, but I strike out everywhere I go.
I take the tube again to a different part of the city. I find a place that serves coffee and warm up for a little while. Even all bundled up, I’m fucking freezing. Selene texts me once to check in, but she hasn’t seen her. There’s a party going on in the hotel bar, and Selene reports doing a couple laps through the crowd to see if Kylie is there, but so far, no luck.
I’m starting to think Selene was right. We should have just waited until she came home. Mr. Winters said she’s flying home tomorrow anyway. It would have been a hell of a lot easier—and cheaper—to just wait. Maybe I am crazy.
But I couldn’t wait. I still can’t. The clock is ticking toward midnight, and I’m overcome with a deep sense of urgency. If I let her start the new year without me, I’m afraid I’ll end it without her. Afraid my chance will be gone.
I think about where we were a year ago. I remember her at my sister’s party—standing in the kitchen, dressed in that hot little black dress and sexy red heels, ditched by whatever jackass Selene set her up with. I almost kissed her, right then. I was probably drunk, and it would have been a stupid thing to do. I was dating someone else at the time. I knew she’d been counting on starting her year off right. We’d talked the day before about resolutions and making changes. In the back of my mind, the thought bloomed: What if this was our year? What if next New Year’s Eve I was the one kissing her?
I almost had it. And now my chance is ticking away with every minute.
That’s when it hits me.
Big Ben. She wanted to watch it hit midnight.
I rush out of the restaurant to the nearest tube station. Fuck, how do I get there? I look at the map, figuring out the route, and board the right train.
I check the time. Eleven forty-two. Shit. How long is this going to take?
The train stops. I dash out and run up to the street.
Half of fucking London is here. The crowd is huge, the cold obviously not keeping people from coming out to celebrate. I’m inundated by crazy hats, waving glow sticks, necklaces with blinking lights. I push my way into the mass, keeping the huge clock in my sights.
I’m never going to find her in this.
I make my way closer to Westminster, but the crowd gets thicker. I know she’s out here somewhere. She has to be. It’s why she came. I glance up at the clock. Five minutes.
My phone vibrates, but it’s a text from Selene. Any luck?
I type a quick no and keep looking.
My breath comes out in a cloud in the cold air. I look into the faces of everyone I pass, desperate.
Fuck, Kylie, I’m here. I came all this way. Where are you?
Eleven fifty-six.
People are packed around me. She isn’t here. She hates big crowds. She wouldn’t stand here; she’d be where she can see without suffocating. I turn around and start pushing my way back toward the edge of the crowd. I check my phone again.
Eleven fifty-seven.
The energy around me rises, people cheering, blowing noisemakers, holding up cell phones to take pictures. Some drunk asshole stumbles into me, and I catch him, pushing him back to his feet while he laughs. I get to where the crowd thins out and stop, looking around.
Eleven fifty-eight.
I see her before she sees me. My chest tightens; the breath rushes from my lungs. God, she’s beautiful. She’s bundled up in a cream-colored hat and a black coat with a thick collar. Her cheeks are flushed from the cold, and she’s staring at the clock, blowing into her hands to warm them.
My heart tries to break free from my ribs. I’m overcome—desperate to hold her again, terrified she won’t forgive me. I force myself to walk toward her, focusing on each step.
Her face turns and her eyes widen. Her lips part in surprise.
She sees me.
I stare at the man walking toward me, my heart suddenly racing. It can’t be Braxton. I’m in London. He doesn’t know where I am. And even if he found out, he’s in Seattle. He’s not here.
Except he is.
He’s as gorgeous as ever, goddamn him. He’s wearing a dark wool coat and scarf, and he pulls off a pair of black leather gloves, tucking them in his pocket. A hat covers his hair, but it only emphasizes his rugged jaw and smoldering brown eyes.
My belly flip-flops and my heart beats too fast. I’m completely frozen, staring in disbelief. I can’t decide if I want to collapse into his arms and cry, or slap him for showing up here and ruining my New Year’s Eve.
I want to be angry. I want to turn my back and tell him I meant it when I said I never wanted to see him again. But he moves closer, and his expression unmakes me. A groove forms between his eyes and the lines of his jaw stand out. He looks so … wounded. His eyes move over me like he never expected to see me again.
Maybe he didn’t.
The crowd starts to count down.
Ten … nine …
He stands right in front of me, his eyes full of so much pain. Mine fill with tears, and I bite my lip to keep them from spilling over.
Eight … seven …
He doesn’t look away, holding my gaze with his. I’m transfixed. His presence is mesmerizing.
Six … five …
I tilt my face up as he moves in closer.
Four … three …
He leans down. I can see how hard he’s breathing.
Two …
His hand slips into my open coat, around my waist, and he draws me close.
One.
He claims my mouth with his, pushing his tongue in deep. I open for him, sucking in a hard breath, and grab his coat. I pull him closer. His lips on mine feel so good, so perfect, so right. Oh god, I missed him so much. A tear leaks from the corner of my eye, running down my cheek. His arms wrap around me, strong and possessive. He holds the back of my head, keeping our mouths locked together. I couldn’t pull away if I tried.
I cling to the lapels of his coat, falling, crashing, crumbling to pieces. I’m consumed by him—taken. Vaguely, I hear the fireworks, the huge crowd cheering.
He doesn’t stop kissing me. I’m surrounded by his scent, intoxicating and familiar. His mouth, so warm and soft. I melt against him, my body going fluid. I’m surprised my legs will still hold me up.
He pulls back, but our lips don’t part. He holds me there, his breath hot on my face, his arms around me.
My shoulders shake, and the tears come.
He breaks the kiss and holds me against him while I sob into his chest. It can’t be him. This can’t be real.
He speaks softly, his mouth next to my ear. “Kylie, I am so sorry. Please tell me I didn’t lose you forever. Please, baby girl.” His voice breaks. “I love you.”
I le
an back so I can look up at him, tears still running down my face. He wipes my cheek with his thumb. My throat feels thick and I’m not sure I can get any words out. I open my mouth, my lower lip still trembling. “I love you, too.”
His legs buckle slightly, and he grabs onto me. For a second I think we both might fall over, but he’s steady. He clings to me, burying his face in my neck. “Oh, god, Kylie, I fucking love you so much,” he says, speaking low into my ear. “I’ll never leave you again. I swear. Never.”
I tremble against him, trying to catch my breath. I wrap my arms around his neck and hold onto him for dear life.
Braxton. My Braxton.
After long moments, he pulls away. The loud bang of fireworks continues, the crowd cheering with every explosion.
I finally find my voice again. “What are you doing here?”
“I had to come see you,” he says. “I couldn’t wait.”
Reality coalesces in my mind, the truth of what I’m seeing: Braxton, standing here, in London, in the middle of the night.
“How long have you been here?”
“We got in earlier today,” he says. “We’ve been trying to find you for hours.”
“We?”
“Yeah, Selene’s watching the hotel lobby in case you come back.”
I gape at him, astounded. “Selene’s here?”
He nods. “Of course she is. She wanted to help.”
“Help? I don’t understand.”
“Kylie, I made such a mistake. Leaving you was the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever done, and I’ve done a lot of stupid things in my life.” He puts a hand on my cheek. “I didn’t mean a word I said that night. I thought I had to do it. I thought I had to choose between you and my sister, and I didn’t know what else to do. But I was wrong. I was so wrong, and I’ll do anything to make it right.”
I take a breath, my body shivering. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
“It took me too long to figure out where you’d be,” he says. “I almost didn’t make it.”
“Braxton, you flew halfway across the world for this?”
“Yeah,” he says, and the groove forms between his eyes again, his expression intensifying. “I did. I had to. I have something to ask you, and it couldn’t wait. It had to be tonight.”
Always Have: (Bad Boy Romance) Page 18
