Page 69 of An Unexpected Kind of Love

What a strange, powerful realization. Against all odds.

And it’s totally impossible, because he’s going to leave, and yet he sings to me like I’m the only audience he cares about.

And it hits me that he’s not singingtome—he’s singingforme. Like a promise.

Then, I’m shaking, and when he’s done, he puts the guitar down, comes over, and draws me into his arms while I hide my face in his shoulder. He smooths my hair and kisses me, and people applaud. I barely hear them, blanking on our audience because it’s only Blake that matters as I lean into the comfort of his body.

“You’re making ascene,” I gasp inelegantly as he holds me and gives me a deep, lingering kiss that melts my knees, and who needs legs anyway? Overrated. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“I want you to know I’m awed by you,” Blake murmurs. “You’re someone I’m lucky to know.”

And that does it. I tremble as he holds me tight, whispering things in my ear that only I can hear, and how can I be so unraveled, so quickly, by such a man?

“Why’re you doing this, when you’re leaving so soon?” I whisper. “It’s only going to make things a lot harder when you have to go home for good.”

“Because you matter so much to me, don’t you see?” Blake’s lips are against my ear. His hands are comforting in the small of my back, tracing my skin under my T-shirt.

“I think I’m getting the idea.”

At last we straighten. I wipe my eyes on the cuff of my hoodie.

“L.A.’s only temporary.”

I take a shuddering breath, straightening at last. L.A. may be temporary, but when he finishes filming for good, he’ll be gone forever.

Is there some impossible way to make this work, despite everything?

Blake’s grin is huge. “C’mon. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

I grab him, kiss him something fierce. And there’s more thundering applause and whistles before we get away at last, laughing hand in hand.

Chapter Seventeen

In the late afternoon, the heat’s still on in central London.

At the moment, I don’t care, because I’m with Blake and we’re kissing like teenaged fools in front of the British Library. Kissing in proximity to a copyright library can only be a good omen, right?

Out here, everyone looks a touch sunburned or sun-flushed. Traffic’s snarled; honks and shouts are a familiar backdrop on the Euston Road. Buses steadily navigate up and down the street. The exhaust fumes from the vehicles catches at the back of my throat. As we walk, we pause occasionally under the shade of a tree, or duck against a building for respite from the sun.

Suddenly, Blake turns to look at me with worry.

“You need a hat?”

I laugh. Of all the things I thought he might say at that moment, that was not amongst them. “A hat?”

“I don’t want you to burn. You’re so pale, you’re just gonna burn, right?” Blake frets. He’s irresistible at the best of times, but even more so when he’s worried about me. He digs into his gray backpack, pulling out a navy-blue ball cap with some symbol of American sports ball that I fail to recognize because I know nothing about sports ball in any country, and I know even less about American sports ball than the average person.

He plonks the hat on my head, looking pleased. “There.”

“Am I a dress-up doll now?” I tug on the brim of the hat. God knows what sort of fashion statement this makes, but the shade is welcome.

“Don’t give me ideas,” he teases, and I swat at him good-naturedly.

“Cheers. I think.” I make a face at him, but it does feel a bit cooler now. “Maybe I should put on sun cream.”

“Probably a good idea,” he agrees.

“The north clearly has its own weather system.” Hard to believe only a few hours ago we had overcast skies, and that we were in the woods. I already miss it, our private escape into nature and mountains.

---