Indigo Nights (Nights #3)(38)

I slipped off my stool. “Hey.” I leaned forward and kissed her cheek.

“Hey.” She stared at my shoulder.

She took a seat next to me, her stool facing into the bar as mine pointed toward her.

“Can I get a virgin mojito?” I asked the waiter.

I grabbed her hand and ran my thumb over her knuckles. “I’m really sorry. I feel like a jerk.”

She continued to look at my shoulder. “That’s because you were a jerk.”

“I should have trusted you. I’m not good with that—trusting people. Trusting women.”

Finally, she glanced at me. “I struggle sometimes, too. But you can’t ask me to trust you and then not do the same.”

She was a setting out the first rule of our relationship. It was an acknowledgment that this was no longer a one-night stand. We had shifted into a different space. We’d been inching toward something with the phone calls and the texts, but my reaction to seeing her with her brother and her need for my trust—that took us to the next stage.

She mattered to me.

“I know. It won’t happen again.” For so long I hadn’t concerned myself with trusting a woman, or having a woman trust me. I was rusty when it came to relationships, but I needed to remember quickly if I didn’t want to lose Beth.

I linked my fingers through hers and squeezed her hand. I sighed in relief when she returned the gesture.

“How come you didn’t tell me you were in London?”

It was a good question and I needed to be truthful with her, even if it was embarrassing. She’d asked me to trust her. She deserved that.

“I flew in overnight on Wednesday and was in meetings all day Thursday. Meetings I could have done by conference call in Chicago. I wanted to see you, and thought I’d surprise you at the airport.” It felt good to be honest with her.

She spun her stool to face me and cocked her head. “Are you saying you flew to London just to surprise me at the airport?”

I nodded. “I told you I was a douche. I’m really sorry for jumping to conclusions.”

She slid off her stool and stepped toward me. “You’re a peach,” she whispered as she leaned forward and kissed my cheek.

I chuckled. “I’ll take that.”

“We’re going to need two chocolate mousse parfaits for room 1204, please,” she called to the bartender.

“Make me a promise,” she said as we headed toward the elevators, holding hands like long-term lovers.

“Anything.” I meant it.

“Whatever this is and however long it lasts, let’s agree that there will be no secrets or lies. I want to have fun with you. I don’t want to spend time second-guessing you.” She crinkled her brow, willing me to agree.

“My sweet, that’s such an easy promise to make. No secrets or lies for however long this lasts.” I kissed her on the forehead.

“I believe you and promise the same. I hope you believe me, too.”

“I do. I really do.” I shouldn’t compare her to Alicia, or cast Beth with the same lack of compassion or morality. She was fresh and exciting, soft and authentic. She was nothing like Alicia.

The ache I’d had all day for her ebbed away and in its place a lightness settled.

I wanted to give more, wanted more in return. “But, I have a request.” Her lips parted as she looked at me, waiting for me to say what was on my mind. “Whatever it is we’re doing, I want to be only doing it with you exclusively.”

Her pouty lips widened into a smile. “I can do that.”

I bent forward and kissed the beauty spot on her cheekbone. “I’m glad.”

We entered her room, walking straight through the living area to the bedroom.

“Talk to me about the TV thing.” As soon as the words had left my mouth, I realized that I hadn’t told her that I owned it. Was that technically a secret? A lie? Did she need to know? I just couldn’t tell her before I told Raf; it felt disloyal.

She scooted onto the bed. “I signed.”

“You signed?” I crawled over her, forcing her to her back.

“I did. Six shows.”

I dropped my lips to her collarbone. She smelled like cinnamon. I placed small kisses across her throat.

“Does that mean you’ll be back in Chicago for six weeks?” I pulled back to look at her.

She screwed up her lips. “No. They’ve agreed that they’ll film them all so I just have to come over once.”

“You don’t like Chicago?” I moved her to her side, stroking my thumb between her tits and over her stomach.

She thought about it. “Yeah. It’s where I grew up and where I remember my mom and still see my dad.” She trailed her hands up my back. “Memories of her are one of the things that makes Chicago great, and one of the things that makes Chicago tough.” I nodded, not wanting to interrupt her. I wanted to hear more, know more about her. “And there was other heartbreak here, too. In London, I feel like a new, adult Beth. She’s really the only person I want to be now.”

“She’s a very special woman.” London wasn’t so far away, was it?

She cupped my face in her hand; I closed my eyes at her touch.

Facing the possibility of cutting her out of my life had made me realize what I could lose—and not just Beth, but something bigger. She represented a different possibility for me. A different kind of life, one where I shared it with someone.