“I’m good, thanks. Nearly done,” she replied, moving to her drawers and pulling out some pyjamas.
“Quentin, about the other week —”
“Mhm?” She kept her back to me.
Walking into the room, I grabbed her by the hips and turned her around to face me. Beneath my hands, she trembled nervously.
“I’m sorry,” I said without prompt. “I overstepped the mark, and I shouldn’t have.”
Ever since our impromptu kiss, things had changed between us. Another round of avoiding each other without underlying anger. Quen wouldn’t look at me. She’d disappear the moment I walked into a room, locking herself away upstairs. It drove me mad that she’d slipped through my fingers again.
She shook her head, her focus on the floor.
“Please, Scott,” I said, lifting her chin, so she’d look at me. The pain in my chest eased as we locked eyes. “It won’t happen again.” There was a pause. “Not unless you want it to.”
The smile pulled at her lips, and she smacked me in the chest. I laughed and pulled her into a hug. Her body moulded against mine and I took in a deep breath, revelling in honey and orange. She wrapped her arms tight around me and I basked in the peace the simple gesture brought.
When we came apart, I regretted letting her go. The cold space that was left felt too prominent. Demanded too much attention to be rectified, but I couldn’t keep her with me no matter how much I wanted to.
“I can drop you off at the airport, if you want,” I offered. “I could take you straight to the hotel.”
“Matthew’s taking me.”
“Of course.” I ran a hand through my hair, messing the neat style. “I should let you finish packing and get some rest.” I moved towards the door and looked over my shoulder. “I’ll miss you, Scott.”
When she didn’t say anything, I left the room. Halfway down the hall, I heard a soft whisper.
“I’ll miss you too, Gray.”
“What are you doing here?” Erik asked, walking into the kitchen of his host's house.
I sat in the dark, nursing a glass of whiskey in the early hours of the morning. The dim light of the moon shone through the window and left a patch of light on the tiles.
“I couldn’t be in the house on my own any longer,” I explained.
“What?”
“Scott. She left for her conference two days ago. The house is too quiet. I can’t stay there.”
Erik nodded, and I poured another glass, pushing it towards him.
“Gray, are you hurt?” he asked me suddenly.
I drained my glass and shook my head. “No.”
“I can feel —”
“I have this weird pain here.”
I gestured around my chest. Erik paled. I might not have wanted to admit it, but we both knew this wasn’t a medical issue. If it was, Aria would have been here in a flash. This was a pain only Erik could pick up on.
This was heartache.
“Gray, please let me read you,” he pleaded in the darkness.
I’d been fighting against this for weeks, but I was tired. For the first time in my existence, I was exhausted, and I needed him to tell me what I already knew; that I’d fucked up and caught feelings for a woman that I shouldn’t have.
It would pass. Hearts healed, given time. We’d forget about each other and move on with our lives once the project was completed.
