Lost to You - - (readera ebook reader TXT) 📗

element, a million miles from what I knew.

What I knew were girls who wanted the exact thing I wanted.

Ones who climbed in my bed without a second thought.

Our intentions were never dishonest, and that was where it always ended. I never pretended I would give them any more. And they never pretended they wanted anything more from me, either.

But right then, the only thing I knew was I really wanted to hug this girl.

I didn’t even know her, though it didn’t take a lot for me to realize I wanted to.

“Hey,” I said as I leaned in low to capture her gaze, sliding my palm across the table to rest next to her notebook. My fingers twitched, and I resisted the urge to take her hand that lay an inch away. “You’re not alone.”

I raised a brow, lightening my tone in hope of lightening her mood. “Just think of all the time you’re going to have to spend studying with me.”

Her head was still bowed when she laughed and looked up at me from under the hedge of hair that had fallen like a veil to the side of her face, though the sadness that had temporarily hazed her expression was gone.

She smiled, and it was as if I could see everything inside of her.

In that moment, I had this strange sense that I knew her better than I’d ever known anyone, even though I really didn’t know her at all.

Elizabeth was strong and driven, incredibly intelligent, but what was most apparent was she was genuinely kind.

She emitted a slight snort and raised her own brow. “I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not, Christian.”

It was all tease and truth, playful words loaded with innuendo that confirmed she’d already made assumptions about me.

“How about you?” she asked. “You’re from here?”

“Nah, I’m from Virginia.”

“Virginia.” She seemed to ponder it as if it were some foreign, exotic place. “So what brought you to New York?”

I laughed low, but it lacked any humor. “I’ve known I would be going to Columbia since I was a little boy.”

There was never any choice. Anything less and all my father’s careful grooming, priming me for the future he’d picked out for me, would have all been in vain.

Frowning, she reached out to wrap her slender fingers around her coffee mug and sipped at it as she waited for me to continue.

I answered her as simply as I could. “My dad went here.”

“Ah.” She nodded as if she understood what I meant, as if she recognized she’d hit a nerve. She looked like she was tempted to ask me more.

I quickly changed the subject. My parents were the last thing I wanted to talk about. “So what about you? Why New York?”

She got that wistful smile again, her eyes soft and her words softer. “It’s kind of embarrassing, but have you ever had a place that just became a fairy tale to you?”

I blinked, not really understanding, but wishing I could. I offered a little shrug. “No. Not really.”

Definitely not.

She reddened again, dipping her chin in the way she did every time she seemed to get self-conscious. “New York has always been like that for me, from the time I was a little girl. I always thought it had to be the most amazing place in the world. Then when I decided I wanted to be an attorney, I knew it had to be Columbia.”

“Wait . . . what? You’re pre-law?”

She nodded.

Could she be any more perfect for me?

And where the hell did that thought come from?

“Me too,” I said.

She sat up, both of us more excited than we probably needed to be. “Really?”

“Yeah . . . you know, my dad’s headed a firm for years. Real estate. I’m going to take over for him when he retires.”

“Oh God . . . that’s amazing.” She was grinning, maybe happy for me. Maybe happy to find out we had more in common than we’d initially thought.

“What are you going into?” I asked.

She was still smiling, her body vibrating in her seat. “I’m not sure yet. Some sort of family law . . . I want to work for the state or a non-profit.” Passion poured from her mouth, her heavy exhale thick with emotion. She hugged herself, as if she were imagining herself there, what her future would be like. “Something where I can help kids.” Her face glowed. “An advocate of some kind. I don’t know.”

She shrugged, but clearly not because she didn’t care. It didn’t have to be perfect. It just had to be right.

I was floored.

I’d never met anyone like her.

I knew what those jobs paid. Obviously, Elizabeth did too. She was after the worst position any attorney could ever have, what my father called scrounge work.

For years, he pounded it into my psyche that it would be required before I made it to the top. He wouldn’t even consider allowing me into his firm until I’d spent at least two years scrubbing. I expected it to be the two worst years of my life.

And it appeared to be Elizabeth’s ultimate goal.

For my dad, it wasn’t about giving back. It was about paying dues. He wanted to see me scrape the bottom of the barrel so I’d understand what he was giving me when he ultimately handed me a job on a silver platter.

“What?” she asked when she noticed my expression. Confusion dimmed the light that had glimmered from her face.

I stared at her for too long, my mouth dry and my palms wet. How badly I wanted to climb inside her, to really understand her, to know what it’d feel like not to be driven by money and greed.

But the last thing I wanted was her to see inside of me.

I shook my head. “Nothing. That’s just . . . really cool, Elizabeth.”

“Thanks, Christian.” A humble smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. She flipped the textbook shut and shoved the syllabus into a folder. “I need to get going. Are we good to meet here on Monday, then? Same time?” she asked.

Monday was five days from now. Something inside me protested. I didn’t want to wait that long to see her again.

“What are you doing Friday night?”

“Me? Studying.” She emitted a low laugh and shook her head as if anticipating what I would say next.

“How about you go out to dinner with me instead?” I asked her anyway. I smiled that smile again.

“That’s not going to happen.” Red colored her cheeks, but she seemed to be fighting a smile. She gathered a few loose papers and tapped the bottom edge of the pile on the table to straighten them.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not the kind of girl you’re looking for.”

“And how do you know what kind of girl I’m looking for?”

She sat back in her chair, leveling her gaze on me.

I fidgeted under it.

All traces of that shyness were gone and set in its place was a steely determination as she lifted her chin high. “Okay then, Christian, answer me something.”

I tilted my head. I was so going to regret agreeing to this, but I couldn’t help but bite. “All right.”

A smile danced in her brown eyes. “How long have you been in New York?”

I let out the breath I was holding. Okay, that was easy. Relieved, I inched a little closer. “My parents had me moved up here at the beginning of the summer. They said they wanted me to have a chance to get used to my surroundings. I figure they just wanted me out of their hair.”

She nodded subtly, her brow cinched together as if she’d been struck with some unknown suspicion.

“Are you happy here?” whispered from her mouth as if she were asking me to reveal my darkest secret.

I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden intensity of her voice. “Anywhere is better than spending another minute in my parents’ house.” I answered her honestly because I found I didn’t know how to lie to the girl sitting across from me.

For a second, her expression softened, and she just nodded as she held my gaze. I was pretty sure I’d never felt more exposed than I did in that single moment.

She cleared her throat and looked away, breaking the connection. When she looked back up, everything had shifted, the same challenge glinting in her eyes. “And how many girls have you slept with since you got here?”

Oh shit. Of course, she had to ask the one question I didn’t want to answer, voicing the judgment she’d already cast.

“Uh . . . um . . .” I stumbled, then bit down on my bottom lip, shaking my head as I released a self-conscious laugh.

She crossed her arms over her chest, the smile at the edge of her mouth lifting. “What? You can’t count that high, or you don’t want to tell me?”

Her tone was light, an easy mirth at my expense.

But I could see it, set there in the perfect lines of her