Page 64 of An Unexpected Kind of Love

With a sigh, I nod. Of course he hasn’t told anyone about me. Why would he? “To be honest, I’m having a hard time believing any of this is real. That someone like you would want someone like…well, me. Ordinary Aubrey. And yes, you’re right, I have too many ghosts, and I didn’t handle that call well, and I should have set some fucking limits, but I didn’t. And I’m scared to actually like you too much, because you’re going to go back to America next week, and where does that leave me? Alone yet again, that’s what.”

It all tumbles out, messy and hot, words that won’t stop, my mouth going faster than my brain. And it’s visceral, this pain. Like I’m already grieving a future loss. Steeling against the inevitable loss when Blake comes back to his senses and he sees me for who I am—just some guy running a shop that’s basically doomed, and like Eli pointed out, a guy who’s totally broke to boot. Yay, me. Winning hearts and minds.

We stare at each other.

His mouth twitches again. “Most of this is on you. I told you—I really like you. You need to sort your shit out, Aubrey.”

So we stand in an awkward silence for an excruciatingly long time, a stalemate where we’re both hurt, where everything’s all wrong.

“What’re we even doing?” I manage eventually, shaking my head. “You’re going to have to go home—when, exactly?”

He straightens, holding my gaze. “Actually, I got a text from my agent that I need to go to L.A. for an audition.”

“L.A.?” A cold shock hits my stomach hard. “As in, Los Angeles?”

He nods once. “Yeah, L.A. Tonight.”

“What?” My face burns as we stare at each other. “Tonight? You—you weren’t going to tell me?”

Blake deflates. Runs a hand over his wet face. “I don’t know. I was trying to forget. Trying to extend things if I could, checking to see if I could go next week instead.” He hesitates. “But it could be a chance at a breakout role. My agent said I shouldn’t wait.”

“It’s what you’ve always wanted,” I say, flat.

Blake looks defeated. “I guess. I mean, of course. I’ve worked so hard for it. And my family…”

“Then you should go,” I manage. “And live your life like you’ve been doing before we met. We can…we can meet up when you’re back?”

“Yeah.”

We stand and stare at each other. How did something so brilliant fall apart like this so quickly? My stomach twists. If only I hadn’t answered that phone. If only I’d told Eli where I am, who I’m with. If only I had told Blake right away about the call.

Once back at the cottage, we pack up early.

“Would you take me to the station?” I ask softly in the car after we drop off our keys.

Blake looks at me, startled. “I can drive you back to London. I don’t mind.”

“I think it’s better we went our own ways, don’t you?” Listless, I gaze at him. “It’s a long drive. Spare us a whole lot of awkward. I can give you some money for the petrol. It only seems fair.”

How can it be two days ago that I felt light and free on the car ride up, like we were embarking together on some grand adventure, the two of us? Like maybe we were characters in the film he was shooting, like some fairy-tale rom-com where someone gets swept off their feet in a whirlwind romance? Except Blake’s not a prince and I’m not a princess. There’re not a lot of queer romances out there to model after, though I’ve always been one to forge my own way. But right now? Disaster.

“I don’t know,” Blake says unhappily. “I mean, I don’t care about the petrol. But you can ride back with me. I don’t mind.”

“Please,” I whisper, barely keeping it together. There are too many crashing thoughts in my skull, overwhelming me. The promise of Blake and the history of Eli that’s always getting in the way of everything. And the obligations of my life, one that I haven’t had a chance to live on my own terms, not really. “I think…I need to be alone for a while.”

And at last he takes me to the station and I can’t bear to kiss or hug him goodbye. It’s going to be a long ride setting out back south to London, left alone with tears and two images on his Instagram and nowhere near enough on my camera to prove the whole thing ever happened outside of my own imagination.

Chapter Sixteen

The wait on the platform in the blustery afternoon is lonely. When I finally settle in my window seat on the train, the long ride to London is even lonelier. At least I have the two-person seats to myself without anyone beside me. My bag’s been stashed by my feet. Something’s missing—not just someone. And then I remember: Blake has my dad’s guitar. Even if I resolved an hour ago to never see the man again, obviously I’ll need to see him again to get the guitar back.

A headache squeezes my skull, an ever-tightening band around my forehead and temples. I’ve skipped lunch and won’t get to eat something decent for hours yet. Somehow, I’m the one who ended up with the mixed nuts in my bag, and so I scavenge those and munch away while gloomily staring out at verdant views.

How could everything go so wrong, so fast? What’s wrong with Eli? What’s wrong with me that I didn’t tell him to fuck off right away? Worse, what’s wrong with me for not flat-out saying I was there with Blake?

Stupid, Aubrey. And now everything’s fucked up.

Miserable, I sulk for a little while before pulling out my phone. In the train car, there’s a pack of laughing teens at one end, others talking or on their phones. I’m hardly adding to the din if I make a call too.

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