Page 92 of Finding Our Reality

We spent the days calling and texting. She didn’t have much free time between the trial and meetings, but I eagerly took every second I could get.

She actually got back in town yesterday afternoon. I had every intention of seeing her last night after work, but her body had other plans. After she didn’t return my phone calls or texts, I called Holt. He told me she unpacked and was asleep by fourp.m. She hates sleeping in a hotel room—never actually sleeps well—and was exhausted.

Now, I would give nothing more than to call in sick and spend the entire day making Lulu come all over my face. But…alas, it’s our interview day with Caleb.

So, instead, I’ll have to settle for a three-hour drive to Atlanta.

I knock on the door, impatiently waiting for her to answer. The second she swings it open, my voice catches in my throat.

I made it nearly twelve whole years without seeing her. Sure, they were miserable years in many ways, but I still made it. Now, here it is, just twelve days and I feel like falling to my knees and begging her to never leave me again. Not even for one minute.

Her smile is happy. Genuine. Perfect.

Not able to stand it for one more second, I sweep her into my arms and cover her mouth with mine. Her lips part and her tongue darts out to taste me. Her fingertips trail up my forearms, tickling my skin.

“Ahem.” Holt clears his throat. Loudly.

Laughing, I pull my face away from Lulu’s. Not ready to let go of her just yet, I possessively hold her hip. “Sorry, man, didn’t see you.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Holt holds up a carton of orange juice from his perch at the kitchen counter. “Want something?”

“No, I’m good.”

Lulu blushes. She tries not to, but she can’t help it. “Let me pack my work bag, and we can head out.”

Holt watches in amusement as Lulu tosses her laptop and notebook into her bag. “So, it’s safe to assume you two don’t hate each other anymore?”

“Holt!” Lulu throws an ink pen at him.

He easily dodges it. “What? It’s a valid question.”

I lean across the counter, grabbing a grape from his breakfast plate and popping it in my mouth. “Well, if this ishate, I’m damn excited to see whatlikebrings to the table.”

“Ry!”

***

We’re walking through the parking deck, heading toward the lobby, at the downtown building where Caleb’s office is, when Lulu’s question catches me off guard.

“I never did ask you what happened to my clothes.”

“Huh?”

“At your house? My clothes were wet. And I woke up in your T-shirt, wearing my bra and panties. Did you undress me?”

“I did. But really, I had no choice.”

“What do you mean?”

I chuckle, running my hand through my hair. “Well, you kind of threw up on yourself.”

Lulu freezes mid-stride and her jaw falls open. “What? Are you kidding me? Please say you’re joking.”

She’s horrified.

I try not to laugh. “Sorry. Not joking.”

“Where did I throw up?”

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