“Whoops. Sorry, man,” Noah said.
Jim shook the head full of shock-white hair that made him look much older than forty-four, which Noah knew him to be.
“No harm, no foul.” He stared after Noah as he ran down the first of five flights, taking two steps with each stride. “Where’s the fire?”
Noah heard Jim chuckle, but he was already too far down the stairwell to respond.
He’d been the last one out of the office five out of five days that week. Hell, nine was early compared to his recent track record. As he walked through the empty parking garage, his footsteps echoed off the shadowy concrete. At least the restaurant’s nearby, he thought as he slid behind the wheel and turned the key. The engine’s roar seemed five times louder than usual in the silent, cavernous space. His heart’s pounding rhythm felt five times faster than usual, too—he hated being late.
He’d planned to go home, shower, and change before meeting Erin tonight, but that just hadn’t been in the cards. She’d have to take him as he was.
He sighed. He’d been giving her a lot to take lately. Of course, she’d been busy, too. Ever since the school year had started she’d had lessons to plan and assignments to grade every night. He’d barely spoken to her all week, which was why tonight was so important. It wasn’t a special occasion, but Erin had put a lot of effort into planning this date. She’d made the reservation late and near his office on purpose because of how busy he’d been. The guilt attached to this thought traveled from his brain to his right foot, which pressed harder on the gas pedal.
He sped between stoplights, covering the half-mile distance to the restaurant in record time. His tires squealed as he veered into the parking lot, but the effort was in vain—the lot was full. Frustrated, he backed out onto the residential street and drove halfway up the block before squeezing his SUV into an open street spot and jogging up the sidewalk toward the trendy bistro Erin had picked.
The place was buzzing with people, some standing in clusters on the sidewalk waiting to be seated and others eating and drinking on an outdoor patio. A Justin Timberlake song blared through invisible speakers, but as Noah got closer to the building, he couldn’t hear it anymore above the din. To get to the entry, he had to push through the outdoor space, which was covered by a wood pergola wound with creeping foliage. Servers rushed in and out through a single glass door set into the building’s olive-painted brick.
Inside, the restaurant was just as frenetic, with dim lighting and earthy décor. Noah bypassed the hostess stand and walked through the bar and into the main dining room. His eyes roved the crowd for Erin. In the center of the room, tables were lit by candles, and around the perimeter, chocolate suede booths were lit by amber-colored glass pendants. He spotted Erin in one of the booths along the back wall.
She didn’t look unhappy. Quite the opposite, actually—she looked thrilled to see him.
He sighed again, this time in relief. Erin was more than he deserved. He sauntered over to the table and slid onto the bench across from her.
“Finally made it, I see.” Her voice was cool, but her eyes were smiling.
He grimaced, cringing as he peered at her. “I’m so sorry.”
She shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. I just sat down a few minutes ago. I know you’ve got a lot on your shoulders right now.”
He couldn’t argue with that.
Since the night he and Erin had returned from their trip, he’d felt a new weight pressing down on him. Work was part of it—the heaviest part. He had several projects running at once, which wasn’t unusual, but the hotel he’d begun work on in the fall had turned into the biggest job of his career. The development team had expanded its concept from its initial Dallas flagship to a burgeoning chain of chic, urban, ultra-modern boutique hotels. He’d been named lead architect on the project, and because of that he’d been out of town more than he’d been home in recent weeks.
It hadn’t left much time for a relationship, and theirs had become increasingly complicated since the night they’d returned from Illinois.
The first thing Noah had done after driving Erin to her apartment that night was call Sam. He could tell she was in no mood to be harassed—she’d just spent seven hours entertaining Jonas on the car ride to Ann Arbor—but he couldn’t stop himself from harassing her anyway. As soon as she picked up the phone he lit into her about what he’d overheard at the reception.
To his utter disbelief, she played dumb.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. You’re imagining things,” she said. She begged off the phone quickly, and with Jonas wailing in the background, Noah couldn’t argue. He hung up speechless, disappointment and something close to fury welling up inside him. He had no idea what his sisters were keeping from him or why. All he knew was Sam was lying.
Next he’d tried to call Nicki, but he knew even before dialing that it would be a pointless exercise. If Sam wasn’t talking, there was no way Nicki would clue him in. He was at a loss. He had no idea what was going on with Amelia, and there was absolutely no one else he was willing to ask. He’d gone online and searched her name on Facebook—something he’d done at least a hundred times before—but even though his search turned up fifty-seven Amelia Wrights, none of them was her. Who the hell isn’t on Facebook these days? he’d thought before turning to Google for another fruitless search. Apart from a few “people search” entries for Amelia Wrights in Tennessee that might or might not be her, her name pulled up nothing of interest.
He knew he shouldn’t care so much, and he’d spent the last eleven weeks trying to forget he’d heard anything at all. He had his own life to worry about.
He glanced up from his menu to study Erin, who was reading hers. She looked up then and asked, “What are you getting?”
Noah shook his head slightly and turned his eyes back to the entrees he hadn’t looked at yet. “I don’t know. You?”
She grinned. “That depends on what you’re getting.”
He smiled wryly and scanned the menu, knowing he’d be giving up half his meal to her. She usually sampled so much from his plate that they wound up switching entrees halfway through the meal. She liked to “try a little bit of everything,” as she said. He didn’t mind. Food was food.
Despite, or maybe because of, his crazy travel schedule, Erin had become a more steady fixture not only in his life, but at his place. She officially had a toothbrush at his condo now and usually stayed over when he was in town to maximize their time together.
Their relationship had advanced in other ways, as well.
Noah hadn’t been sure what to expect after his major screw-up the night they’d returned from Illinois, but Erin seemed to have forgotten all about that…or at least, she hadn’t brought it up. The next weekend they’d picked up where they’d left off the Sunday before, only this time neither of them stopped. Once they’d finally had sex, Erin seemed somehow happier, more content. Secure. The word prompted within Noah a strange mixture of fear and relief.
He glanced up from his menu and found Erin’s green eyes on him. He shook off his thoughts and made a concerted effort to be in the moment.
“How’s your week been?”
“Challenging.” She huffed out a sigh and then launched into a description of the fight she’d almost been dragged into in the freshman hallway—she’d been dealing with drama inside and outside the classroom since the school year had started. He was grateful for her preoccupation. It kept her from noticing his so much.
They talked their way through dinner, him filling her in on the latest developments with his project after she’d finished talking about her day. As their plates were lifted from the table, she locked eyes with him.
“Want to come to my place?”
His eyes opened wider in surprise. He’d figured she’d end up at his place tonight.
“What about Sherri?”
Her roommate was almost always home, which was why they hardly ever spent time there.
“O
ut of town. At her folks’ for the weekend.”
When they left the restaurant, he stopped by his condo to let Amos out and make sure he had food in his bowl for the morning. He’d gone home earlier in the day to feed him and take him for a walk, but he hadn’t taken him to the office because of his and Erin’s date.
He hesitated in his darkened entry hall for a few seconds, deliberating, and then turned around and grabbed his own toothbrush on the way out.
Things sure were getting complicated.
Half an hour later, they were nestled on the chaise attached to one end of Sherri’s sofa. Erin rested in front of him with her head leaning back into his chest. He watched the movie she’d put into the DVD player with half interest.
He’d missed her this week, he realized, and the sudden surge of affection distracted him entirely from the action taking place on screen.
His lips moved against her hair.
She turned her head up to catch his eye.
“You’re staying over, right?”
“If you want me to.”
His hands moved to her shoulders. He felt the tension of her stressful week knotting them and began to massage it out. She let out a long sigh, more like a moan, and leaned forward to give him more room. He half-smiled as he rubbed her neck and shoulders and continued down her back. After a few minutes without conversation, the movie just a quiet buzz in the background, she shifted her body around to face him.
“What do you want, Noah?”
His hands dropped to his sides. He was always caught off guard when Erin became serious. He examined her uncertainly.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, where do you see us headed?” She asked the question slowly, her eyes filled with caution.
He groaned inwardly. He hadn’t handled their last “where is this going?” talk very well. And despite the ways their relationship had changed in the last three months, he still didn’t know how to answer her question.
“What do you see, Erin?”
He hated to cop out on her like that, but he needed help to figure out where she wanted this conversation to go. She stared at him for a few seconds, apparently deliberating that herself.
“We’ve known each other almost a year now. That seems hard to believe.”
She was avoiding the question too. What were they doing? Things had gotten more serious between them, that much was obvious. But they’d still been avoiding talk about the future, and he realized he didn’t know what Erin’s vision for her future looked like.
He didn’t know what he wanted, either.
He loved her. He knew he wasn’t just telling himself that. It might not be the same kind of all-encompassing, life-changing thing he’d experienced with Amelia, but he had a great time with Erin, felt comfortable around her. No one would ever replace Amelia—he’d figured that out, if nothing else, in the past eleven months. But Amelia was long gone, and Erin was here. He tried to picture a life with her.
He could sort of see it.
He imagined he and Erin could be happy together.
The glimpse of his possible future forced back the questions that had formed in his mind during his visit home. Since he and Erin were suddenly asking the hard questions, it seemed like the right time to bring them up.
He realized, as he noticed the way her eyes were searching his, trying to read his thoughts, that he’d been quiet too long.
“What do you want out of life?” he asked suddenly, his voice low and earnest. “Family, house, the whole nine yards?”
This time, she was the one taken off guard.
“Wow.” She stared at him. “Yes…no…maybe?”
One corner of his mouth twitched as he processed her response. One thing about Erin, she wasn’t stereotypical. Not that he knew that much about women and relationships, but her reactions always managed to surprise him. He smiled in spite of himself, easing the tension somewhat.
“What does that mean?”
Her lips curved up slightly, but her eyes were guarded.
“I don’t know, Noah. I used to want that. Or I thought I did. And being with you makes me want those things…” She trailed off. “But I’m not sure you want them.” Her eyes dropped from his and studied the planes of his chest beneath his rumpled shirt. “With me.”
The last two words were almost a whisper.
Floored, his mouth dropped open, and then he closed it again. So he’d read her wrong. He hadn’t imagined the look of caution, of uncertainty, he’d seen in her eyes. But apparently it wasn’t a fear of commitment that was causing it.
It was…him.
He had no idea what Erin saw when she looked at him, and he didn’t know how to fix whatever it was she didn’t see. He wondered again how much she’d deduced about his hang-ups with his past. Since they hadn’t really talked about it, thanks to him, he didn’t have a clue.
What he did know was that he didn’t want to mess this up. Erin was the best thing that had happened in his life in a long time. He felt that now, more clearly than before.
He turned her chin toward him to look her in the eye. When he spoke, his voice was low and raw.
“I love you, Erin. And I want you. And I’m not just saying that.”
The declaration hung in the air between them.
She studied him for a long moment, her lips pressed together as she weighed his words.
“I believe you,” she said.
He slowly let out the breath he’d been holding. She half smiled, satisfied…for now, and they continued to study one another in silence. Staring into her eyes, he felt the atmosphere between them perceptibly change.
“I love you,” she whispered.
She reached for him, her fingers bunching up a handful of his shirt as she pulled him to her. He felt the last shreds of tension in the room dissolve as his lips met hers. Within seconds, they were wound together on the chaise. After a few minutes he shifted his body onto the longer plane of the sofa, stretching out and pulling her with him. Instead of following his lead, she disentangled herself from his arms. She made a move to get up and he protested, pulling her back down. She laughed and leaned in to kiss him on the mouth.
“I’m going to pour us some wine. I’ll meet you in my room.”
That effectively ended his protest. He watched her walk away, his eyes traveling the length of her as she moved toward the kitchen and disappeared around the corner. He slid off the sofa and moved wordlessly down her apartment’s short hallway and through her bedroom to the attached bath.
Leaving it a minute later, he sauntered back into her room. It smelled like her, like the tropical-scented lotions and shampoos she liked to use. Down the hall, he heard the sound of a cork being pulled from a bottle, and then of glasses clinking together as she pulled them from the cabinet.
As he waited he wandered around her room, which was neat despite the fact that it was crammed with as much furniture as would possibly fit into the space, and very girly, with stylized floral artwork on the walls and bursts of bright pink and orange winding a thread through the décor. He’d spent so little time here that the room was almost unfamiliar to him.
He walked around the bed and flipped on the room’s one lamp, which rested on a beat-up Ikea chest of drawers Erin used as a bedside table. He shook his head at the lamp’s hot-pink, fur-trimmed shade, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. I’ll never understand women.
He made a move toward the door to switch off the overhead light, but as he turned away from the silly lampshade, an object underneath it caught his eye. He jerked his head back toward the nightstand and moved to it without thinking. His hands automatically reached for the thick paperback book that had grabbed his attention.
On the bottom, left-hand corner of the back cover, which was facing up, was a picture of Amelia.
He sucked in a sharp breath and let it out slowly, his heart racing in his chest for an entirely different reason than it had minutes earlier.
It’s not her. It’
s somebody who looks like her. It’s just a coincidence.
Still, he pulled the book toward his face to examine the photo more closely. He took another deep breath and held it this time. The woman in the photo looked exactly like Amelia. He flipped the book over in his hands and studied its cover—deep gray, with a stark, white rose on a background of stars. Across the top, bold blue letters spelled out the title, “Shattered.” And across the bottom, in lighter blue type, was the author’s name. “Mel Henry.”
Noah blew out the breath in a slow gush. It isn’t her.
He flipped the book over once again and studied the tiny picture. God, the resemblance was uncanny. Just the sight of it twisted his gut. He peered harder at the photo, and then his eyes drifted to the paragraph beside it labeled “About the author.” It read:
Mel Henry is the New York Times and USA Today best-selling author of three novels. Her debut, Shattered, has sold more than 50 million copies, been translated into 43 languages, and is currently in production as a feature film. Henry, a former public relations executive and a graduate of Brayburn University, lives in Memphis, Tennessee.
Brayburn University! Noah felt as if the wind had been knocked from his chest, and he struggled to catch his breath. Mel Henry. Everybody Amelia knew called her Mel, everybody except him. And Henry—Henry was her brother’s name. But…no! No, this couldn’t be Amelia. He stared at the photo until it didn’t make sense anymore, until the individual pixels that formed Amelia’s face blurred before his eyes.
He shook his head slowly, trying to catch his tangled thoughts up to what his eyes had already processed. It was Amelia, he was suddenly sure, and she hadn’t changed much since he’d last seen her. Same long, straight chestnut hair, same quiet smile, same intense hazel eyes—eyes that had haunted his dreams for years, that haunted them still.
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