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Into Your Arms (A Contemporary Romance Novel)

Page 21

by Strom, Abigail


  Love.

  “Shit,” he whispered, feeling a pressure in his sinuses and an itching tingle behind his eyes.

  “Shit,” he said again, laying the program on the seat and covering his face with his hands.

  He sat like that for a long time. When he finally let his hands drop it was dark out, and he could see his face in the window.

  “You’re an idiot,” he said to his reflection.

  His reflection didn’t argue the point.

  Then he grabbed his phone and scrolled through his contacts to see if he had David Gardner’s number.

  * * *

  “He didn’t officially break up with you,” Emilio reminded her.

  “Not yet. This is Nick letting me down gently. He probably figures that after a few weeks or months apart the break-up will sort of take care of itself.” There was a sudden spasm in her throat. “I’ve never felt this way before. I always thought if I did…if I ever loved someone this much…that it would be enough. But it’s not.” She looked at Emilio accusingly. “You told me if I followed my heart everything would be okay.”

  Emilio was sitting across from her, drinking the last of his Singapore Sling. He’d found the recipe in a retro cocktail book and had brought the ingredients to her apartment to mix them.

  “You’re not drinking,” he said, nodding at her full glass.

  “I had a few sips. But I don’t really like gin.”

  “You might have mentioned that before.”

  “I thought you knew. Anyway, you were having fun. I didn’t want to spoil it.”

  “You’re a sweetheart. You know that, right?”

  “Speaking of hearts…”

  “I never said if you follow your heart everything would be okay. I’d never say something that dumb. There’s never a guarantee everything will be okay, no matter what you do.”

  “But you did tell me to follow my heart. I remember that part distinctly.”

  “Sure.”

  “And now my heart is broken.”

  “Well, that happens sometimes.”

  “It sucks, Emilio. It sucks a lot.”

  “I know. Like I said, there aren’t any guarantees. But that’s not why we follow our hearts.”

  Sara curled up in her corner of the couch, wrapping her arms around her middle as though she could hold herself together that way. “Why do we, then?”

  “Because it’s an act of love. An act of courage. An act of faith. And in this crazy, mixed up, miserable world, our love and faith and courage are all we’ve got.”

  Sara sighed. “When you talk like that, you know I can’t disagree with you.”

  “I know. That’s why I don’t bring out the big guns very often.” He glanced at his watch. “Are you going to be okay if I leave? I’ve got a date.”

  “Sid?”

  “Yep.”

  “He’s going to break your heart.”

  “I hope not. But if he does, I’ll be okay. I’ve got a best friend who’ll be there for me.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes. “Bet your ass I will.”

  * * *

  After Emilio was gone, Sara let herself cry again. She’d had some gin, and she figured she was entitled to be a little maudlin, like a character at a bar in a Tom Waits song. But after a while she stopped crying, took a deep breath, and went into the bathroom to splash off her face.

  She wasn’t going to give up. She’d wait a little while and then reach out to him. Once they’d had some time to cool down, maybe they could…

  No. If Nick wasn’t capable of trusting her, how could they ever—

  There was a knock on her door. She didn’t really feel like seeing anyone right now, but—

  She looked through the peephole and froze.

  It was Nick.

  He looked tired, like maybe he hadn’t slept any better last night than she had. He also looked resolute, like he was willing to stand there all night if he had to.

  She opened the door, grabbed him by the front of his shirt, and kissed him.

  By the time they came up for air he had her up against the wall.

  “Bedroom,” she gasped, but Nick pulled back and took a deep breath.

  “No. Wait.”

  “Are you kidding?”

  “Yeah, I’m pretty shocked, too. But I’ve got some stuff I need to say. And what the hell are you doing kissing me, anyway?”

  He braced his forearm on the wall behind her, leaned in close, and ran the tip of his index finger down her nose. With his pupils dilated his blue eyes looked navy, and there was a hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth.

  “You didn’t want me to kiss you?” she asked breathlessly.

  “I haven’t thought about anything else for hours. But I thought I’d have to beg you to let me in first, so I could make my case.”

  “You have a case to make?”

  “I do, yeah. After I apologize for being a horse’s ass.”

  “Okay. But between your apology and your case, I need to say something.”

  She took a deep breath. “After Kevin talked to me that night…it’s not that he made me feel sorry for you. I promise that’s not it. But I started thinking about our future, and how hard I’ve fallen for you, and how much I want to be with you. And that’s why I wanted to move to Washington.”

  She took another breath. “But I want to choreograph for Miles, too. I’m scared to death that Impossible Things was a fluke and I’ll never be able to do it again, but I want to try. And if I don’t, you’re right—I might end up resenting you, in spite of all my good intentions. So it’s complicated. A lot more complicated than I let myself believe. But that doesn’t mean we can’t be together. That’s the most important thing to me. Why can’t we try long distance? I’ll stay here for a year, and…”

  “Sara.”

  “Was I babbling?”

  “No. I just thought it was time for me to say something.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m willing to try long distance, and I think it could work for a while. But eventually, if we’re going to be together, one of us has to make a big change.”

  “I agree. And I want to be that person, but I don’t want to—”

  “I’m asking you to let it be me.”

  She blinked. “What?”

  “I want to stay in New York.”

  “But…” She shook her head. “No. That’s crazy. How can you work on Paxton’s campaign if—”

  “I’m not going to work on his campaign. I declined the job.”

  “But…if you…” She stopped. “Are you saying…are you going back to work for Keisha?”

  “No. Well…I might in four years.”

  “What happens in four years?”

  “She could run for governor. I think she’d be great. But she doesn’t really need me right now.”

  “Oh.” Her head was spinning, and she tried to think logically. “What are you going to do in the meantime?”

  “I’m going to work for David Gardner.”

  She stared at him. “The TV show? On Saturday mornings?”

  “That’s right. I’ll be working with a producer, but I negotiated a lot of control over content. It’s not a huge platform, but—”

  “You’ll be incredible. You’ll inspire people. My God, Nick, you got me to vote.”

  “It wasn’t that hard. You had a crush on me.”

  She couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “Well. Maybe. But, Nick, what about the Paxton campaign? Why don’t you want to work for him anymore?”

  “I don’t like him, and I don’t respect him.”

  “Those seem like good reasons. But they didn’t stop you before.”

  “No, but they should have. It’s so damn easy to spend your time on things that aren’t important, and ignore the things that are. I never want to do that again.”

  “I know what you mean,” she said softly. “But, Nick…Kevin said you were gone. He said you took the train back to Washington.”

  “I did.�


  “And you came back?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What happened between here and there?”

  He pulled a folded program out of his pocket and handed it to her. “I read this.”

  She glanced down at it and back up at him. “My program?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I thought…didn’t you read it at the audition?”

  “No. I read it on the train. And it made me wonder about something.”

  “What?”

  “How come Emilio didn’t hurt himself? That staircase on stage was pretty tall, and when he jumped…how come he didn’t hurt himself when he landed?”

  “There were mats behind the staircase, where the audience couldn’t see them.”

  “It still took a lot of guts for him to make a leap like that.”

  She put her arms around his waist and smiled at him. “This is a metaphor, right? Are you going to make a speech now? I’m learning to recognize the signs.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “Smart alec. Just for that, I’m not making the speech after all.”

  “Was it going to be about love?”

  “Hell, yes. And it was going to be beautiful. It was going to bring you to your knees.”

  “Were you going to talk about faith?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “And courage?”

  “Just enough courage.”

  She frowned, trying to remember where she’d heard that before.

  “You said that,” he told her, brushing her hair away from her face. “At the club that night with Claire. You told her that before you go on stage, you ask God for enough courage to get through the night. My brother talks like that, too. He talks about having enough courage to get through one minute, one hour, one day.”

  He took both her hands in his. “I am messed up when it comes to relationships. I do have crap to deal with. But I realized on the train, reading what you wrote, that I don’t have to overcome all of that at once. I just need to be brave enough for this moment.”

  He looked into her eyes. “I’m crazy in love with you, Sara. The only thing I can’t face is losing you. Can you forgive me for being a jackass?”

  “Yes.”

  He took a deep breath. “That’s good enough for today.”

  “More than good enough,” she said softly. “Now make the speech.”

  “My love is like a red, red rose—”

  “Or you could take me to bed.”

  He broke into a grin. “Is that seriously one of my options? I can’t imagine how I’ll choose.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Okay.”

  He scooped her up so suddenly she clutched at his arms and gasped.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. It just…felt like I was falling.”

  His arms tightened around her. “I’m sorry. Did I scare you?”

  “No.” She smiled up at him as he carried her to the bedroom. “It turns out that falling isn’t so bad.”

  He bent his head to kiss her. “I guess it depends.”

  “On what?”

  “On who’s around when you do.”

  About the Author

  Abigail Strom started writing stories at the age of seven and has never been able to stop. She lives in New England with her family, who are incredibly supportive of the hours she spends hunched over her computer. You can visit her website at abigailstrom.com or email her at abigail@abigailstrom.com. She loves to hear from readers.

  Books by Abigail Strom

  The Landry Family

  (the books are listed chronologically, but the series can be read out of order)

  The Millionaire’s Wish

  Cross My Heart

  Waiting for You

  Into Your Arms

  Also by Abigail Strom

  Winning the Right Brother

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

 

 

 


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