did his heart.
She took a tentative step forward and blinked the wary question in her eyes away, skillfully rendering her expression blank. "How was your trip? Did the shoot go well?"
Ten days and she asked about his travels. Hope withered and died.
He straightened in his chair. "I scrapped the shoot. Got nothing useful."
"Why?"
Because I couldn't stop thinking about you. "Wasn't feeling it."
She made her way around the desk and leaned against it to stand in front of him. "I wanted to talk to you about a few things."
His hands itched to touch, to stop the longing. Somehow, he resisted. "I've got a lot to catch up on before the show tonight."
Her mouth trembled open. Hurt flashed in her eyes. "It's important."
Closing his eyes to the soft, tormented tone of her voice, he drew in air. "Then I'll try to be home early enough before we have to leave."
She bowed her head. Nodded. "Remember that day you took me out on the island?"
As if he could forget. "What about it?"
"We stopped here to pick up the boat keys and I got an idea." She looked into his eyes, and he swore it took her a lot of effort to do so. Her gaze, for the first time in memory, was wide open. Haunting and troubled. Seeking. "I pictured you swiping the items off your desk, like you made me do to mine, and taking me right here."
Her words belied her expression. She was resorting to sex instead of whatever conclusion she'd reached in his absence. She may have missed him, but she was diverting. As usual.
When he said nothing, she glanced over his shoulder. "How did you know?" Her soft voice hit him right in the chest. Twisted. "How did you know you were in love with me?"
Raven had this uncanny way of dissecting information. If she didn't have all the facts, she didn't invest. If she was asking, then something had sparked the need to know. His heart flipped and exposed its underbelly. "It's just something I know. I can't explain it."
Slowly, her gaze slid to his. "Try."
His hands fisted the chair arms. "I look at you and my heart pounds, when for years, I don't think it beat at all. You fill the cracks and crevices, take away the emptiness. When I think about the future, five years, twenty-five years down the road, you're there. And when you're not by my side, the loss is unimaginable."
Shit. He swallowed and looked away. He had no idea where that had come from, but there it was. His truth.
"Noah--"
He shook his head. And because she was trying in her own messed up way, he rose and placed his hands on her hips. Leaning in, he kissed her forehead. "We do need to talk. You're right. Let me get a few things out of the way and then I'll be home."
Her eyebrows pinched together. She stared at him for long moments, wavering on a cliff somewhere he didn't think he'd reach, and then she flicked her gaze away. Finally, she nodded and walked to the door.
"I missed you," she said over her shoulder before she was gone.
He dropped to his chair. "Me, too, baby."
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he dove into work to keep his mind off. He returned some calls, dicked with the advertizing budget, and scheduled a maintenance crew to come out to inspect the equipment before delegating the rest to Veronica. By the time he sat back in his chair, he had an hour before needing to be at Elements for Hoan's exhibit.
Which left no time for the talk with Raven. Not that he knew what in the hell to say.
The condo was quiet when he returned. Too quiet. He strode into the bedroom and found his suit laid out on the bed, a note set on top.
You told me not to give up. I haven't, so don't you dare. I'll see you soon. I'll be the one wearing red. Raven, xoxo
Unsure what to make of the note, regret settled like stone in his gut. He should've carved out more time to get here before the show. Now he'd be forced to make nice until he could have her alone again. He'd swear on his life she'd meant this as an olive branch.
Hope resuscitated and held on for dear life.
He showered, shaved, and dressed to arrive at Elements in the knick of time. Hintz opened the door to let him out of the backseat, and Noah caught McCannon's unmarked