The Wrong Gentleman

My cheeks heated. He was so freaking hot. How had I gotten so lucky?

I beamed and waved my test results in the air.

“Did you pass?” he shouted from across the street, checking for a gap in traffic. Eventually he gave up and despite the blare of horns, pushed through the slow-moving cars and cyclists weaving in and out of the vehicles.

“There’s no pressure. You can always take it again,” he said as he reached me. “See this as a dry run.”

“But I don’t need to take it again. I passed,” I said.

He searched my face, then tossed both cups of coffee into the nearby trashcan and traced my cheekbones with his fingertips. “I knew it,” he said before kissing me.

My knees buckled and I pulled at his shirt, trying to keep upright.

When he finally pulled back, he slipped his hand around my waist and guided me in the direction of the restaurant where we were meeting Hayden and Avery for lunch.

“So this means you can get into any university?” he asked.

I stared at the piece of paper that I hadn’t dared put back into my bag in case when I took it out again, the score had changed. “I wasn’t expecting to get this kind of result.”

“You always underestimate yourself. You should know better by now.”

“I’m getting there,” I said. “Slowly.” Being with a man who believed in me so completely was helping.

“Next stop law. In the US or here?” he asked, pulling me toward him and out of the way as a buggy plowed toward us.

“I guess the US makes sense.”

Landon stayed silent.

“What do you think?” I asked.

“Oh, you finally want to talk about this?” He grinned and placed a kiss on the top of my forehead.

Every time he’d tried to bring up the topic, I’d shut him down. I didn’t want to get ahead of myself. I’d been focused on passing the exam. If I couldn’t do that, I wouldn’t need to choose a place to study.

I prodded him in the stomach. “Yes, I want to talk about this now that I have this.” I waved the paper at him.

“I want you to be happy,” he said.

I sighed. “That’s a cop-out. Tell me what you think.”

“I want to hear your thoughts first. This is a big deal for you. A pivotal moment. It should be your decision.”

“And then you’ll tell me what you think? Even if I blurt out a lot of incoherent thoughts that I haven’t let myself analyze in any detail?”

He chuckled. “I promise.”

I sucked in a breath. “I guess the US makes sense. I know the system and the schools better. But then, nowhere in the US feels like home. Even though I’ve spent a lot of time in Florida, that was just because of yachting. And Ohio?” I shook my head. “I’m not sure that ever felt like home.”

“Does anywhere feel like home?” he asked.

I wanted to say that being with Landon felt like home. When he held me, I felt warm, safe, and protected. Wasn’t that what home was supposed to feel like? “I’m not sure,” I replied.

“What about London?” he asked.

“London is complicated.” For the last three months, I’d been blissfully happy. Landon had insisted I stay in his apartment, and I’d gotten a job in a little café in Covent Garden while I studied. Landon had started his new role and loved it, and our time together consisted of grinning at each other like lunatics—as Avery liked to tell me—cooking, Landon showing me his favorite parts of the city, and sex. Lots of sex.

It had been three months of pure perfection.