"Yes, she'd love that. Olly, you are too good to be true."
I'm glad she can't see my face because there’s one thing I know—I'm not worthy of her, especially when she makes comments like that.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
RACHEL
Olly has been spending more time training at the gym with his charity fight coming up. We see one another whenever we can, and we’re making it work for the most part. But I wonder why he puts up with us, with me.
Molly is staying with Sophie, who wouldn’t take no for an answer. Said there was too much sexual frustration and was concerned we were both ready to combust.
Olly told me to dress up, said we were going out in the city, but refused to tell me where. He arrived at mine with a bouquet and a box of chocolates. I’ve never been wooed before, not like this. He even opened the passenger car door for me. You see these kinds of things in the movies, but to have it play out in real life is even better.
“Where are we going?” I ask for the umpteenth time.
He laughs and squeezes my thigh. “You’ll see. We’re almost there,” he says, turning onto another back street before entering a car park. As soon as the barrier raises, he drives in and around into an open space, markedreserved.
“Did you book the space?” I ask, eying the sign again.
Unclipping his seatbelt, he leans over the centre console and gives me a chaste kiss. “Yes. I didn’t want to be searching for a parking space all night.”
Okay, so he put some thought into tonight.I unclip my seatbelt and reach for the door handle, but he grabs my arm to stop me.
“Wait, let me get the door for you,” he says, and my insides melt. Seconds later, he’s opening the door and holding out his hand. “You ready?” he asks.
“Well, depends. Are you telling me where we’re going?”
“You are impatient. You’ll see—it’s just a five-minute walk.” I can’t help but admire him in his black jeans and dress shoes. The light blue shirt he’s donning causes the violet hues of his eyes to pop, making him even more irresistible.
I’m grateful—these heels are not designed for long-distance. I bought them on sale, but the great price didn’t diminish the guilt of indulgence. I shake my head, cutting those thoughts off. Because tonight, for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel like a single mum. I feel…sexy. Confident. Young. I hook my arm in his as he leads the way through throngs of people who are bustling all over.
“Here we are,” he says.
I pause and look up.No way?“The Shard?” My adrenaline spikes, and I know my face must be beaming.
“Yeah—is that okay?”
“Yes, of course. I’ve always wanted to come. The view is meant to be amazing.” A lightness in my chest has me struggling not to giggle like a schoolgirl.
“Come on,” he says, leading me into the lobby. After he gives his name, we bypass the queues and go through security before proceeding to the escalators.
We take an elevator and soar upwards through the London skyline. He pulls out his phone.
“Smile,” he says into my ear, and my stomach flutters wildly as he snaps a couple selfies of us.
“I thought we could go to the viewing gallery and have a drink before dinner,” he says.
I squeeze his hand. “Sounds perfect.”
After another elevator and a small flight of steps, we walk out onto an indoor viewing gallery. An orchestral soundtrack plays overhead as he orders us both a glass of champagne. When they arrive, he tilts his towards mine with a clink. “Cheers,” he says, taking a small sip, his eyes penetrating.
“This is breathtaking,” I say as he guides me over to the vast windows, the sun setting over the city of London—swirled in yellows, oranges, and reds.
“Not as breathtaking as you in this little black dress,” he says into my ear, my insides fluttering from his compliment.
“It’s amazing, look.” I point out the Tower of London.
“Bet you want to paint now, don’t you?”
