The Relationship Pact(24)

She has beautiful eyes.

“I can pick you up tonight around six thirty. I drove here from school, so I have my car.”

“Great. I’ll text you my address.”

A smile ghosts her lips as she gets to her feet. I stand, too.

My heartbeat thumps away as I watch her. She takes her purse in her hand and smooths her shirt down with the other.

I want to follow the movement and take in the beauty of her body, but I can’t look away from her face.

I wish I could ask her to stand still, to never leave that spot just so I could stay right here and feel this … balance. This calm before what I’m afraid might be a storm because there’s always a storm brewing. It’s a fact of life.

“I’ll see you tonight,” she says.

“Six thirty.”

She grins. “I’ll grab a bottle of wine. Don’t worry about that.”

“I wasn’t.” I hadn’t even thought about bringing something to dinner.

“I saw the panic in your eyes when I mentioned it before. But don’t worry—I have many, many extra bottles at home that will work.”

“Well, if you insist …”

She laughs as she turns on her heel and walks away.

I stand beside the table and watch her, wondering what just happened here. She’s a chance encounter. Temporary. The perfect solution to an imperfect situation.

Yet … there was a vibe between us. Our energies fell in-sync so easily that being around her feels like being around one of my guy friend. It’s easy. It’s fun.

Except that I wouldn’t mind fucking her.

I shake my head. You’re here for a few days, Hudson. Then Savannah is in your rearview, like so many people and places before Larissa.

So many people.

I heave a breath and find a smile spreading across my cheeks.

Maybe so, but I’ll get this girl for two nights. And that’s better than what I usually get—nothing.





Eight





Larissa





I turn side-to-side and check out my reflection.

The jeans from Halcyon fit me pretty well despite being a new-to-me brand, and the powder-blue top makes me look like I have more cleavage than I do. It looks decent and definitely casual, and Hollis said the dinner tonight was casual.

Then why does casual feel so wrong?

“And why am I trusting a guy’s take on the dress code?” I groan, scrunching my face up in frustration.

I turn around and take in the mess on my bed. Nearly every top I own that could remotely be labeled as casual lays in a heap.

I go back into my closet and thumb through the few remaining items. My eyes end up falling on a turquoise wrap dress that I borrowed from Bellamy a few months ago. I take the hanger off the rod and carry the dress into my bedroom.

With the late afternoon sunlight creating a spotlight on me, I hold the dress up to my body. I turn from one side to the other.

“I mean, it's kind of casual,” I say, still unsure. “But is it too much for … I don’t even know where we’re going.”

I blow out a breath and feel my spirits sink.

“Just pick something, Larissa,” I mutter as I hang the dress on the back of my closet door.

I wander around my room and try to remind myself of who I am. I am not a girl who gets worked up about what she wears or puts this much effort into getting ready. Ever.

I wonder vaguely if this is what other girls feel like. Does Bellamy get this obsessed about getting dressed every morning?

Probably. And it’s probably why she looks phenomenal in everything she wears.

Ugh.

I just don’t have it in me to care this much.

I walk over to my desk and take a seat. I open my laptop and check my email. Coupons for ice cream, newsletters from romance authors, and shipping updates fill my inbox. But there’s one message buried in the middle of the list that stands out. I click on it.

The email from my academic advisor at school is short and sweet. The last few classes I need to take to finalize my bachelor’s degree are written in black and white. I needed an urban design course but had failed to take the prerequisite math class. My new advisor promised me he would work it out, and after some shifting around and an online course, I’m thrilled to see it finally confirmed on my schedule.

A rush of relief mixed with excitement flows freely through me. I sit back in my leather office chair and revel in the feeling of things going according to plan.

Landscape architecture was a no-brainer for me. It’s creative and artistic and gives me access to sunshine and fresh air—two things I need to feel alive. It was the only career option that would allow me to create something beautiful or something practical—or something practically beautiful—and feed my soul.

I let myself imagine what life might be like in just a few months. While everyone seems to think I’ll go into residential landscape design and work with my family’s friends and acquaintances, that’s not at all what I want to do.

My dreams are much bigger than designing golf courses and sculpted lawns. I want to create actual spaces and transform specific areas that make people feel at home.

I want to do something more than inspire one family. I want to do something bigger, something bigger than me.

Designing gardens for convalescent centers so people who can’t go home can still sit outside and feel safe and relaxed is on my bucket list. I hope to create green areas in the middle of the city for commuters to find a bit of calm in their day. I would die over the ability to tuck in a little garden somewhere with a flow of energy that others can flock to when they need a shot of happiness or hope. My goal is to use my skills and passions to make other people’s lives better—to extend the gifts given to me.