Page 1 of Moonlit Temptation

The London Bridge mocked me.

Winked at me with its lights that were starting to come to life.

It didn’t feel real. It didn’t feel right.

The mascara and eyeliner I slapped onto my eyes in a dimly lit airport bathroom now slid down my face in big, black goopy tears.

I wasn’t crying, but I spent the last eight hours on a flight wanting to.

Rain pelted my skin, soaked into my clothes and flooded my scuffed up combat boots. People around me ran for cover, but I was rendered immobile.

Of course it would rain when I went out to explore the city. And of course I wouldn’t have my raincoat with me. I was in nothing but my travel clothes. Skintight black leggings with a hole above the knee and an oversized hoodie that weighed down my slim frame with how soaked it was becoming.

Today had been hell. And not because of the rain. Every droplet on my skin reminded me that while this didn’t feel real, it was.

I’m here.

If only it had been an easier journey.

The flight to London was the most turbulence-ridden flight of my life. The plane dropped ten-thousand feet in the air and the oxygen masks fell from their hideaway. I was gripping the armrests so tight, I still felt the indentions in my palms as I flexed them at my sides.

Not only did I believe I was going to die in a plane crash somewhere over the Atlantic, but by the time we safely landed and I made it to baggage claim, I found out the plane lost my luggage.

My entire suitcase, which belonged to my mother, was gone. They said they’d try to retrieve it, but how often did that happen?

I wasn’t going to hold my breath.

I was more sad about the suitcase than the items lost inside, although I did have a little freak-out over losing my skateboard I packed. I had a few others back home in Georgia, but now my idea of skating around the guards of Buckingham Palace to try and get a reaction out of them was thwarted.

The only bright side to that situation was that I was an over-packer by nature, so in the last few minutes of packing haste, I shoved a few articles of clothing that pushed the allotted weight limit for checked baggage into my backpack.

I had no idea what the items in said bag were. For all I knew, it was just bras and panties, which would make this trip very interesting if the outfit I was wearing wasn’t dry by morning.

I was going to be here for a week, but it felt like London was trying to send me back home before I even landed.

Tipping my head back, I drank in the rain that fell into my mouth, hoping it would help wash away the dry, bitter anger that had been sitting on my tongue since I arrived at the airport early this morning.

I could handle a turbulent flight. I could handle losing my luggage. In fact, hours later, I wanted to laugh at the situation. I’d been dreaming of London for years as this magical place and my journey here was anything but.

What I couldn’t laugh at, though, was my brother, who surprised me with this trip as a graduation present, deciding to ditch me last minute.

God, even just thinking about it made me want to scream into the rain.

So I did. Screaming so loud it felt like my throat was splitting.

It didn’t make me feel any better as I remembered how I found out.

With minutes to spare this morning, I made it to my boarding gate, thanks to my prone tardiness and the Seventh Circle of Hell known as the Atlanta Airport security.

I was a flustered, sweaty mess of dirty honey hair that clung to my scalp in unattractive patches, looking into the crowd of excited and zoned out people for my brother.

Archer, unlike me, was always punctual and impossible to miss with his six-three frame, blonde hair that stuck up like wheat fields and blue eyes that held a dormant hurricane; my brother had this aura around him that people tended to notice.

But either he was invisible or not here. Both options sent a wave of discomfort through me.

Where was he, where was he, where was he?

I started leaning toward him being invisible until my phone went off with a text message from him—a text message!—that said he was sorry and wasn’t going to make it.

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