Page 73 of Afterglow
The man bought me a fucking car. And a pricey one at that. “Fletcher, it’s too much.”
“Whaddya mean?” He cocoons me in his strong arms. “Too flashy? Too pink?”
“And too expensive. I won’t be able to pay you back for it.”
Fletcher clicks his tongue and pelts the end of my nose with a kiss. “That’s why it’s called a gift.”
I make a disapproving noise, vocalizing my grievances while he physically sways me, as if the motion will convince me to accept this lavish present.
“Come on, you need it.”
“I don’t.” Another car would have done just fine, but no. This man had to go and get a char char bangadi wali gadi, as my mom says.Shewould be thrilled with its luxury. I feel spoiled and unworthy. “You could’ve bought a new truck.”
“Mine works fine.Youpassed the bar, gorgeous. You deserve it.” His hands wind together at the small of my back, swishing around the chiffon fabric of my sundress. “What, you were going to ride your bike to the office? Not on my watch,” he says with a finality. “I can’t have the next big name in international law show up to court with some shoddy heap of junk.” Fletcher hooks my hands around his neck, and I have to lift my feet until I’m on the tips of my toes. “Plus, I won’t be around during the regular season to drive you, or else you know I would.”
Funnily enough, I won’t be either.
“About that.” I draw my gaze up to his. It’s so molten and adoring, I hope what I divulge next doesn’t ruin it. “Remember the interview Dr. Ahmad set up for me? For the apprenticeship?”
“Mmhmm,” he replies hazily, distracting me with the taste of his lips.
The distraction is working. “I…got it.”
“Amazing,” Fletcher gushes, his sweet praise bittering the news.
“It starts” —I can hardly piece together the sentence from the way his mouth and tongue ravish a sensitive spot below my ear— “in January.”
“Perfect.”
I gasp when the delicate skin along my neck gets pulled between his teeth. “It’s in London.”
He freezes, then eases his hold on me. “London?”
I nod, swallowing a hesitant gulp, wholly unsure of how this will change us.
“Like, across the ocean, in a different country, London?”
“Yeah.”
“Fuck, Bea.” Our foreheads fall to one another as we puff out a synchronous breath. “I hate this.” My heart cracks at the disappointed whisper. “But you gotta go.”
“I do?”
His head moves up and down, forcing mine to nod, too. “You’ve worked too fucking hard.”
“What about…” The lump lodged in my throat robs me of any eloquence. “You…us?”
“I’ll be here,” he confirms. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“What if?—”
Fletcher places a finger over my mouth. “I’ve waited for you for six years, Behraz. What’s six months?”
Nothing makes sense but the weepyI love you’sI murmur into his skin.
“I love you, too.” Fletcher brushes tears from my cheeks with his thumbs, kissing my face all over. “Let’s take your new car for a ride, hey?” He hands over the keyless remote, unlocking it with a beep before tugging at the black knot around my throat until it steals my breath. “Then we can take this blindfold for a ride.”
“Can we…record it?” I ask sweetly. “For days you’re on the road?”
