Page 22 of The London Chance

He lifted our joined hands to his lips and kissed my knuckles. “Pause.”

“Me too,” I sniffed.

“Hey, don’t do that. We have a whole day and a whole night and—”

“I know.” I stared, unseeing, at the mother and daughter playing backgammon across the row. I didn’t meet his gaze until I trusted myself not to get emotional. “Are we meeting your friends tonight? Maxine mentioned it, and—”

“We don’t have to. They’ll understand.”

“No, it’s fine. One drink.”

Roman’s nostrils flared as he nodded. I wished I could read his thoughts right then. I would have given anything to know how to navigate the heartache I felt barreling my way.

I’d checked out of the hotel room last week and didn’t feel a smidge of guilt that the only time I’d slept in the bed was the afternoon siesta we took after we’d made love. Aka, the first time he’d let me top. It was a fabulous memory, but I preferred Roman’s deliciously ginormous bed with its soft sheets, fluffy duvet, and blackout blinds.

And him.

When we arrived back in London, I finished packing my suitcase and checked the bathroom for toiletries, taking one more last longing look around the space I’d called home for two and a half weeks.

I had an early flight and I’d insisted on hiring a driver to take me to Heathrow. Roman didn’t like my plan, but there was no fucking way I was doing a messy airport good-bye. I’d rather have a fun night with friends and sneak away to steal a few hours alone before real life started again.

* * *

Roman wasquiet in the cab and quiet at the pub too. He sat next to me, perched on a barstool at the high table in the corner, nursing a beer. I did most of the talking, but hey…I was in sales. I knew how to feign interest in a medley of topics on any given day. Tonight, it was harder than it should have been.

I chuckled at Maxine’s and Angie’s over-the-top stories about their coworkers and was genuinely interested in Tod’s progress on his commissioned sculpture and the new recipe Becca had perfected for a raspberry bar, but my heart was in knots. I had a hard time concentrating, so I smiled a lot and hoped for the best.

“It’s all about fresh ingredients,” she insisted. “Scott just about flipped his lid when he got the bill, but it’s worth it.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “Bushels of berries, Chance. Don’t bother with that recipe unless you have access to tons of fresh berries.”

“Of course, he bloody does. He lives in California. They have everything there,” Maxine chimed in. “I’ve been. I know what I’m on about.”

My smile slipped again. Yep…I lived in California.

Becca patted my hand. “I’ll send you the recipe as long as you promise not to use syrup substitutes. Ever.”

“I promise,” I choked out.

Angie frowned. “Don’t make me cry. You’ll be back in no time, won’t you?”

“Well, I hope—”

“Of course, he will,” Maxine intercepted, jumping to her feet. “But I think we should give him a proper send-off. Ang and I put us down for slot number one. They’ll be callin’ our names in…five, four, three, two…”

“Fellow lushes and crooners, it’s time to get this party started! First, we have Maxine, Angie, Becca, Scott, Tod, Roman, and Chance doing “Mama Mia.” You’re up, gang!”

Scott, Roman, and Tod immediately balked.

“We agreed to come for Chance, not to sing.”

“One song, boys,” Maxine pleaded, wrapping me in a one-armed hug.

Scott and Tod shared a look, then shrugged, and headed for the microphones with Angie and Becca. My heart grew in my chest, making it hard to swallow. And when Roman…my “I would rather be caught dead than at a pub that inexplicably hosted karaoke on a random weeknight” lover stood and followed his friends to the makeshift stage, I could barely see through the sheen of tears.

Maxine flashed a brilliant smile at me. “He’s crazy about you, you know. Head over heels, over the moon crazy. There’s no other explanation. Come on, love. One more for the road.”

Long story short, we butchered three ABBA classics, ordered a round of shots, then moved down the block to a “normal” pub per Tod’s request. I cozied up to Roman, laughing along to old stories about people I didn’t know, feeling more connected to these people and this man than I did to any part of my life at home besides David and my cat.