Page 6 of David's Love

What kind of fucking guests?

Her message is short and has no details, and I don’t have time to respond to her when I hear Gavin talk again.

“I don’t know,” he says. “A writer?”

Oh, fuck. Gavin may be clueless, but James is not.

He never has been.

I have no idea what James says, but Gavin laughs, moving his focus away from me and allowing me to read Elizabeth’s words again.

Our plans for the evening have just been canceled without much explanation.

I’m surethere is an explanation, and whoever stepped into her house must be close to her and is not supposed to know about us.

No one knows about us, and now more than ever, I want to keep it that way.

I shove my phone back into my pocket.

“Yeah, the place crawls with writers,” Gavin says, amused, confirming one more time that keeping it a secret is the right thing to do.

I flash a grin when he looks at me like he has just delivered a great joke.

“Tell James I’ll call him later,” I say.

Holding my gaze, he speaks.

“You heard the man,” Gavin says before wrapping it up with James.

Moments later, we walk back into the dining room as if nothing happened.

2

DAVID

I pushthrough the door of my hotel suite, my hand already on my tie knot, loosening it.

The window is cracked open––I left it that way––and it’s cold inside the room.

A long breath rolls into my lungs.

I couldn’t wait to get back.

Softly rustling, my jacket slides off my frame, and I almost drop it on the chair before draping it over my shoulders. I toss my tie on the chair and spin to the bar.

I need a drink.

My attention has been scattered the entire evening.

Despite actively participating in the business–centered conversations, I couldn’t not think about her.

The bourbon rolls over the ice cubes in the short, plump glass when I reach inside my pocket and pull out my phone.

It rings before I have the chance to call her.

I tap the screen, grab the glass, and move to the armchair. The piece of furniture faces the window, allowing me to spoil myself with the view of the city's tall, lit architectural marvels.

“James. What a nice surprise,” I say softly before taking a swig of hard liquor.

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