When Fates Collide

by Isabelle Richards

  I laugh. “Didn’t I tell you we’re long past inappropriate?”

  We both chuckle, and then there’s an awkward silence. He plays with the carpet seam with his toe, looking uneasy.

  “Yes, I’m a recently-widowed woman, but I’m not going through the typical mourning process. My relationship was over years ago. I was more like the hired help than Ash’s wife. I took care of the laundry, made sure the gutters got cleaned, and stuff like that. We slept in different rooms and barely saw each other. He started cheating on me almost as soon as we came back from our honeymoon. Maybe before. The only reason I stayed was to take care of my father-in-law.”

  I’m not sure why I’ve just said all that. Gavin wasn’t asking for permission to make a move. He was just being respectful. My confession has taken an already awkward situation and put it through puberty—now it’s the tallest girl in class, with no boobs and horrible acne. Making things worse seems to be a special skill of mine.

  Gavin shakes his head and furrows his brow. He looks as though he wants to say something but chooses not to. He just keeps shaking his head, a scowl on his face. He looks disgusted, and I feel ashamed.

  “I know it sounds horrible. I feel wretched just hearing myself say it. My only hope is that this is one of the stages of grief or I’m in shock or something.” I look down and pull at a loose thread on the bedspread. “With everything that he’s done to put me in the position I’m in, I’m so angry. It’s horrific that he lost his life. I would never have wanted that. But I’m not sad that he’s not a part of my life anymore. I know I’m a horrible person for admitting this, but for the first time in a long time, I feel a sense of freedom.”

  “That anger will go away in time,” he says softly.

  “Maybe it will. Maybe it won’t. It’ll take a lot for me to make peace with what he’s done. The fact of the matter is I wasn’t in love with him. Hadn’t been for a long time. After what I went through today, I don’t know if can ever forgive him.”

  He crosses the room and sits next to me. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  I tell him the whole story, every detail—minus my bravado. I become so animated that I pace the room, talking excessively with my hands. He listens, not saying anything.

  After I get the whole story out, I’m spent and a little breathless. I sit next to him on the edge of the bed. He doesn’t say anything for quite a while.

  When he finally speaks, his voice sounds strained, as though he’s trying to hold back his emotions. “If only I hadn’t been in the shower, I—”

  “Gavin, this isn’t your fault. Who knows what they would have done to you if you had been there? Clearly, they don’t like witnesses. Things worked out for the best. I’m back and safe. Hopefully, this is all behind us now.”

  “When I walked out into the empty living room with the door wide open, my heart seized. I called out to you, searched every nook and cranny of that flat, and there wasn’t a trace of you. While I waited for the FBI to arrive, I searched every floor, knocked on every door hoping someone saw you. I must have looked like a madman. I probably scared all of the tenants. When Meredith arrived, I went with her to look at the security footage. The guys were dressed in police uniforms and had badges, walked right passed the guard and carried you out the back. Your body was limp, and I was petrified you were ... that I would never see you again. I just couldn’t bear the thought. I’ve already lost one person I care about from this calamity. I can’t bear to lose another.”

  I pat his hand. “It must have been traumatic. I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I probably would have been a hysterical mess if the roles had been reversed.”

  He pauses for a moment, tracing the art deco pattern on the bedspread with his finger. “I know we’ve only known each other for a short amount of time, and we met under such unorthodox circumstances, but in the last few days, I’ve come to fancy you. I wish neither of us was caught up in this mess, but I’m thankful I’m going through it with you.”

  He looks down and away as if to hide his emotions. I reach my hand up to gently touch his face and turn it toward me. “Me too. You’re all I’ve got these days, Oxford.” I lose track of my thoughts as I get lost in those eyes again.

  We stare at each other for what feels like forever, the chemistry between us building with each passing second. I’m not sure who leans in first, but the next thing I know, we’re kissing. The kind of kiss that makes you feel like you’re floating. Sweet, sensual, and pure magic. I’m still mesmerized by the connection when he pulls away.

  “I’m so sorry. That was a mistake.” He brings his hands to his lips as he stands up and walks toward the door. He hangs his head as he rakes his fingers through his hair. His back is to me when he says, “I should go.” He runs out the door before I can say another word.

  The kiss was deliciously intense. So intense it bolted him right out the door. What have I done? Gavin has been the only stable thing in my life, and I’ve just fucked it up. Why? Because he has a whisper-light touch that makes me tingle all over? Because those full lips and hypnotizing eyes pull me in like a magnet?

  I know he’s mourning Brooke, and I’m… well, I’m not sure how to describe what I’m feeling about Ash. My emotions are so jumbled and confused. In a very short time, Gavin and I have gone from strangers to close friends. Today was an emotionally charged day, and we’ve both leaned on each other. Probably more than we should have. I hope this is nothing more than a momentary lapse in judgment. One that felt damn good.

  This kiss could destroy our friendship, and I need him in my life more than I need to be kissed. Kissing would be a bonus, but this isn’t the time to be greedy. I decide to head to bed and hope Gavin will have forgiven me by morning. I’ve been running on fumes for days and I desperately need to recharge, but I can’t shut down. My body and brain are exhausted, begging me for sleep, but it never comes. I keep replaying the kiss over and over in my mind, wishing I hadn’t done it, and at the same time, wishing I could do it again.

  After tossing and turning for too long, I jump out of bed. I need to talk to him. Throwing caution to the wind, I run from my room. I make it to the hallway before I realize I have no idea which room he’s in. I return to my room, call the front desk, and ask for Gavin’s room. No Gavin Edwards.

  “Oh, right,” I say. “What name is my room registered under?”

  The front desk guy is clearly irritated that I have interrupted whatever he’s doing. “Uh, you don’t know your own name?”

  “Look, dude, just tell me the name.” I throw an equal amount of irritation back at him.

  “Eve Moneypenny?” He sounds very confused. “Is that, uh, your real name?”

  “How do you not know who Moneypenny is? Do you live under a rock? Please tell me what room James Bond is in.”

  “Uh, there isn’t a James B—Oh, wait, there is. Ms. Moneypenny, I can’t release his room number. I can put your call through though. Have a good night.”

  The line rings and rings until I’m redirected back to the dipshit at the front desk. Frustrated, I call Meredith, knowing she’s probably still up and working. She barks his room number at me, and then yells at me about something I don’t stick around to hear. I imagine I’ve hung up and made it down the hall long before she realizes I’ve dropped the call.

  The elevator is taking forever to arrive. But my emotions have taken over, and I can’t waste another second to find him, so I take the stairs. When I hit the tenth floor, I run down to ten twenty-three and knock gently on the door. “Gavin. Are you awake? Please let me in!”

  Nothing.

  “Gavin, can we please talk about this? I don’t want anything to be weird between us.”

  I bang on the door for another ten minutes before I give up and plod slowly back to my room. Deflated, I wait for the elevator, giving myself time to I wallow in my disappointment. First I kiss him, then I harass him. It’s not shocking that he won’t answer the door.

  When the carriage doors open
on my floor, I drag my feet as I walk sluggishly down the hallway toward my room. When I get there, I see that I left in such a hurry that the door is still open. Today has not been my day with doors.

  I walk in, desperate to climb into bed and pout, when I’m suddenly scooped up by Gavin. He pulls me into a clutching embrace. “Bloody hell, woman! What is your aversion to closing doors? I thought you’d been snatched again!”

  The comfort of his hug is inviting, and I’m tempted to never let him go. He has that sexy masculine smell, sweat with a hint of soap. He’s dressed in running shorts, shoes, and a tank top that shows off his amazingly toned arms. I’m guessing he went for a hard run because his clothes are slightly damp.

  “You’re going to give me a heart attack if you keep doing this to me,” he says before letting me go.

  When he releases me, I flick the brim of the baseball cap that he’s wearing backwards. “I thought guys stopped wearing their hats like that like ten years ago.” I smirk before turning to pull the door closed behind me.

  He laughs as he readjusts his hat. “Some looks are timeless.” He hands me a bouquet of sad, wilted flowers. “Here. I got these for you.”

  “Thank you for the dying flowers?” I say with sarcastic curiosity. “I was just thinking this hotel room could use a little potpourri.”

  He smiles sheepishly. “I went on a run to try to clear my head, and a gentleman on the street corner was selling them. I wish I had gotten a better look at them though. They are rather pathetic, aren’t they?”

  I bring them to my nose, and they smell as though they’ve just crossed the line from fresh to rotting. “It was a sweet gesture, regardless. I can’t even remember the last time someone bought me flowers.”

  “I’m sorry for what happened earlier, and I feel worse about the way I handled myself. I didn’t express myself well, or at all, really.” He takes the flowers from me and sets them down on an end table, then sits down. “Running out on you was cowardly.”

  I join him on the edge of the bed, keeping a respectable distance. “You have nothing to apologize for. An innocent moment got carried away. Can we just forget it?” I ask. “It would break my heart if something came between us. A crazy twist of fate has brought us together on this insane ride, but we’re on it together. I can’t navigate this without you. Let’s just pretend it never happened.”

  He cups my face and tilts it so he can look straight into my eyes. He says to me with the softest, most tender voice, “I panicked because I can’t imagine getting through this without you, and I don’t want to mess that up. We’re both going to have a tough go of it in the next few weeks. We need each other. I don’t want that to get mucked up.” He scoots closer to me. “Lily, I had to pull away because I didn’t want to stop. But I had to stop. This is the wrong time to cross lines we can’t uncross. We need to grieve and find closure in our lives before we start new chapters. Does that make sense?”

  I wrap my arms around him. “Of course. I understand.” As I pull away, our eyes meet again. I feel myself being drawn back in, but neither of us tries to fight the urge. Our lips meet, and it’s enchanting. His lips softly envelope mine, the tip of his tongue tempting me by slowly tracing my lips, drawing me further and further into his kiss.

  My heart races with each touch of his lips to mine. I want to run my hands all over his body, but I hold back. I know that’s not what he wants right now. I use all my might to refrain and focus on enjoying the moment while it lasts, knowing that any second he’ll come to his senses and pull away. But he doesn’t. Instead, he wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. I can feel his excitement growing. Running shorts don’t leave much to the imagination.

  As the passion grows between us, our bodies writhe against each other. We hold hands rather than exploring each other the way I know we both want to. The heat between us becomes intense. My body yearns for more contact, and I’m not sure how much longer I can control myself. He pulls away, but this time he doesn’t run. He gives me a look that says he wants to devour me. He’s breathing heavily, and his muscles are tense and rigid as though he is forcing himself to hold back.

  “Why is this a bad idea again? I remember you giving a reason, but I can’t for the life of me remember what it was. Hard to imagine something that feels like that not being a good thing,” I say, challenging him.

  I know he’s fighting with himself, and I’m being cruel by egging him on. I know I shouldn’t. I should respect his choice. The thing is I just don’t want to. So, I keep pushing the envelope.

  I lean in and whisper in his ear, “Was that really so bad?” My voice oozes with seduction. I have no idea where this sexuality and chutzpah are coming from. This side of me has been dormant for years. Gavin’s unleashed something in me. Something primal. And I like it.

  He shakes his head and takes in a slow, deep breath. “You little minx.”

  “If this is too much for you, you can always walk away,” I say teasingly. Judging from what I feel through those running shorts, he might have trouble walking.

  Gavin looks down at me with pleading eyes. I’m not sure if he is begging me to stop or begging me to keep pushing him. I lean forward and gently blow on his neck, getting as close to him without actually touching him as possible. A slight tremor ripples through his muscles, telling me it’s taking everything he has to hold himself back.

  A deep growl comes from somewhere deep within Gavin as he pushes my shoulders back and I fall back on the bed. At that moment, the room phone rings. A few seconds later, his cell phone follows suit. We look at each other, knowing we have to answer. It’s two thirty in the morning, and our agency pals wouldn’t call unless it was urgent.

  We separate, trying to catch our breath and regain composure.

  “Maybe you were right. Kissing’s a bad idea,” I say, trying to lighten the mood.

  He gives me a Cheshire Cat grin. “Clearly a bad idea”.

  I pick up my phone. “Lily, wake your ass up!” Meredith screams before I have a chance to say hello.

  “Hello to you, too,” I say, not trying to hide my frustration.

  “There’s a car downstairs. Get in it now and get down here.”

  Before I can respond, she’s gone. “Looks like we need to get dressed. Did they tell you what was going on?” I ask.

  “Cortez, their PR person, called my mobile. They think someone has the story. I was going to issue a press release later today, but she thinks I need to act now.”

  Back to reality.

  Gavin heads back to his room to shower quickly and get dressed. I just throw on the clothes that Meredith packed for me. I don’t really care what I look like. I won’t be issuing any press releases.

  We meet around the backside of the hotel and climb into the backseat of the squad car. Ten minutes ago, we were engulfed in passion, and now we’ve done a one-eighty and are about to dive into a deep pool of grief, mourning, and guilt.

  I can’t get a read on him. His posture and body language don’t give anything away. He’s composed and controlled, nothing like that conflicted man that was in my hotel room just moments ago. I’m not sure what to make of it. I’m jealous of how assured he appears. In the blink of an eye, he’s gone from sweat-drenched workout wear to looking like he could work a runway in his charcoal slacks and white oxford. I, on the other hand, have bitten all my nails down to the quick, my hair is a fly-away mess, and I’m wearing jeans that are far too big with a tank top that’s a pinch too small. Emotionally, I’m as disheveled as I must look.

  Gavin reaches out and grabs my hand. He gently runs his thumb along mine. It’s such a simple gesture, but it soothes my anxiety. As we get closer to the station, he leans over and whispers in my ear, “This is going to be complicated. There’s a lot going on for both of us. I’m here for you, every step of the way.” When we arrive, he kisses my forehead before stepping out of the car.

  Nine

  When we walk into the building, it’s a zoo. The entire taskforce has
been called in. The agency acronym alphabet soup makes my head spin. Everyone is chiming in about how their case could be blown if this story has leaked. Lots of testosterone, too much caffeine, and not enough sleep are the perfect recipe for the erupting volcano of craziness before me. Wanting to avoid the eruption, I sneak out and find a quiet corner that I hope will keep me out of the chaos.

  “Her parents can’t find out from the news,” I hear Gavin say. “Greene, we must go out there and tell them. It would be cruel for them to find out this way. They’ve suffered enough.”

  “Of course. Let’s go,” Greene responds.

  Sully comes up to me while I’m eavesdropping. “The Bureau pays decent money for snoops, you know. I’d be happy to get you an application if you’re looking to make a profession out of it.”

  My face must give away my embarrassment. “I’m hiding out from the insanity of the meeting in there. I didn’t mean to intrude. I just needed out of that room.”

  “Yeah, they’re going to Brooke’s parent’s house.”

  I think about the finality of what Gavin’s about to do. After today, I’ll have to make a similar phone call to Ashton’s mom. It’s about to get real.

  He snaps in front of my face, bringing me out of my thoughts and fears into the present. “Hey, you with me? We need to chat now.”

  “How can I refuse an offer that enticing? Let me guess, we’re going to my favorite room?” I ask sarcastically.

  He gives a gentle tug on my elbow to get me moving. “It’ll be better in there.”

  The more time I spend in this interrogation room, the less intimidating it appears. It isn’t scary for me anymore as much as it is annoying and depressing. The paint is chipped, the legs of the table are speckled with rust, and based on the amount of dust and grime on the floor, I’m guessing it hasn’t been cleaned since the linoleum was installed.