Page 118 of Hard to Hold

The only woman I’ve ever let myself love.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

LENNOX

“I HAVE A MILLION THINGS I need to do, Johnny,” I say as he stands in the living room and stares at me.

“Like?”

“Like find Rory and talk him into confessing to this so Rush can be free and clear of this—”

“Rory?”

“It’s a long story. I’ll explain later.” I stare at my phone and the ten unanswered calls to Rory on my call log.

“What else?”

“I have to find a flight home.”

“Home? Already?” He laughs. “Talk about making me feel like chopped liver. The hired sex leaves and you bail on me.”

I eye him above the papers I have scattered all over the table. “That’s not—”

“You can admit it, you know,” he says as he takes a few steps toward me.

“Admit what?”

“That it was Rush who was holding you here. The MLS thing was over and it was time for you to go home, but there was Rush.”

Tears burn and I force a swallow down my throat. “Don’t do this. I can’t do this right now.”

“What? Break down and have a good cry? Why the hell not?” He takes a seat beside me and stares at me. “The sooner you do it, the better you’ll feel.”

“I can’t. I have all this work to do. I have—”

“Distractions. All of those things are distractions. Everyone in the UK is asleep right now. No one is going to be responding.” He turns me in my chair to face him and when I do, the tears are already there, the sob in my throat not far behind it.

And when Johnny pulls me against him in one of his reassuring hugs, I let myself cry for the first and only time over a man.

I let myself feel.

We were supposed to have two weeks of us. Lazy days where we made love in slow motion. Endless promises to talk or text.

Time.

Just time.

But maybe it is better this way. Maybe the best way is to rip the Band-Aid off instead of the slow pull that devours you with each and every hair it rips out on the way.

Maybe this is all for the better.

If that’s the case, then someone needs to tell my heart that too.

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

RUSH

Lennox: If she were in LA three weeks ago, the bruises would be gone by now. I’m trying to get a date stamp for that photo to prove it was taken recently. When she was in the UK and you were here.