Don't Speak (A Modern Fairytale, #5)(53)

Suffice it to say, it hadn’t gone well at all. With a mix of anger and frustration, she’d leaped off his lap and stared down at him, hands on her hips, lecturing him about how staying overnight wasn’t an option and how could he—knowing her precarious situation—ask it of her? He’d tried to calm her down before she left, and they’d kissed and hugged good night, but he could tell she was still upset.

And now? As he zoomed over to the Pamlico House at six o’clock, he wondered if he’d pushed her too hard last night, and his heart clutched with misgivings. He felt like he’d fucking die if she was still mad and wouldn’t come over at all tonight, when it was their last, best chance to be alone before he had to go back to school.

Everything was winding down around him—Hillary had already gone back to school in Asheville. Pete, who was expected for three weeks of football camp before classes, had left for Chapel Hill this morning, giving Vanessa a ride back to Raleigh. She was chairing her sorority rush and would meet some of her sisters for preplanning at Wake Forest next week.

It had been an awkward couple of weeks dodging Van after the party at his parents’ house in July. He’d been beyond grateful when she left for a four-week tour of England and Scotland with her aunt and uncle. When he’d seen her last Saturday afternoon for an end-of-season BBQ at Utopia Manor, she didn’t seem nearly as pushy as she’d been before leaving, and even mentioned some guy in England whom she was “seeing.” Whether or not this was true, Erik breathed a sigh of relief. His mother still had some vague idea that he and Van were together, but if Van had moved on to this new guy, at least he could stop feeling bad about leading her on for a spell.

Erik’s biggest problem was time. He had a week at most before he had to leave the Banks. He could maybe push his departure to next Thursday, but his parents would insist on seeing him in Raleigh for a weekend before he left for Duke.

There was no time left.

No fucking time.

And it was killing him to leave Laire behind without a plan in place to pick up where they were leaving off.

They needed to talk. They needed to figure out how to keep this good thing going during the one hundred days they’d be apart between now and Thanksgiving. And Erik felt an urgency to figure it out tonight, even if he had to fight her for the time.

Pulling into a parking spot by the inn, he strode inside, a man on a mission.

But the moment he saw her, he knew something was up. As he sat down in the bar, two hours earlier than usual, she came right over to him, something she’d never done before.

“We need to talk,” she whispered near his ear.

He sucked in a tight breath as his heart sank. Those four words were possibly the most dreaded combination in the English language.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Why did you push her so hard yesterday?

He swallowed, grinding his jaw once. “Okay.”

“Follow me,” she said, walking briskly from the bar to the reception area. Without looking back or stopping, she continued up the stairs, to the second floor, and then up more stairs, to the third. At the third floor, she opened a door that led to a steep, dark staircase and she continued up with him following behind. At the top, she opened another door, and Erik quickly realized that it led directly outside.

Erik had never been upstairs at the Pamlico House, but suddenly he found himself alone with Laire on a widow’s walk four stories high and almost two hundred years old.

With new planking and enough room for four lounge chairs, it was a beautiful spot for guests to sun themselves, except he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was about to break up with him, so he couldn’t possibly enjoy it. He stopped just inside the door and waited to hear what she had to say, his insides turning with a fear that made him feel nauseous.

When she turned around, her face was split with a smile that surprised him, and he relaxed a little, stepping forward.

“I can come!” she said, her eyes alive with excitement. “Tonight. I can stay with you.”

He’d been holding his breath, but now he exhaled in a loud whoosh, reaching for her and pulling her roughly into his arms.

“Fuck, Laire,” he muttered into her hair. “I thought you brought me up here to break it off.”

“To break things off with you?” she asked in a rush.

“I fuckin’ pressured you last night when I promised I never would.”

“You didn’t really. You just asked. I shouldn’t have gotten mad. I just . . . I wanted to stay over, but I couldn’t figure out how!”

His heart was finally returning to normal as he leaned away and looked down at her face. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she answered, leaning up on tiptoe to kiss him.

And he wanted to kiss her—and goddamnit, he planned to kiss her all night long—but right now he needed to understand. “How? How did you manage it?”

“My daddy’s going crabbing down by Harkers Island tonight. Just told me yesterday. Won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon.”

He cupped her face, feeling a burst of laughter bubble up from deep inside. “Just like that?”

She nodded, grinning up at him. “Just like that.”

He bent to kiss her softly. “All night.”

“All night,” she murmured against his lips. “But . . . Erik . . .”