Page 69 of Worlds Collide

“Si,” I tell her with a sad smile. “I will be back soon, though,” I promise her. I don’t know how I could ever make that happen with the way my schedule will be for the next three and a half years, but I need to claim this house back as my own too. The only way to erase every memory I made with Wolf here is to make new ones. So that’s what I’m going to do.

I finda direct flight from Milan to New York that leaves me enough time to pack up all my stuff and to get there three hours before, so I book it and then get to work.

I realize the mess around the suitcases is from Wolf pulling stuff out of the closet to find everything that belonged to him. He took all the clothes I got him in Milan and that doesn’t enrage me for some reason when I thought it would’ve.

At least he’ll be well dressed while he’s out being an asshole.

I feel like it should be two days later when I land in JFK, but it’s the same day—only three in the afternoon instead of nine p.m.

I didn’t tell Adam or Carter that I’d be coming here. I figured I’d tell them the next day or week—depending on when I felt less like the biggest loser in the world. But when I climb out of the cab in front of my brownstone, I see that some lights are on inside.

After a quick bout of panic, I remember the house was full of art when I was last here, and Carter had agreed to sort everything out on that end for me.

In exchange I let him live here for free and keep an eye on the place.

Guess I’ll have to be pathetic in front of my friends after all.

“Carter?” I call out after I open the door with my phone.

“CJ?” I hear the confusion in his voice. Then he’s walking out of the kitchen and into the foyer where I lean against the wall, my suitcases in front of me. “You look like crap, mate,” he tells me helpfully.

“Yeah,” I say while I do my best to smile.

“What happened?” he asks, clearly worried now.

“I fell in love with him,” I say automatically and realize it’s the first time I’ve ever even let myself think that word in correlation to Wolf.

“Who?” He looks even more worried now as he walks over to me and takes a good hold of my shoulders.

“Wolf,” I whisper. “I fell in love with him and he left me.Again,” the last word comes out in a whine. I won’t cry, dammit. I won’t let myself cry over this. I’ve been through worse things and just breathed through it.

Carter is silent for a long moment and then he squares his shoulders like he’s ready for battle. “So he’s going to die,” he says like it’s a foregone conclusion.

I can’t help but snort even though it is a pretty sad and pathetic snort—like me.

“No he won’t.” At least I hope not. “I just have to?—”

“Call Adam and have him hire a contract killer,” Carter interrupts. “Oh, wait, you’re richer now. You hire someone.”

“Stop,” I beg, though it’s with a chuckle mixed in there. “I’m not having Wolf killed. What part of ‘I love him’ do you not get?” I let out a big breath and move around him to go into the kitchen.

Like all the other properties, my mother had the brownstone renovated not too long ago, so it’s as modern and useful as possible. Not for her though, never for her, since she almostalways travels with a housekeeper and a butler—god, she’s such a snob.

I get a glass of water and then go to the living room. Carter follows me around and looks at me like he doesn’t quite know what to do. I don’t blame him. I’ve never told him I’m in love with anyone because I’ve never been in love.

How do I know I’m in love with Wolf? Well, it’s simple.

I imagined my whole life with him, and I felt like someone ripped out my right arm when I found out he left.

Our week in Italy changed everything for me. Before that, I could still kid myself into thinking I was just enjoying having sex with a man. But I got to know how funny he is, how much he cares about Rich being comfortable and getting enough sleep, and I found out he loves Star Wars—which is one of my obsessions.

I don’t know how, but I’m going to have to rethink everything about the rest of my life again. Reimagine it all.

“I’m calling Adam,” Carter declares suddenly. “I have no idea what to do here, mate, and I don’t think getting you pissed is going to solve anything.”

It takes me a second to realize he’s not talking about me being angry but about getting me drunk.

“Why not?” I’m so confused.

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