Page 45 of My Silver Fox Savior

“I don’t want you to go,” I whisper, my voice cracking. The tears flood from my eyes, flowing down my cheeks now. My vision blurs from the crying. It’s like two different versions of reality clash together. I see the younger version of Landon and now this one, and then the younger, past and present, clashing.

“Lily,” he says passionately, walking around the table and leaning down into a hug.

I stand up, meeting him halfway, pushing my face against his chest. When I was driving over here, I seriously thought I’d be able to hold my emotions inside. I thought I could go into work mode and switch them off, but that seems like a joke now.

Wrapping my arms around him, I dig my fingernails in, clutching onto him tightly. I can’t believe somebody so solid, so real and vital to me, impossibly significant, won’t be here anymore.

“Lily,” he whispers, stroking his hand through my hair. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

“Not for you,” I moan.

He kisses the tears from my cheek, cradling my face and brushing hair from my eyes. “Your life, though,” he goes on, smiling tragically. I can tell he’s just trying to brighten me up despite the pain he must be feeling. “We got to share this time, at least. If you leave here and decide you want nothing to do with me—this meal, last night, the restaurant—I’ll count myself lucky to have had that.”

I try to fight off the tears. I try to tell myself it could be one giant love bomb, but I can’t. I push myself against him again. He holds me for what feels like a long time, whispering that it’ll be okay over and over. He sounds desperate for me to understand, to believe.

“It would’ve been better if I’d left you alone,” he groans. “Then you’d have nothing to miss.”

“No,” I say passionately, his words jolting me from the sadness. “I feel the same. I’m happy we’ve shared what we have, and maybe we can share more. Maybe we can do this again, and you can give me a rundown of what happened?”

“Lily …”

“I know.” I squeeze onto his arms, feeling the solidness, the permanence. “I shouldn’t be asking this. I’m sending so many mixed signals. Iknowall that, but I can’t leave here thinking we’ll never see each other again.”

He brings his lips to mine in a searingly passionate kiss. I grip the back of his neck like I’m holding on for my life, and maybe I am, in some sense. I’m holding onto a version of romance I never thought I’d experience—myknight—and I don’t care how cheesy that is.

He grabs my hips, gently pushing me away as he leans back. “You drive me too wild, Lily. You know what you’re making me think, making me want …”

I almost reach out and start stroking the front of his pants, but then a bout of nerves grips me. With so much serious stuff going on, it’s frustrating even to be thinking about my virginity. But I can’t just suddenly become some sex goddess for him.

He reads me, taking another step back. “Your mom will probably wonder where you are.”

“Yeah,” I say, “but we’ll talk soon, right?”

He nods. “I can see you out.”

We don’t kiss again. I think he’s trying to be a gentleman. As I leave his apartment building, it’s as if I’m walking out of a dream. I came here determined to keep us separate, to walk that line between need and knowing we’re never going to work, but I didn’t walk it. I stumbled. Iwantedto stumble, and now I want to do it again.

Maybe there’s something wrong with me for not caring about the apple tree case, believing him so easily, or crying so fiercely for a man I should be able to let go.

Already, I’m waiting to hear from him. I was supposed to be content to let this case go, but I can’t.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

LANDON

After Lily leaves, I take a few minutes to calm myself down. I’ve never experienced that level of emotion before. When she was crying, it was like something was breaking apart inside of me. All I wanted was to make her better. All I wanted was to make it so she’d never have to cry again.

Pure delusion. I’m not going to be her “ever”anything. Months together, then what? Shatter her heart when I go?

I stalk into my bedroom and grab my gun and my digital camera. The camera is high-end. It was a gift from Dad the last time he was in the States. I’d made an offhand comment about being interested in photography. Dad took it to heart. I haven’t used the damn thing, which is points in the bad-son column, but it’ll come in handy now.

Dressing all in black, I know this is a moment the old Landon would snap to his senses. He’d feel like the world’s biggest ass as he looked at himself in the mirror, black hood pulled up, black jeans, black boots, with a gun at his back. He’d think,“What are you doing, jackass? Who do you think you are?”

Yet I don’t have any of those doubts or hesitations. I get in my car, ready to do whatever needs to be done. Driving to the outskirts of The Row, I go into a convenience store and grab a bottle of whiskey and a brown bag. Then I pull my goods up and start half stumbling, half walking through the neighborhood.

I’ve got the camera in my hoodie pocket, and the pistol is in a chest holster. It’s slightly less convenient, but I can hide it with my hoodie. I stumble to the apartments opposite The Bear, dropping down against a wall and sitting on the sidewalk. A block over, another drunk is wailing into the night.

I just sit here, occasionally taking a pretend sip from the bottle. I don’t care how long I have to wait. The Bear is quiet for the first hour, but then people begin to arrive, and the music starts. Nobody looks my way. I spot Damon and a few men I recognize from before. My hand twitches for the gun.

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