Page 46 of The Only Reason (The Trident Trilogy 2)

He smiles. “I guess I’m feeling a little nostalgic for when we used to work together.”

It’s the first time I really look at his face. There are more wrinkles around his eyes than I remember, but the pale blue color still twinkles when he smiles. He has his beautiful, thick black hair slicked back away from his face—a few gray hairs around his temples. Raine was right about one thing: he is beautiful. That hasn’t changed a bit.

“Millie,” he says, reaching out to take my hand, “it’s really good to see you again. You look absolutely gorgeous. You haven’t changed at all.”

I smile and squeeze his hand. “It’s good to see you, too. You’re as handsome as ever.”

“I always did say we would make beautiful babies.” He squeezes my hand softly before he lets it go. “Are you doing okay? With the kidnapping and everything . . . I wanted to call you after it all went down, but I wasn’t sure if that would help or hurt.”

“I’m fine. It was a lot, but it actually helped me answer some questions. It would have been nice if they could have been answered in a less traumatic fashion, but you know.”

“I’m glad you found out about your mom. I know that’s always nagged at you,” he says, looking down at his feet. “That and your dad. It’s coming up on nine years since he died. Has it gotten any easier?”

I’m assuming by the way he’s talking he doesn’t know about the agency helping my dad disappear—or at least claiming they did. I decide not to tell him.

“Yeah, it has,” I say cautiously. “Mason’s been really good at helping me mourn him.”

He looks up. “Yeah. I mean, them doing the same job . . . I can understand that. So you’re serious with this Mason guy or what?”

“Yeah. We’ve only been together for a few months, but we’re serious.”

“So no room for me to slip back in?” He smiles, his eyes twinkling like Christmas lights.

“Alex.”

“I’m kidding, Millie,” he says, laughing. “I know we’re done. But maybe we can get back to being friends. I miss having you in my life. Seeing you has made that way more apparent.”

“Maybe,” I say as I smile back at him.

“Hey. I need to do a few things before we’re wheels up,” he says. “I’ll see you on the plane. Save me a seat. I really want to catch up with you.”

He pulls me up and hugs me. This time it doesn’t feel shocking or weird. Honestly, it feels kind of nice—like coming home.

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