I tiptoe to the other side of the room and rummage through the bag Sinclair packed for me, looking for something I can put on over my pajamas. My hand brushes something hard and I grab my phone from the nightstand, using the light on it to see as I take the object out.
Jenny’s giant smile radiates through the glass, and my throat thickens. I glance over at Sterling, sleeping. Sinclair’s never noticed this photo before. Why would she? It’s always facing out of my window.
I swallow, recalling the hushed tone Sterling used to speak to Denver while he was waiting for Sinclair at my apartment.
This man…
I clutch the frame to my chest and screw my stinging eyes shut. He deserves more, just like Sinclair said. He deserves it all.
“And you really think I’m the one to give it to him, don’t you?” I whisper, partly to Jenny, partly to the universe.
I walk to the window, setting the frame down, facing it toward the city. My steps are gentle as I return to the bed and lift the thick comforter off. I carry it to the wide couch and drape it over Sterling.
Then I lift one side and slide underneath it, beside him.
“Hallie?” The gentle rasp of his sleepy voice has me inching closer, and he lifts his arm, welcoming me into his side like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Is your head hurting, Baby girl?”
“No.” I place my head over his chest and listen to the steady thump of his heart as I sink into his warm embrace.
“Good,” he murmurs, his lips dusting my forehead in a tender kiss.
I squeeze my eyes shut and wrap myself around him, relishing every inch of where our bodies melt into one another.
I can’t tell him it’s my heart that hurts. Not my head.
The heart that wishes and prays that I didn’t have to leave.
I thought I was coming here to help him. That he was the one who had to learn how to open himself up. What if it was actually me who needed his help? Only in accepting it, I’ve made everything more complicated.
And those complications mean one thing.
Someone will get hurt.
19
STERLING
I kiss Hallie’s forehead.
I should get up. But I allow myself a few precious moments watching her as the early morning sun seeps in through the shades.
She’s an angel. A beautiful, magical angel. I brush a lock of ice-blonde hair from her face and hold my breath as she sighs, then settles again. I haven’t slept well in over two years. But with her in my arms last night, I came the closest to feeling peace that I ever have.
A vibrating breaks my gaze from her face, and I slide my arm out from beneath her slowly, careful not to wake her. I climb off the couch, heading straight for the source before it disturbs her. Her phone is on the nightstand, lit up with an incoming call from an unknown number. I pick it up and hit answer as I walk out of the bedroom and close the door behind me.
“Halliday? I’m calling from work so this needs to be quick. But I need you to transfer me thirty?—”
“Sorry, Miss Burton isn’t available right now. Who is this?”
I walk into the kitchen and flick on the coffee machine.
The guy on the other end stalls.
“Who’s this?”
“I asked first,” I reply, fetching two mugs.
“It’s Rory. Can you get her to call me back ASAP?”
