Page 58 of Finding London

Here I stand, on the corner of Independence and Desire. The problem is that Desire is littered with lots of trash that I call desperation while Independence is covered in regret.So, the million-dollar question is, is it better to risk falling to desperation to cure this immense ache of desire, or should I hold my head high on my lonely walk to independence?

For me, at least with Loïc, there is no question.

So, now, I need to come up with a plan to get him back.

Yeah, that’s a problem.

I sigh before plopping onto my bed, TV remote control in hand.

I’ve tried with Loïc. I’ve pulled out all of my charms. None of it worked on him because his mind was already closed off. I need to do somethingmore. I just haven’t figured out what.

Granted, bingeing on Netflix for a week straight didn’t allow for much time to plan for my Loïc domination.

Paige is out with a guy, so I planned on using tonight to craft my ingenious plan, but I can’t find the motivation. Perhaps, after a few episodes of a new guilty-pleasure show, an idea will come to me.

The doorbell rings, and I freeze. My mouth goes dry, and I swallow. I slowly sit up, throwing my legs over the side of my bed. My chest feels light, and I focus on my breathing.

It might not even be him. Calm down.

It has to be him, right?

Who else would it be?

I step into the hallway and hesitantly make my way toward the front door. The bell rings again, startling me, and I jump. At this point, I notice my wounded-heart ensemble—a thin tank top, short yoga shorts, no makeup, and my long hair thrown on top of my head in a messy bun. It could be worse. I actually showered today, so at least I don’t stink.

Oh, well. I don’t have time to glam it up at this point. It is what it is. Take me or leave me.

Wait, I didn’t mean it. Please don’t leave me.

My sweaty palm grasps the door handle, and I pull it open. My knees go weak, and I know that’s cliché, butgorgeousdoesn’t begin to describe the man before me.

Oh, what he does to me…

He’s here, and he’s smiling. It’s a cautious grin, but it’s something. In his hands, he’s holding a huge basket with an adorable pink ribbon wrapped around it. Inside the basket, among purple paper confetti, is bag upon bag of gummy candy. My eyes do a quick scan, and I see a variety of gummy goodness from worms to sour to original bears. I can’t contain the wide smile that comes to my face.

“What’s this?” I motion toward the basket.

“A peace offering. I was hoping to soften you up with a little sugar, so I could plead my case.” The rich timbre of his voice never fails to still my heart.

“Your case?” I manage to keep my voice steady. I wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear the rapid beating of my heart.

“Yeah, I was hoping I could take you out and kind of explain some stuff, maybe talk you into giving me…usanother chance.” He releases one of his hands from the basket and rubs the back of his neck. His beautiful blues dart from my lips to my eyes before peering toward the ground.

“I don’t want to go out,” I say.

Loïc’s eyes pierce mine. A deep sadness resides behind them, and it makes my chest ache.

“But we can hang out here,” I offer.

His expression is one of confusion. I know this groveling-at-my-door scenario that’s going on is new and probably difficult for him.

I give him a comforting smile. “Come inside. We have the whole place to ourselves. You can plead your case here. You can even wait until I’m in a major sugar coma to do so, if you want,” I say with a quirked eyebrow.

A slow smile forms on his lips, lighting up his eyes. I step back, and he enters. I close the door behind him, and he places the basket on the table in the foyer. He turns toward me, and before I know it, he pulls me into his chest, engulfing me in a hug.

My arms wrap around him, tightly hugging him. The tension rolls off my body, and I want to cry from the mere relief of having him this close to me.

He bends his head toward mine, nuzzling his face into my hair. “God, I’ve missed you,” he groans, his voice so husky and needy.

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