Lost to You - - (readera ebook reader TXT) 📗
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But in the end, I’d missed him too much. The hole he left behind was too great. There was nothing I could do but concede.
Being around him had become a risk I was willing to take.
“I’m glad I am, too.”
He pulled back a bit, and his smile widened before he turned to raise his free hand to hail an approaching cab.
Our breaths rose up and mixed in the crisp night air. The fingers loosened at my arm and glided down to take my hand as the cab pulled to the curb. Christian opened the door and stood aside.
“Scoot in first.” He pressed his palm lightly to the small of my back.
Energy sparked with the light contact. My heart leapt to my throat.
Being around Christian had thrown my nerves into overdrive.
I scooted all the way across the back seat. Adjusting my skirt, I pulled the seat belt across my chest and snapped it in place.
Christian plopped down beside me with a heavy exhale. “I can’t believe how cold it is out there.”
He puffed hot air from his lungs into the cup of his hands before he rubbed them together, then turned his face my direction.
Dim light from the streetlamps bled through the windows, illuminating the confined space. Chunks of black hair had come loose from the style he’d tried to tame it into, pieces sticking up in every direction they shouldn’t be.
His chin was held strong in an emotion I didn’t understand, his mouth twisted in a timid smile.
But his eyes . . . Was I wrong, what I saw there? The same thing I thought I’d glimpsed on the sidewalk when we left my apartment five minutes earlier?
I got lost there, in the expression of his face that conveyed everything I wanted him to feel.
Internally, I cautioned myself.
Images from last weekend sped in blips across my vision.
I thought of how I’d begged him with my body before I’d begged him with my mouth to feel the same way I did, and I was haunted by his expression when he’d walked out my door.
I had to remember the devastation that had made it hard to get out of bed in the days he’d been gone.
The truth was, I was so desperate for him that I would delude myself into believing this was something it was not. The cliff was so close, my knees weak and my feet fumbling as I struggled to balance, my heart on the line. I was one slip from complete destruction. Christian would own me with a flick of his fingers.
He leaned forward and grasped the headrest in his hands, giving the driver directions to the restaurant. His long body filled the small space, his knees pressed up against the back of the seat.
The driver nodded, and Christian sat back and adjusted himself into a comfortable position, pulling the seatbelt across his chest.
The car merged into traffic, the silence thick as the simmering darkness within the cab surrounded us.
I stole a glance to my left. Well, it wasn’t exactly stolen since Christian was already looking at me.
He rested one side against the door, his elbow on the windowsill and his head propped in his hand as he unabashedly stared. Streetlamps flashed through the windows in quick succession as the cab traveled down the road, illuminating flickers of the stark intensity of his blue eyes.
Heat rose to my cheeks and a gradual tingle diffused across my skin. If I could have, I would have turned away, but I was trapped, locked in whatever was happening deep in the recesses of Christian’s mind.
It was smothering, surged out in waves, a tide that seemed to break against us both.
I squirmed in my seat, and Christian wet his lips, the lump in his throat bobbing as he swallowed.
“Are you missing your mom today?”
His question jarred me from the turmoil tumbling through my mind, reminding me that, no matter what, Christian was my best friend. He cared about me.
“Yeah.” Although really, half the day had been spent worrying that I’d made a mistake when I gave in to him yesterday. Of course, the other half had been watching the clock because I couldn’t wait to see him again.
I cleared the surprise from my throat. “I talked to my mom earlier. My older sister, Sarah, and her husband are going over to my mom’s, and of course my little sister is there. I didn’t get to tell you . . . Sarah is having a baby. I get to be an aunt.”
With the thought, a big smile pulled up at one corner of my mouth. I felt bad that I hadn’t taken enough time to think of my sister, how amazing her news was, that she was bringing a child into this world.
I couldn’t wait to see that baby’s precious face.
Christian’s face murmured a smile. “Yeah? That’s awesome, Elizabeth. I bet you wish you were there right now.”
My shoulders rose in an uncertain shrug. Did I? I knew I should. But right then, I felt like this was exactly where I was supposed to be.
One side of his mouth quivered. “Does it make me selfish that what I’m giving thanks for today is you being here with me?” He shifted and fidgeted with a button on his coat. “I don’t know where I’d be right now if it hadn’t been you in that café at the beginning of the year.”
“Christian.” Unrecognizable questions wove into my tone, so much contained in just his name.
My pulse spiked when Christian slid his hand slowly across the seat, the movement calculated. His chin tipped to the side and he flipped his hand so his palm was up. This time, he didn’t just take my hand or guide me into what he wanted.
He waited.
It was an invitation, one subject to a decision from me.
My eyes flicked from his hand to his face. I wavered, a gush of air suffusing into the cab as I deliberated.
I wanted to ask him, what does this mean?
I wanted reassurance. For him to ease the ache that had bound itself to the beat of my heart, for him to say he wanted me in the same way I wanted him, and that I wasn’t making the biggest mistake of my young life.
Instead, I wove my fingers through his.
As if he found as much relief in the contact as I did, a sigh fluttered from Christian’s mouth, and he squeezed my hand.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” he said again, shaking me up more.
The cab came to a stop, bringing an end to whatever Christian and I had just shared.
Even if that was it, if we shared nothing more, I’d cherish it, because I would swear, for a few seconds, Christian knew he felt more, even if he didn’t know how to admit it.
Venting a sound of frustration, Christian wrenched a hand through his hair when the valet opened my door. He seemed as opposed to leaving the safety of the cab as I was.
“Looks like we’re here,” he said, stating the obvious as he pulled his hand from mine.
Inclining his head for me to go on, I accepted the help of the doorman and stood from the cab. For a moment, I was alone, fidgeting as a new dread came to settle in the pit of my stomach.
My nerves rocketed as I absorbed my surroundings. Christian was right. The last people I wanted to spend Thanksgiving with were his parents, and the last place I wanted to spend it was somewhere like this. No question the building was beautiful, but pretention poured from its walls, an excessive display of glass and marble and brass.
What the hell was I doing here? I normally wasn’t one of those girls who felt ill at ease in their own skin. I liked who I was. But here, I had no place.
Christian sidled up to me. Like it belonged there, his hand went straight to the small of my back. “Let’s get you out of the cold,” he encouraged, turning us up the runner.
The attendant opened the door and stood aside with a clipped nod of his head.
I lifted my gaze to Christian to find a slight grimace when he turned his chin down to me, an apology, as if he knew how nervous this all made me. I didn’t even know what we were anymore, and now I had to face his parents with all those dizzying questions mucking up my mind.
We checked our coats, and Christian led us to the podium where the maître de stood. “Reservation for Richard Davison.”
The man scanned his book. “The rest of your party has already arrived. Right this way.”
Subdued conversations created a dull hum in the overly elegant space. Waiters in tuxes balanced silver trays, flitting silently around the room. Light clatters of silverware seemed the most distinct sound.
I tensed amidst it all.
No.
Definitely not a place I wanted to spend Thanksgiving. It wasn’t as if I’d never been to a nice restaurant before, but this place was over the top.
Christian leaned in close to my shoulder and mumbled, “I told you this would be miserable.”
I faked a smile. “It’s fine. It’ll be great.”
He laughed under his breath. “You’re the worst liar I’ve ever met.”
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