I can hardly believe I’m hearing him right. “You wanted it to be real,” I say slowly.
“Yeah,” he confesses. “Probably from the day we met, even if I wouldn’t admit it to myself. And sure, it was mostly lust at first, but within about a week it was a lot more. You were smart and funny, and so determined to get me to Heather’s stupid meeting.”
“I had no idea,” I say faintly.
The corner of his mouth hitches. “I know. At first I didn’t understand it myself, because I’d never felt anything like it. I was at a point where everything in my life was work, but you . . . you were joy. It was like an addiction. I’d bring that stupid lunch bag back to the office in the middle of the day, just so I could talk to you.”
It’s almost too much to absorb, and there’s a beat of silence while it sinks in. My mind spools crazily back over some of the things he said, seeing them through fresh eyes.
I remember him quoting Shakespeare at the Tates’, talking about a bright particular star.Because Alexandra’s luminous, and when we first met, I thought she was out of my reach.
He wanted it to be real.
A waiter appears next to our table, but melts away again after a look from Drew.
“So when I told Nina and Peter Tate I was dating you, it was because I’d been imagining it,” Drew says.
“But . . . why didn’t you tell me then?”
“I should’ve told you,” he admits wryly. “Actually, I was kind of surprised you didn’t guess. But you didn’t, and I’d put you in an awkward situation with the lie to the Tates. So it seemed like the best thing was to tell people we were in a relationship, for a few months at least. And if I’d told you how I felt and you weren’t interested in a real relationship, it would have been hard to pretend.”
“Oh. But . . . the night of the Spring Fling, you said you didn’t want to sleep with me?—”
“I lied,” he says simply. “But I wanted it to mean something. And you’d been talking about arranged marriages, and some sort of placebo effect, and I wanted it to be more than that.”
“But you only agreed when I said I wasn’t looking for a relationship either.”
“No, Ally,” he says. “I agreed because I ran out of willpower. And I should have told you then, but . . .” He hesitates, and a faint blush creeps across his cheeks. “You remember what I said about going all in on a dream? When we had dinner with your family?”
“Of course.” I’m pretty sure I’ll remember that speech for the rest of my life.
He nods. “You were the dream, Ally. And I wanted you so badly that I decided to hedge my bets.”
“What?”
“If I told you the truth and you didn’t feel the same way, we couldn’t have kept on with a fake relationship,” he explains. “Or even a casual one. So I decided to wait until the end of the summer to tell you how I felt. That way, even if you didn’t want a real relationship, I’d have you for three months. But then you left, and?—”
“I fell in love with you, Drew,” I blurt. “But I didn’t think you felt the same, so I decided to leave before I fell any deeper.”
Something sparks in his eyes and he stands, knocking over his chair as he steps around the table to pull me into his arms.
“I love you, you know,” he says roughly, squeezing me tight against his chest. I breathe him in, inhaling the familiar woodsy smell of his soap.
And I know that while triumph and disaster may be impostors, joy is real, and right now it’s filling me up.
“Will you come home with me?” he asks. “To Somerset? If you’re really set on working for Sarah Hayes we could try doing long-distance, but?—”
“I’ll come home,” I interrupt, and I feel his chest heave as he sighs with relief.
“Let’s go upstairs.” Drew’s breath is hot against my ear. “We’ll get room service.”
THIRTY-FOUR
DREW
An hour later, we finally get around to ordering dinner.
“What do you feel like?” I ask Ally, scrolling through the room service menu on my phone.
