The Girlfriend (The Boss 2)

“It’s going to be difficult no matter what.” I dabbed my eyes with the ends of my sleeves. “I mean, once this is all over, we’re kind of over, too, aren’t we?”

He slipped from the bench and walked to the island, buying himself time to respond. Grabbing a sommelier corkscrew and the bottle of white from the cooler, he considered as he opened it. “I don’t want us to be.”

I laughed tearfully in relief, but then he continued, “I’m not certain how well a long-distance relationship will work for us, in the state we’re in. If this had all happened two weeks ago, I would have gone ahead without hesitation. But I would be lying if I said I haven’t been doubting us.”

“I kind of got the hint when you broke up with me.”

He poured himself a glass and came back to the table, but he didn’t sit down. “I didn’t break up with you. I wanted you to examine your priorities and really think about what you were giving up.” He paused, his gorgeous green eyes searching my face. “I know I went about it badly, but I didn’t want to lose you or push you away. I was worried that in a year, you’d still be looking for a job, hating yourself for turning this one down, and hating me for being the reason you did. Despite what we feel for each other and how well we were getting on, our relationship is still very new.”

There was a reconciliation floating between us, fragile as a soap bubble. I wanted it. I thought he might, as well. But we both seemed too afraid to reach out for it. We didn’t want the bubble to burst.

I got up from the table and stood beside him, and he set his glass down. I caught his hands and held them between us, looking down at them as I spoke. I didn’t want to search his face for something that might not be there. “Things moved a lot faster than we were expecting. A lot faster than I wanted them to. But maybe we’re just making up for the six years we were supposed to be together.”

He smiled down at our joined hands. When he looked up, I didn’t see any trace of the anxiety that had been a flashing neon sign over his head since I’d arrived. “I think you could be right.”

“I want to be with you. I thought about accepting Gabriella’s offer, and how empty everything in my life would feel without you...” And now he was going to England. And I really would be without him.

His laugh was grim. “This will be torture, you know. Being across the Atlantic, unable to see you.”

I turned my head slightly to give him a little side-eye. “So... are we back together? Is that what you’re saying?”

“I maintain that we were never actually apart, but yes. I love you. I hate that I fractured your trust in me.” He let go of my hands to wrap his arms around me, and for the first time all night, I took a breath that didn’t feel like razor blades were slicing up the insides of my lungs.

“Let’s just forget all of this, okay? We have a limited amount of time together, and I want to make the most of it.” My stomach churned, both at the thought of him heading to England, and the specter of a much more permanent kind of leaving.

He lowered his head slowly, almost hesitating to kiss me, as though it were a step too far. But it wasn’t. I rose on my tiptoes to meet him halfway, and when I swayed on my feet, his arm around my back tightened, holding me up.

He’d felt the tension as much as I had, and he was just as eager to break it. We communicated just fine out loud, in my opinion, but there were some things we could only tell each other this way. A single kiss could say “I’m sorry,” and “I missed you,” much more powerfully than just uttering the words ever could.

“I need,” I gasped, breaking my mouth from his. How did I want to finish that sentence?

“Tell me, Sophie. Tell me what you need.”

“I need you, Sir.” I put all the weight on that one word. I needed him to take control of me, because for the past four days I’d felt so out of control, so disconnected. I needed our connection, like I needed air.

I knew what that word did to him, coming from my mouth. And I knew that he’d understand exactly why I wanted him as much as I did, because he wanted me, too. His hand tugged my hair, baring my throat to him. He bent his head and trailed his mouth up my neck. “Get out of those clothes, right now.”