Page 55 of Loving London

“I love Evan, of course, but I’m his uncle, not his dad.”

The weight in my chest lessens. “Are you dating anyone?”

He shakes his head. “No, not since you.”

I pause, pulling in a long breath. I nervously search his eyes as I ask, “Do you still love me, Loïc?” My voice trembles, and my heartbeat quickens. My lips part to accommodate faster breaths.

He lifts his arm and gently pulls a strand of my hair between his fingers. “Every minute of every day.”

I press my quivering lips together, afraid to speak. I’ve hoped and prayed that this day would come, that I would hear Loïc tell me he loves me. Now that it has, I’m so overcome with emotions that I could just crumble.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he says, his deep timbre thick with love, desire, and need.

Before I can think straight, his full lips are crashing on mine, desperate and intense. My skewed equilibrium causes me to sway. I grip his back with my trembling hands, holding me upright. He ravishes my mouth with his.

Something innate takes over as a torrent of emotions fall down on me. I kiss him back with a fiery need.

Our lips collide. Our tongues dance. Our souls reconnect.

This is the greatest instant of my life.

Loïc’s hypnotic spell of a kiss mends my heart in a way that time never could. Nothing matters but this moment right now, today. This kiss communicates so much, but what I hear the most is the hope for tomorrow.

All I’ve ever wanted with Loïc is a future. I don’t care about yesterday. All I want is tomorrow and the day after that. And just maybe I’ll be gifted with enough tomorrows to last a lifetime.

I begrudgingly pull away from our kiss. “I realize that I have a major flaw.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” Loïc asks, his voice husky.

“My heart’s incapable of loving anyone but you,” I admit, a small smile forming.

Loïc pulls in a sharp breath before saying, “I’m flawed in the same way. My heart only beats for you, London Wright. No one else.”

And then his lips find mine once more.

Loïc

“I don’t know what I did to deserve her love, but I’m never going to deny myself again.”

—Loïc Berkeley

I sneak a peek over to London at the same time she takes her eyes off the road to glance at me. Our eyes meet briefly before she turns back to the road with a giggle.

“This is awkward, right?” she asks from the driver’s seat.

“A little,” I agree.

“But amazing, too?”

“Definitely.” I smile.

“When’s your return flight?”

“Tomorrow morning, eight o’clock.”

London sighs, “Uh, that sucks.”

“Yeah,” I agree.

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