I choke out a laugh, “I don’t know if that’s an apology or an insult. You don’t know why you did it?”

“You know what I mean. I don’t know that there’s a man on this earth that wouldn’t want to kiss you. But I want you to know that I hadn’t planned it. It was just… a moment, and I don’t want it to change things for us.”

“Everything changes, Torr.” I look out to the rolling waves and chew on my lip.

“You wanna tell me about it?”

“The reality is …” I turn to him and he’s watching me attentively with such compassion in his eyes. “I don’t think I’ll ever get over him. I love him as much now as I did before. It doesn’t get easier.”

“You just said yourself that everything changes.” He smiles gently.

“Yeah,” I nod. “I thought this would. But it hasn’t yet.”

“You just need to give it more time.”

“I ran away to the other side of the world with the hope that I could move on and find myself,” I grumble with frustration. What was I expecting? That it would all be okay the minute I landed in England? That all the hurt and pain would go away just because I’m in another country?

“You’re brave,” he muses, looking out at the inky black sea and the moonlight bouncing off the ripples in the water. “I don’t think I could have done that. Look, firebird, you’re young, gorgeous and sassy. I have no doubt that you could do anything if you set your mind to it. I don’t know what happened to you back in Vegas to make you want to run halfway around the world, and if that guy hurt you, then you’re better off away from him. The world is at your feet.”

“He didn’t hurt me. Not how you think, anyway. It’s complicated,” I sigh. “He didn’t think he had a choice.”

He turns to look at me. “And you told him that he did have a choice?”

“Yeah. I tried to,” I whisper.

“Well, you know what they say about setting things free.”

I nod and bring my knees up to my chest, resting my cup on top of them and staring into the distance.

“C’mere.” He shuffles closer and puts his arm around my shoulder, pulling me in tight. “It’ll all come right in the end. If it’s not right, it’s not the end.”

I turn my head and narrow my eyes at his philosophical statement. “Did you just quote someone far more romantic than you?”

He winks before kissing me softly on my temple, a friendly kiss without intention, and I think we just went back to being just friends.

Chapter 15

It’s been nearly a week since I called Lottie, and her voice has played around and around in my head like a beautiful torture. It’s bounced back and forth, playing a melody with my conscience and I’ve come to a huge decision.

I want her back.

I miss her, I love her, and I want her in my life, not on the other side of the world in England.

I know why I pushed her away. I know why I set her free. But the reality is, I’m miserable without her. From the minute I set eyes on her, I knew she was special and that has never changed. I’ve gone back and forth asking myself if I’m being selfish for wanting her back, for tying her to me when I can’t be everything I want to be for her, but if what Arianna and Denham says is anything to go by, Lottie feels the same way about me. Even after I was such a selfish bastard and broke her heart. But I’m going to mend it then never let it go. That’s if I’m not too late.

“Hey bro. You ready to go?” Denham asks from the doorway.

“Can you give me ten minutes? I need to make a phone call before we leave.”

“Can’t it wait?” he asks impatiently. “It’s not like you haven’t had all morning and you know what the traffic is like this time of day, your therapy session is at two.”

“D,” I chuckle. “We have enough time to drive there, twice.”

He is, and always has been Mr. Punctuality, which means getting everywhere half an hour before necessary. If you ask me, that’s a very boring way to spend too many hours. Who wants to spend time waiting around, when you can be doing something, making things happen?

“You won’t be joking when we are sitting in the heat, late for your therapy,” he grumbles. “Ten minutes. Then I’m wheeling you out whether you like it or not.” He points at me trying to be all serious, the smirk on his face gives him away.

He leaves and closes the door quietly behind him. Now I feel nervous.

Last time I called her it was spontaneous. This time I’ve planned it. And I’m so nervous that I want to be sick. I’ve been working things out in my head for days and imagining how this conversation would go. If she was still in Vegas, I’d find her, pull her down in to my lap, wrap my arms around her and I’d tell her how I feel with a kiss that she’d never forget. But I can’t do that. And I need her to know how I feel. Now.

I hit ‘call’ on my cell. It must be early evening in England, and I wonder if maybe I’m interrupting her, maybe she’s at dinner, perhaps with someone, a man …

“Hello?” she answers and her smooth, familiar voice calls to my heart from across the ocean.

That familiarity, that feeling of comfort, and home, and love, it solidifies everything that I’ve finally come around to realizing over the last few days.

“Lottie,” I breathe out, closing my eyes at the sound of her voice.

“Spike.” She sounds surprised. “Hi. Is everything okay?”

“Am I interrupting anything? Do you have a few minutes to talk?”

“Sure,” she answers.

I hear gulls cry in the background. “Where are you?”

“I’m actually sitting on the beach.”

“Oh. Isn’t it dark there by now?” I don’t like the idea of her sitting on a beach alone, maybe vulnerable, but I also shiver at the thought of her being with someone.

“Yeah, pretty much. There are plenty of streetlights up on the walkway, but it’s still gorgeous though,” she muses, and I try to picture what she can see.

“You always liked to be near the sea. Do you remember that time we drove all the way to the San Fran coast? It took hours to get there and we arrived just in time for the sun to set. We always said we’d go back for a sunrise, but never did.”

She laughs under her breath, “Yes, I remember that.”

Happy times. Very happy times.

“I miss you, Lottie,” I tell her.

“Spike …”

“I do. I miss you so fucking much and I know I was a bastard to you and I don’t deserve for you to even speak to me, but I need you to know that it’s not the same here without you. I miss you. Vegas misses you.”

The silence stretches between us and I glance across the Las Vegas skyline, brilliant stark sunlight, the opposite to England where Lottie is sitting on a dark, probably cold beach. “Are you still there?” I say quietly.

“Yes,” she whispers. “I don’t know what you want me to say to you, Spike.”

“Nothing, Lotts. I don’t expect you to say anything. I just wanted you to know that wherever you are in the world, whether it’s the under the sun or the stars, we will always see the same sky. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness and I acted like a selfish idiot. But I’m fighting to be positive. I’m fighting for the will to live and you’re there at the forefront of my inspiration.” She is quiet again and I wish she would give me some indication of what she’s feeling right now. I hear her sigh and take a jittery breath. “Lotts, are you okay?”

“I have to go, Spike. I’m sorry. I …I have to go,” she says hurriedly with tension straining her voice.

She ends the call. Leaving me with even more of a hole in my heart, but at least she knows I still care about her. I more than care about her. She’s my heartbeat.

I want her back in my life. I’ll take her any way I can get her, even if it means we are just friends. If it takes until my last breath to prove to her what she means to me, then that’s what I’m willing to do.