Page 24 of Finding London

I’m still laughing at my obnoxious best friend when the door swings wide, and I’m met with Loïc’s beautiful blues. The intensity in them is so pure, so focused, that I feel my stomach begin to churn, and I can’t remember for the life of me what I was laughing at a mere two seconds prior. The entire world around me has faded to black, and it’s just Loïc standing before me in his spotlight of godliness.

I’m a goner.

“London.” Loïc’s voice is deep and, if I’m hearing it correctly, nervous.

“Loïc.”

Our stuffy greetings feel out of place, but at the same time, it’s so…us. None of our exchanges have been typical or followed the usual script of how two normal young twenty-somethings get to know each other. Yet it doesn’t bother me. I think that’s why I was so drawn to him in the first place.

None of the guys I’ve dated in the past compare to him. He is in his own category of intrigue. He belongs to his own club where he is the only member, and I desperately want to be the one who’s allowed access.

Loïc runs his hands down his jeans and clears his throat.

He’s really nervous.It’s just so…adorable. Bad-boy Army guy, who has probably killed someone with his bare hands—okay, I don’t know that; I’m just making assumptions—is scared out of his mind to go on a date with me. It’s written all over his face. The contradiction between his usual hard-ass demeanor and this obviously timid man standing before me is so endearing. I can’t put into words why I find him so fascinating, but, man, I do. He’s trying to put on a show of nonchalance, but in this moment, I can read him like a book, and he’s scared.

I take a step toward him, closing the front door behind me. Our upper bodies are a breath away. One more step, and I’m sure I could feel his heart hammering in his chest.

I grab on to his arms hanging at his sides. “Tell me the truth. How close were you to canceling our date?”

His face breaks into an amused smile. “Pretty damn close.”

“I thought so.” I grin up to him.

I’ve never met anyone like Loïc before, but he’s still a guy, and I’m not ashamed to use the skills I’ve been given.

“I want to tell you something.” Releasing his arms, I place my palms on his cheeks, cradling his face. I stand on my tiptoes and pull his face down to meet mine. Our mouths are close enough that I can feel Loïc’s warm breaths on my lips. “I’m glad you didn’t,” I whisper before I push my mouth onto his.

Loïc’s body stiffens for a fraction of a second before it melds into mine. His hands wrap around my waist, sprawling across my back and pulling my body closer to his. A groan comes from deep within his throat as his initially tentative lips begin to move with increased fervor. His lips, so perfect in their execution, ignite my entire body with a hum of satisfaction.

I have to hold back tears as our kiss continues. I feel like crying, which doesn’t make sense, but each feeling within me is on high alert. His lips, our connection, bring every last one to the surface. I’m inundated with dueling emotions—happiness because this is happening, but sadness because I don’t know if it will happen again. Desire pounds loudly through my veins, but along with it is fear. For all the highs I’m experiencing comes equally impactful lows because, though I barely know Loïc, I know he’s broken. It’s too soon, and I can’t explain how I know, but I simply feel it down to my bones that, if this doesn’t work out, if I don’t get to keep Loïc, I will be left broken, too.

Eventually, Loïc pulls his lips away. He leans his forehead down and rests it against mine. Our chests expand against one another with each deep breath we take as we work to calm our bodies and settle our minds.

Loïc’s gravelly deep voice breaks the melody of our entangled breaths. “I’m fucked. We’re both fucked. You know that, right?”

Startled, I take a small step back. When our gazes connect, his eyes darken. A myriad of emotions flashes through them, but I know he won’t share them with me. It doesn’t matter because I see them anyway, and what I see is enough.

I take a deep breath and grin. “Well, you know what they say. Better to have fucked and lost than never to have fucked at all.”

His frown morphs into a devastatingly gorgeous smile that leaves my knees weak. “Who says that?”

I shrug. “Not sure, but they sound very wise.”

He chuckles. “It’s not too late to back out. You can go back inside and forget all about me.”

I shake my head. “Not gonna happen.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

“All right, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He takes my hand in his, and we walk toward his truck that is parked on the street.

I’m giddy that he’s holding my hand and of his own accord. I feel like the nerdy girl in school who is finally getting the quarterback’s attention. It’s a strange place for me to be. I’ve never been that girl. I’ve always been the hot cheerleader whom the quarterback would beg to date. But, with Loïc, I feel lucky that he’s chosen me. He’s a prize, and I won him—or at least, I’m on my way to victory, and there’s nothing else more important to me right now.

“You know,” he says, “I’ve never met anyone like you, London Wright.”

“Is that a good thing?”

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