When You Come Back to Me (Lost Boys #2) - Emma Scott Page 0,126
me like a heavy coat.
“I don’t know what to do,” River said after a few moments, his voice heavy with sleep. “I want to help you, but I don’t know how.”
“Neither do I.”
“But I can tell you that if I didn’t have a car to restore, I’d be wrecked too. It helps to have something to work toward. Something real that’s not damn thinking.”
I inhaled. “An agent approached me a couple weeks ago. The night I sent you my journals, actually. He wants me to write a book.”
River lifted his head. “Holden… Shit, that’s amazing. Do that.”
“I can’t write a book.”
“You’ve already written a hundred books,” he said with a grin. “What’s one more?”
“Stop it,” I said. “If you smile like that at me one more time, I’m going to have to sleep on the floor. I won’t be able to keep from kissing you.”
“I changed my mind,” River said, his voice gruff. “I’ll kiss you goodnight.”
He pushed himself up on his elbows. My heart stopped as he lowered his mouth to mine and started again at the first touch of his lips. A soft groan rumbled from his chest as I opened for him and his tongue slid inside. He kissed me deeply, thoroughly, and then I took my turn, tasting every corner of his mouth, sucked at his tongue, bit at his lips. No one tasted like River—clean and pure and good. Kissing him was more potently intimate than anything I’d done with anyone else over the last year, erasing them all. Leaving me a clean slate. No one had mattered since River and no one ever would.
Too soon, the kiss was over, and River lowered his head heavily to his pillow, while I now had to contend with a hard-on tenting my underwear.
I gestured at it with a frown. “Well, I hope you’re proud of yourself.”
He chuckled. “You’re not alone. I’m as hard as a rock down here.”
“There’s a remedy for that. More than one, actually.”
“Go to sleep, Holden,” he said, his eyes already falling shut. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” I said, but as tired as I was, sleep wouldn’t come.
Tell him. Tell him you love him with your own voice.
But River’s breathing was already deep and even. His face relaxed. Content.
I’ll tell him in the morning, I thought. In broad daylight. And maybe it’ll be okay. Maybe Alaska will stay away and we can be happy…
I fell asleep with a different life dancing in my thoughts, but when I woke up, that broad daylight showed me an empty bed. River’s things were gone, and a note sat propped on the small desk.
Holden,
I got a text from my sister. Dad’s had an accident. Not bad, just a fender-bender, but Amelia’s freaking out. I’m going back. I think maybe it’s better I go anyway. If I stay, my willpower will break down and I won’t get out of that bed with you.
And that’s not why I came here. I came to tell you that even thousands of miles away, I’m still here for you. I can’t make you believe me when I say that I love you, but I do. I think you love me too, and when you come back to me, I’ll be waiting.
Love,
River
The note fell from my hand. Paris outside the window blurred. A feeling expanded in my chest—pain that he was gone already but something good, too. Bigger. Like a dawn breaking after the darkest night. Moving stiffly but quickly, I dressed and went out. River had already paid the hotel bill. I called a cab and took it back to the Bristol.
The remnants of a small gathering—empty glasses, a room service cart, and overflowing ashtrays—littered the suite. All signs that Alexandre brought the party here in order to charge everything to my room. Jean-Baptiste was still asleep in my bed, his skin like brown velvet draped over the white satin sheets.
I gently woke him and explained that our brief affair had come to an end. He took it well—we’d never been anything to each other but decent conversation and a good lay. When he was gone, I fished around in the closet, searching through pockets until I found Elliot Lash’s card.
I hit call, my damn heart in my throat, beating for the first time with hope instead of fear.
“Elliot Lash speaking,” he answered.
“Elliot, it’s Holden Parish.” I inhaled. Exhaled. “Let’s write a book.”
Chapter Thirty
Two years later…
“Hello?” I said, pushing open the door to Dad’s house. “I have pizza.”