“Christ.”
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
His gaze swept over me, head to toe, and I bit the corner of my bottom lip, suddenly shy. We hadn’t so much as brushed hands since the night of his father’s dinner and I was desperate to ask him what was happening. What we were.
“Evy,” he said, voice low, “you are beautiful.”
He stalked toward me, hands in the pockets of his suit pants and sleeves rolled up to reveal impressive forearms. For a second, I thought he might kiss me. He might tell me everything I’ve ever wanted to hear, only he stopped short, just beyond my reach.
“Thanks,” I grinned, uncomfortable under his close appraisal. “If you can’t go all out for a charity ball hosted by your fake parents-in-law, when can you?” The joke felt flat even to me. The reminder this was meant to end - painful. But if I couldn’t enjoy one of the last times it was going to be just us, what could I do?
“This is a good look on you,” he murmured, stepping forward before his breath brushed my face. I busied myself adjusting his already-perfect collar, anything to keep my hands occupied while he was this close.
Tenderly, he wound one of my curls around his finger and brushed the pad of his thumb across my jaw.
“Thank you,” he breathed, the soft curve of his lips a genuine mark of appreciation.
“Thankyou,” I replied. “I got an email today - a big, fat congratulations and an invitation to graduation,” I gleamed.
“Congratulations.” He leaned in, pressing a kiss to my cheek and my eyes closed of their own accord.
A deeply masculine wave of spice enveloped me and my hands slipped from his collar to rest on his chest.
“You’ve always been beautiful, intelligent and driven,” he said. “Now you have a degree to prove it. And, I have something for you. Been waiting for a moment like this.” He said, opening one of the drawers and pulling out a clear box displaying a watch. Handing it to me, I admired the gift, loving the way the green of the watch face matched perfectly with the emerald of my ring. A wave of emotion threatened to break through, but I held it back. Now wasn’t the time for me to lose my focus.
“Coop, I love it, thank you. But why did you get this for me?”
With another soft brush of his lips against my cheek, he cupped my face in both hands and looked into my eyes. “Because I’m sick of you asking me what time it is,” he said, a grin tugging at the edges of his mouth. “It’s also a thank you for everything,” he added. “Not just the work stuff - but for playing pretend. For lying to people you care about… for me.”
I looked at him, heart tugging, a flicker of nerves dancing beneath the surface. My internship and being here was really, really almost over - I realised lucidly. This chapter, this strange closeness we’d shared could very well come to an end tonight, and the thought tightened something in my chest.
“Don’t thank me until after our meeting on Monday,” I said, managing a crooked smile, hoping the joke would mask the ache beneath.
“Then I guess I’ll save therealthank you for after,” he said softly, eyes searching mine.
A pause.
Something almost rose to the surface, but he swallowed it back, the moment slipping between us, and I wondered what he was thinking. “You’ll still be around after though, right?”
That little boy was lingering just below the surface, and I wanted to reach out and grab him. Tell him he wasn’t alone, didn’t have to be alone.
“Of course,” I said instead. “I’ve loved the city, so I’ll be livingclose by, but you just won’t have to pretend to love me anymore.” I tried to make light of it, but the joke limped out awkwardly.
He didn’t laugh. Just stared at me with a faint crease between his brows, something unspoken flickering in his eyes.
Then, barely audible, he whispered, “Couldn’t, even if I tried,” before his lips met mine with an aching gentleness. His hand brushed my jaw, steadying me like he wasn’t sure if I’d pull away, or worse, if he should. I leant into it, feeling the reverence in the familiar stokes of his tongue against mine, like he was trying to memorise the moment, the feel of me, the way we fit together. And it was with sudden clarity that I realised, it felt like a goodbye, disguised as something almost akin to love.
And too soon it was over.
He pulled back slowly, as if letting go of me hurt. I brushed my finger across his bottom lip, leaving a trace of my lip gloss behind - and he watched hesitant, as if he couldn’t look away.
The air hung heavy between us, thick with everything he couldn’t say and all the questions I didn’t dare ask.
“Let’s talk after.” He said eventually and I nodded.
“Okay. You ready then?” I asked, as if I’d been the one to come to him.
His nod was subtle as he reached for my hand, his eyes lingering on the ring he’d given me. And it was right on the tip of my tongue to ask him to talk to me now. To beg him for his thoughts, until he grinned that familiar, practiced smile. Only, the mask was back in place.
