Page 122 of Deal Breaker
I shut down my computer, grab my bag, and tell Becca I’m heading out, ignoring the smug little smirk she throws my way. Then I make my way to his office. He’s standing near the window, sleeves rolled, hair tousled, the late afternoon light painting him in gold. God, he’s beautiful. Masculine. Steady. Mine.
“Hey,” I say softly.
He turns and smiles, eyes immediately warming. “Let’s get out of here.”
I nod.
“Your place or mine?” he asks, already grabbing his jacket.
“Mine,” I say. “We’ll pick up Poppy on the way. I thought we could work on bike riding again?”
His smile deepens. “You mean she’ll work on it, and I’ll pretend not to have a heart attack when she veers into the bushes.”
“She only veered once.”
“She hit a tree.”
“A tiny tree.”
He grins and opens the door for me. We’re halfway down the hall when he pauses and pats his pockets. “Shit,” he mutters. “I forgot my keys.”
“I’ll grab them,” I offer, already turning.
He calls after me. “Top drawer.”
I head back into his office, the door clicking closed behind me. I move around his desk, and pull open the topdrawer, expecting to find his keys. What I find instead makes me freeze.
There, tucked in the corner like something private, sacred, is the old black leather bracelet I gave him when we were in college. It’s worn, the edges fraying. The little silver clasp I added is tarnished but still intact.
He kept it. All this time.
A lump rises in my throat as I pick it up. My fingers tremble slightly as I run them along the edge, memories hitting me in waves. He wore this every day the summer we fell in love.
I turn as the door opens behind me. He sees what’s in my hand and stops. Neither of us speaks right away.
“You kept it,” I whisper.
He nods once. “I couldn’t throw it away.”
My throat tightens.
“It was the only thing I had left of you. Of us.”
I walk toward him slowly, bracelet still in hand. When I reach him, I take his wrist gently in mine and slide it on.
It still fits.
Of course it does.
He watches me, eyes unreadable but soft.
“I used to think it was just a silly, cheap bracelet,” I say, fingers brushing over the worn leather. “But maybe it was more than that.”
He lifts his hand, places it over mine. “It was everything,” he says quietly.
We stand there for a second, hearts thudding, that bracelet between us like the past and the present finally lining up.
And then he presses a kiss to my forehead, simple and soft. “Let’s go pick up our girl.”
