God, I can’t wait.
21
ALEX
It’s justafter seven on Thursday evening. Elijah and I hadn’t made plans to see each other tonight—something about important business he needed to take care of, and how it couldn’t wait. So I know he’s home, probably still tucked away in his office, surrounded by piles of papers, charts, spreadsheets. He’s so devoted—so hands-on with his team and the day-to-day details of his business. It’s no wonder he’s been so successful.
God, I’m so lucky to have met him.
I stop by a floral shop and purchase an assortment of two dozen rainbow-colored roses. They’re so beautiful, and their scent escapes into the summer air as I walk the five blocks to Elijah’s apartment. My smile is so wide that I’m surprised it doesn’t slide off my face.
I’ve never been this happy before.
I round the last corner, and Elijah’s elaborate building comes into view.I wonder if I’ll live there someday.I’m steps away, approaching the entrance to the secluded underground garage, shivers racing over my arms with excitement.
I catch a glimpse of Elijah exiting his building through the front lobby doors. His gorgeous face reaches toward the setting sun, absorbing the last of its dwindling rays. He looks so peaceful. Happy.
And I’m about to make him happier.
“Eli—”
I cut myself off before I even finish his name. My smile drops off my face—literally vanishes.
Because stepping outside behind him, directly in his wake, is Gabriel,who’s supposed to be in fucking Spain with my daughter!
He circles around Elijah, easy and familiar. His tussled brown hair lifts gently in the summer breeze, framing a sun-kissed complexion and striking Spaniard features—undeniably arousing to the human eye. He’s goddamn gorgeous.
And he’s supposed to be in fucking SPAIN!
He steps in front of Elijah—my Elijah. Wraps his arms lovingly around his waist, hugs him, and places a kiss on each side of Elijah’s blushing cheeks. He grazes his jawline with the tip of his thumb, outlines his lips, his stubble; those serious eyes glued to Elijah’s—and then he tenderly kisses him on the lips before turning and walking away. Elijah’s eyes never break from Gabriel, as he watches him stroll down the street, opposite from where I stand.
I’m still stuck in my stride, muscles folding in on themselves, like my body’s giving out from the inside. My eyes sting, wide and wet with disbelief.
Fucking Elijah!
I can’t fucking believe this.
I watch, stunned, as he finally turns away from Gabriel. His face sullen, unreadable. He walks back toward the lobby doors and pulls one open, then glances over his shoulder one last time.
I want to scream, fuckingscream!
The flowers slip from my hands and scatter across the sidewalk. Heat floods my face as I fight to hold back tears.
Fuck!
Then I feel it—someone watching me. Near the garage. Their stare burns into my skin.
I turn my head and my eyes collide with his—the beautiful young man from the elevator. Ballet slippers once again draped over his slender shoulders. And he’s watching me—watching me fucking fall apart.
I want to go over to him, grab his pretty face, and tangle my fucking tongue with his, lick those gorgeous, glossy lips.
But I won’t—of course I won’t.
I’m not fucking Elijah!
I rip my stare away from his—those damn clear blue eyes—and I see the exact moment Elijah notices me. His mouth falls open just as the lobby door is about to close in on him.
And I run.
