by Brooks, Abby
“Yours,” she whispered. Tears pricked at her eyes and then overwhelmed her. They poured down her cheeks, spilling onto the pillowcase. “I’m so yours. So irrevocably yours. It hurts not to be with you every day.”
Harry stretched out and pulled her into his arms, spooning her. “Like I’m missing part of myself,” he whispered.
She nodded and sobbed, clutching at him. “Like I’m missing part of myself.”
She paused, so overcome, so aware of her true feelings and the need to share them, and so afraid to say them out loud for fear she’d wish she never had. But she couldn’t keep it in one second longer.
“I’m so in love with you, Harry. I know it doesn’t make sense, but I’m lost for you. My heart has been in Bliss since I left.”
There was a moment of utter, terrifying silence.
Fear froze Willow’s blood and she had to force herself to breathe.
A new set of tears pushed against her eyes.
“That’s funny,” Harry said at last. “Because my heart’s been here in New York. With you.” He shifted and helped her turn over so they faced one another. “I love you, Willow. I think I fell in love with you the second I saw you. And I love you more with each passing day.”
Chapter Thirty
Willow
January
“Guess what!” Willow had been anxiously waiting all day for her nightly video chat with Harry and she couldn’t wait to share her Official Best News Ever.
He put a finger to his chin and made a thinking face that was so cute she had to grab a screenshot of it. “Ummm…” He looked right at the camera so it felt like she was actually making eye contact with him. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me?”
He’d been saying stuff like that more often and it felt really, really good. Especially because she’d been thinking stuff like that about him, too. “No…” She smiled widely as he made a shocked face.
“But you are!”
“No, that’s you. You’re the one who’s the best thing that ever happened to me. And that’s a pretty big deal since you still hold that title even after what happened today.”
Understanding lit his eyes. “You were cast as Juliet!”
Willow nodded frantically. “I was! I really was!”
“Oh, my sweet angel, I knew you would. After I saw what you could do with something as boring as The Nutcracker…” Mischief quirked the corners of his mouth.
“I warned you not to go.”
“True. But then I wouldn’t have such a complete understanding of how good you actually are. I mean, I bet anyone can dance the role of Juliet and make the audience feel something. After all, she’ll have the music and the story to help her. But you. You made people feel something in a ballet as boring as The Nutcracker. That’s real power right there, Doll.”
“God, I miss you.”
And she did.
She felt the lack of him down to her bones.
An empty space where Harry was supposed to be. Even something as important as finally getting to perform her dream role somehow felt less.
Wasn’t achieving your dreams supposed to be the best thing that could ever happen to a person? Wasn’t reaching new landmarks and checking goals off your bucket list the whole point of life?
It just…didn’t feel that way.
Sitting at her kitchen table, chatting with Harry, that was the best part of her day. Better even than the high she got after a killer rehearsal. Better than the compliment she received from the director about her recent performance. And even better than seeing her name beside the role of Juliet on the cast list.
And tomorrow’s chat with Harry would be the next best part of her life. And the next conversation, and the next. She was quickly realizing that Harry had become the best part of her life.
Better than dancing.
Better than working for one of the best companies in the world while living in one of the best cities in the world.
Better than checking things off her bucket list.
What did that mean?
The answer was so simple and so complex all at the same time. It meant that Harry was the most important thing in her life. It meant that he was worth more to her than any amount of success in her career. She tried to imagine any number of possible outcomes to her life, being promoted to principal dancer, becoming a ballet mistress, or, going all the way to fantasy land, she imagined what it would be like to become the director of American City Ballet—a status akin to God in the dance world.
Nothing she imagined satisfied her the same way imagining falling asleep next to Harry every night did.
Nothing felt as right as Harry.
“Hey.” Harry knocked on his tablet screen and leaned close to the camera. “Where’d you go?”
“I’m right here.” Willow smiled at his adorableness.
“Sure, your body’s there, but your mind sure isn’t. I was so far off your radar we weren’t even in the same zip code.”
“But we aren’t in the same zip code,” Willow quipped before making a sad face. He had no idea he was so very much on her radar that she was contemplating a life without dance just to be with him.
“Sure, if you want to argue semantics. Or, you could tell me where your mind went just now so we can talk about it.”
Willow hesitated a fraction of second, not exactly sure how honest she wanted to be. “I miss you is all. Lots and lots. More than you know.”
Harry’s concern melted into a smile. “I love you, Willow Tamran. My sweet angel. And I miss you every moment I’m not at your side.” The honesty in his voice was so pure it hurt. “You’re still coming down this weekend? That’s still good? No snags in the plan?”
“No snags in the plan.” Willow stood and carried her tablet with her to rummage through the fridge. “Will you cook for me again when I’m there? I’m getting really tired of protein bars.”
“You bet your sweet ass I’ll cook for you again.”
Willow blushed from head to toe at the mention of her sweet ass, remembering where his finger went the last time they were together.
“Look at you blushing. You still don’t know what to do with the fact that you liked it so much, do you?”
Willow shuddered. “I don’t want to like it as much as I did. I feel…dirty.” She grabbed a container of Greek yogurt and checked the date.
“You are dirty. You're my dirty little angel and I absolutely love it.”
“I’m glad that you love it, but next time, would you warn me?”
“If I warn you, you’ll tell me no and you won’t get to come as hard as you did that weekend.” Harry smirked at her shocked expression. “Besides. I’ve told you before. When it comes to the bedroom, I’m in charge. I promise I won’t do anything to you that you don’t want me to, but one look at your face tells me you’d be totally fine if I was there right now with my finger up your—”
“Harry!” Willow widened her eyes at the camera. “That’s enough.” She softened her expression as she glanced around her room. “You’re embarrassing me.”
He sighed. “That’s one thing I want to work on. I don’t want anything between us. We already have to deal with the hundreds of miles separating us. I don’t need anything else getting in the way. When it’s us together, babe, it’s just us. There’s nothing disgusting about doing what feels good when you’re with the one you love. No secrets. No shame. Nothing between us.”
Willow touched a finger to the screen, wishing she could feel his skin. “Nothing between us,” she said. “Now, if I show you what’s in my fridge, will you help me put together a decent dinner? I’m starving.”
* * *
Willow lay awake that night, her belly as full as her heart, while her mind worked through what seemed to be an infinite number of questions about where she was with her life and what she was doing. She was almost certain if Harry asked her to move to Bliss to be with him, she would say yes. She would give up her career in order to be part of his li
fe in South Carolina.
But she wasn’t sure it was right to feel that way.
Wasn’t she supposed to be able to support herself?
Wasn’t she supposed to put herself first?
Wasn’t that the right thing to do?
If she moved to Bliss, she would have no source of income, no safety net if things didn’t work out between her and Harry. If she quit dancing and later discovered that was the wrong decision, she couldn’t just make some calls and get her job back.
Dancing took discipline. Constant and consistent discipline. If she quit, it meant she was done. Forever. There’d be no turning back if things went wrong in Bliss. And then what would she be without either Harry or dancing?
She would still be herself. That would always be true, no matter the circumstances. But she’d also be in quite a pickle—no job, no skills, and the knowledge that she threw away her life for a man.
Troubled by questions about the future, Willow fell into a murky sleep, waking often, wishing she could just curl up against Harry instead of tossing and turning in her suddenly too big bed.
Chapter Thirty-One
Willow
Willow stepped through the exit of Charleston International Airport, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. She could barely believe she was even thinking it, but everything was better in South Carolina. The sun, the smell, the warmth.
Harry.
There’s nothing quite as welcome as the sun to a New Yorker in winter.
She scanned the line of cars waiting to pick up passengers and found an unmistakable, candy apple red GTO at the front of the line. Harry leaned against the car, his arms folded over his chest and his long legs crossed at the ankles, staring toward the doors. She ran to him, the wheels on her luggage thunking over every break in the concrete. Her hair streamed behind her while her soul reached in front and she felt complete for the first time since he left New York the month before.
“Hey,” she said when she came to a stop in front of the man who held her heart, wanting to say so much more, but not sure how to articulate everything she was feeling.
Harry didn’t move.
He didn’t uncross his arms.
He didn’t push off the car and pull her into him.
He didn’t even smile. He just stared her way, his sunglasses making his face unreadable. Willow’s heart did its best impression of dying, slowing to a stop and then speeding around like a hummingbird on crack.
She froze. Waiting for him to speak—needing him to speak.
And then he slid his sunglasses down his nose and she could see just the faintest glimmer of tears receding in his eyes. “Hey,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You, my friend, are a sight for sore eyes.”
Relief brought its own set of tears, blurring her vision. “I was afraid you were mad at me!” She dropped her bag and rushed into his arms, pressing her face to his chest and listening to the steady beat of his heart while breathing him in.
He ran a hand through her hair, then, ever so gently, turned her face to meet his gaze. “How could I ever be mad at you? You’re my angel. My heartbeat. My soul.”
Willow sniffled and everything she wanted to say got stuck behind the lump in her throat. “I love you,” she managed, hopeful he could see how it went beyond words and had become her definition.
“I love you, too.” He dug in his pocket and pulled out the car keys, swirled them around his index finger, and gave her a look that sent nerves jangling through her system.
“You trust me to drive the GTO?” She didn’t know if she trusted herself to drive the GTO.
Harry pulled his sunglasses all the way off and laughed. “Willow. My angel. I love you. Like a lot. Don’t forget that. But this thing has a manual transmission I rebuilt myself. I won’t be teaching you how to drive stick in this.”
Relief and embarrassment flared in bright red streaks across her cheeks. “I’m not gonna lie. That’s more than fine with me.” She laughed nervously. “Shows you how much I know about cars. I actually forgot you had to shift some of them yourself.”
Harry opened the passenger door for her before stowing her bag in the trunk. He hopped into the driver’s seat and brought the engine to life with a twist of his wrist. As Willow watched his feet work the pedals while his hand worked the shifter, she was thankful not to be the one behind the wheel. At least not in that car.
“You like watching me work my stick?” Harry’s voice broke through her reverie. She looked up to find him grinning like a schoolboy.
“Surprisingly, I do.” She bit her lip. “Would you show me how to work your stick? The way you like it?”
Harry pulled into his driveway and parked the GTO. “Don’t you worry on that one. The way you do it? That’s the way I like it. Now,” he said, opening the door and stepping one foot out, “why don’t you come inside with me and I’ll show you just exactly how much I like it.”
* * *
One hour and approximately fourteen orgasms later, Harry and Willow moved out to the deck to enjoy the sunshine. Harry bundled up in jeans and a sweatshirt while Willow sported a short-sleeved T-shirt.
He gave her a look like she was a madwoman. “Aren’t you cold?”
“You South Carolinians are so cute,” she said as she reached across the open space between their armchairs and patted his hand. “When I left my apartment this morning, it was four degrees. Four. The sky has been gray for the last week straight. Right now, I’m basking in the sunshine in nearly sixty-degree weather.”
“Does that mean you aren’t cold?”
“No, silly! It means you’re ridiculous for being cold.”
Harry pursed his lips and lifted his eyebrows. “Now the gloves come off, huh? Is this what life with you is like? Is this what I have to look forward to? Name-calling and abuse?”
Willow’s stomach did a flip-flopping head-over-heels tumble and she choked on her laughter. What did he mean, look forward to?
Did he mean, like, the way things were in that moment? With him in Bliss and her in New York and a lot of missing each other in between?
Or was he looking toward a real, honest to goodness future? One where they shared the same space, at the same time, all the time?
Harry’s face fell. “Uh-oh. What did I say? You look like someone just ran over your cat.”
“I don’t have a cat.” She really wasn’t ready to ask the whole where is this relationship going question. Absolutely no one liked that question and the chances were that his answer would be just as vague as hers and then there would be this big, blank space of awkward hanging in the air between them.
“Clever,” Harry said. “But don’t do that. Remember what I said about wanting nothing between us? That whole deal where I got super romantic and told you that the physical distance between our homes was enough? That we didn’t need to add anything else?” Carefully, cautiously, he took her hand, ran his thumb over her knuckle, and leaned across the space to kiss each finger. “I think you just added something.”
Willow looked away and shook her head. “It was just a silly thought. Not important.”
“Nope. Not gonna accept that as an answer.”
She looked at Harry and sighed. She knew the moment she brought up the future, it could force a conversation which might lead to the realization that there was no future for them and she one-hundred percent did not want to do that.
“Shit, Willie. You’re scaring me. Is it that bad?” Harry sat forward and swung his legs off the chair so he could face her.
“No, no, no. It’s not bad…” Willow closed her eyes and took a breath.
“Well then come on, baby. Talk to me. I’m here for you, in all ways on all days.”
When she opened her eyes, she almost couldn’t see through the tears. “That’s the thing. I want that. I really, really want that. I want you every single day of my life. I spend so much time missing you, and then we finally get together and time stops because it’s like finally all is right with t
he world. And then I go home, or you go home, and life goes back to normal…” She swiped at the tears in her eyes. “That’s the thing, I guess. I want being with you to be normal. Not the other way around.”
Harry pulled her into his lap and wrapped her in his arms, rocking her back and forth while she cried. He didn’t say a word, just let his body and his breath comfort her. When she finally stopped crying, he tilted her chin and pressed a delicate kiss to her forehead.
“It’s the only dry spot on your face,” he said. “Or I would have gone for the lips.”
Willow made a sound that was supposed to be a laugh, then did her best to dry her face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to mess up our time together.”
“Don’t you dare apologize. And I want you to know that I feel the exact same way. I miss you and I don’t feel like I’m really living until we’re together. You’re my oxygen and my heart lives with you.”
Willow sniffed, her eyes burning. “You’re gonna make me cry again.”
“I promise you. All I want in this life is you. And right now, that means I only get you in short doses, and think about it. Isn’t that the way it should be at this point in time? You’re busy. You’re dancing in your dream company, getting ready to debut in your dream role! Where the hell would I fit into your life right now?”
Willow started to protest and Harry held up a hand.
“That’s the way it should be. You worked hard for this. You have to reap the rewards. But you better believe that once the curtain closes on that final show of Romeo and Juliet next month, I’ll be doing my damnedest to make sure that I’m part of your next set of dreams.” Harry swallowed hard and Willow could have sworn she saw a million things he couldn’t figure how to put into words begging to be noticed in his eyes. “Because you better believe that you’re a part of mine.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Harry