But I hope he’s been looking for me.
I grab my overnight bag, shove open the door and vault onto the curb. I set down my bag, and the sound seems to jolt him.
His smile is electric and instant. It’s all the colors, all the songs, all the stories. It’s every happy ending I’ve ever imagined.
Or so I hope.
I run to him, even though he’s only twenty feet away. When I reach him, I throw my arms around his neck, and smother him in needy, determined kisses from the bottom of my soul. Kisses that say I love you, I want you, I choose us.
His lips lock with mine, and he kisses me back like I’m all his answers too.
It’s been less than twenty-four hours, but we reconnect as if it’s been long, lonely months of writing poignant letters, staring out rain-spattered windows, gazing at the never-ending ticking of a clock.
The ache I felt without him simply vanishes as we kiss on the streets of London.
We kiss as if words are unnecessary, but that’s not true. You should always tell the one you love that you love them.
After some time, we break away. He holds my face, dusts a kiss to my eyelid, then pulls back, a wry grin on his face. “And how was your trip to New York?”
I laugh, big and joyful, from the center of my very being. “Incredibly illuminating.”
“Funny, my day was too. I went to Paris and spent some time with the art.”
I practically bounce. I’m dying to know about his lightbulb. “Tell me what you did.”
He takes a small step back, his gaze steady as it holds mine. That cheeky grin vanishes. His brown eyes turn vulnerable. “I don’t want to be presumptuous, but if you get the job in New York, I’d do long distance, or I’ll go with you to New York. If you asked me to. Whatever you want. Wherever you are.”
I freeze.
The enormity of his pronouncement sweeps over me, and it takes me several long seconds to register exactly what he’s saying. And finally, when it hits me, the monumentality slams into me like a beautiful wave. How on earth did I become so lucky to find him?
My heart climbs into my throat. I curl my hands around his hips, holding him tight. “Shut up. Shut up, shut up, shut up,” I mutter, overcome.
Tears sting the back of my eyes. Tears of wonder and joy.
He laughs. “Really? I should shut up?”
“Oh my God. Heath. That’s incredible, and it means the world to me. But I won’t ask you to leave. You love it here. This is your home. And the thing is . . . I think I could love it here too.” I catch my breath, swallow down the tears. I’ve got to say this without falling to pieces because I’d do all the same for him. Wherever he is. “I didn’t have to interview because I already knew what I would say to an offer.”
His eyes darken for a moment, his brow furrowing. He’s trying to process exactly what went down.
“I turned it down. I’m staying here. I love you and I love my job here. This is what I want,” I say, and his face transforms into the most beautiful expression of wonder.
“Jo, what about the job in New York though? Are you sure?” He asks carefully.
I shrug happily. “The thing is, I love my job here. I didn’t think I would, but in this short time I fell in love with Highsmith, and the auction we did, and the chances I’ll have here. I love this opportunity here in London. And I want to fall in love with London, just like I’ve fallen in love with you. Would you keep showing me your London?”
His grin is even bigger and brighter than before, than it’s ever been. He tugs me against him, presses his forehead to mine, and whispers a yes.
When he pulls back, he swipes his thumb along my jaw. “You didn’t even do the interview?”
“I realized when I landed that it was never about the job. The job represented New York and my friends there. As soon as I saw them, everything clicked — they’re why I was even interested in The Met. But I’ll always have my friends. We’ll always stay in touch. And I missed London, and I missed you. But I had to go to New York to know that. To know there’d be no regrets.”
“And I had to know I’d go anywhere with you, if you’d want me to.”
I am overwhelmed by his offer, so I take him up on what I most want this second. “I want to go home with you now. That’s where I want to go.”
“Good. Let’s go. But I need to correct you on something.”
I lift my chin, eager. “What’s that?”