Page 142 of The Life-Changing Magic of Falling in Love

‘Doesn’t matter?’

‘You’re going back to?—’

‘I’m coming back.’

The rain is coming down thick and fast, bouncing off the grass and soaking everything in sight.

‘Ashleigh, look at me.’

‘I can’t, it’s raining too hard.’

‘One week from tomorrow I will be back here hardly able to wait to spend time with you. You can trust in that.’

‘No one can ever be one hundred per cent sure about anything. Some things are outside a person’s control. What if?—’

‘Forget what ifs. I’m not walking away from this because it feels like it might get complicated. How could I when being around you feels like the easiest thing in the world?’

‘I—’

‘Maybe this will convince you.’ My hands move up to cradle her face, and her eyes go wide in surprise. She is easily the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. ‘Do you know you have raindrops clinging to your lips?’ My last clear thought is that she has me gushing like some bloody poet before I tilt her head, lean in, and at last, lay my lips over hers.

Instant heat.

Exploding fireworks that can’t be doused with any amount of rain.

I feel her arms wrap wildly around me, pulling me in close, closer and I love the franticness. Her need to get closer matches mine as my hands drive into her hair.

Our tongues touch, stroke, dance, and the litany of sensation fires off messages in all directions – the biggest of which, is that no one in their right mind ever would or ever could stop kissing Ashleigh Rivera once they’d started.

Chapter Forty-Three

I CAN SEE CLEARLY NOW THE RAIN HAS GONE

Ashleigh

‘All I saw was you…’

That’s what George said when I reminded him to add seeing the Statue of Liberty to his list of landmarks if his family asked.

His gruff admission, sliding into my ear in the early hours of this morning, still has the power to produce a delightful squirm as I sit in Oscars awaiting my promised First Day of Promotion Breakfast Muffin.

It wasn’t even a line. I mean, okay it’s totally a line, but coming from George, the way he said it – despite being over the phone and with a gazillion miles between us – had the same melting properties as if he’d been staring into my eyes at the time. Yeah. George’s romance-speak is off the chart written-about-in-books crazy-good. I feel another blush coming on and bring my magazine closer to cover my face.

In the forty-eight hours he’s been gone we’ve been messaging and calling like we’re exclusive. And, hello? Why aren’t I crazy-fearful that we’ve both entered this with open arms and open hearts?

I guess after that incredible kiss – correction – kisses – so many drugging, dazzling, cause-a-public-spectacle kisses – it’s easier to feel we’re at the beginning of something special.

Something not to be tainted or disrespected by What Ifs.

I grin to myself and concentrate on reading the next question in a quiz I’m doing when a loud ‘Ha!’ permeates and I look up to discover Carlos sitting opposite me.

Oops. Totally missed that the morning rush is over.

‘What?’ I ask when he continues to stare suspiciously before his hand suddenly snakes out to whip the magazine from my hands. ‘Hey.’ I reach over the table to try and get it back.

‘I knew it,’ he says, triumphantly separating Best Home magazine from the magazine I was actually reading. ‘I knew from your expression you couldn’t have been reading Best Home.’

‘What expression?’

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