Page 19 of The One

6

The blast of heat as we entered my unit was sweltering, but that could also have been nerves because I was a mess. It took everything in me not to fall over in my pink heels, as everything was getting to me. His divulgence outside was still there, lingering in the background, but it wasn’t yet my place to probe for more. Yet?

“It’s nice to see the rest of your home,” he stated behind me as we both shuffled from our coats. “Where do you keep your hammer?”

“What?” I laughed in surprise, bending down to take off my heels. Rhys pointed toward my fireplace and I remembered his framed print balancing on the floor next to it. It was exactly where I’d left it, where this night began.

His presence in my home was overwhelming, and not in the way I’d expected. Having the energy of someone in that small space was like an anchor, and I realized how much I missed it. As independent as I was, having Rhys in my living room was comforting. After all, the only people to visit me since Caleb and I fell apart were Benji, Amelia, and mom. Rhys was different, his presence grounding me.

Shuffling through a drawer in my kitchen, I found a small silver hammer and a package of nails. Not sure what size he’d need, I handed Rhys the entire box as he stood at the fireplace and folded the cuffs of his white button down over his forearms. Reminding myself to ask him about the tattoo that once distracted me in London, I bit my lip and sat on the arm of my couch behind him.

Watching Rhys quietly lift the frame to the wall and analyze it, I admired him and each twitch of his forearms, the movement of his fingers, and the way his shirt stretched over his back when he pounded a hole into the wall.

“How many more glasses of wine will it take for you to tell me everything you’re willing to spill about Matthew,” I blurted, continuing to stare like a fool at Rhys from behind. His shoulders shook gently with his low chuckle, the sound warm enough to make me blush.

“Except for him,” Rhys adjusted the frame against the wall, “even the most seemingly predictable things can have a beautiful story behind them.” Turning from the wall, he smiled at me. “I’d gone to Paris hundreds of times, but I went once by myself to take time away from everything happening. When my train broke down somewhere between there and the mountains, I stepped off to see this beautiful field of lavender freshly misted with the rain. Simple plant, routine trip—”

“Beautiful story.”

“And now,” he grinned, “you’re a part of it. You have a piece of me in your home. That’s an incredible compliment. The next picture you send of me with you standing there will look even better with that actually hanging behind you.” I gaped at him while he spoke, not sure if his words were real. “Now, tell me where you keep your matches and show me this book from your mum.”

The hardwood felt refreshing beneath my feet as I crossed the floor to grab a metal jar of matches from the mantle, inches from Rhys. I held it out for him, waiting while he sorted through the jar and put the wooden end of a match between his teeth while closing the lid. His bright grin was disarming. The way his lips twisted when he took out the match and knelt in front of the fireplace was even worse.

Shaking my fingers, I walked to my bedroom and found mom’s book in a heap on the floor. The spine cracked, and the cover creased from my reading marathon on the plane. The warmth from my fireplace calmed my nerves as I stepped into the hallway, catching Rhys in the space where my living room met the kitchen, extending a glass of red wine to me. Our glasses clinked, a sound that complimented the sizzling fire. The way Rhys watched me while we both took a sip would’ve irritated me days ago, but I smiled this time because I quickly learned that evening, under his sheath of arrogance from London, he had a heart.

Nestled onto our opposite ends of the sofa, our feet stretched toward the fire, I rolled my head along its pillow and considered Rhys. Only lit by the fire and a dim light in my hall, the room was dark and comforting, and so I settled in and watched the way his tongue would slowly glide along his bottom lip after a sip of wine, as if desperate to contain its taste, and the way his fingers gracefully held the stem. His other thumb ran along the pages of my book before he opened to my earmarked page at the beginning of chapter seven. If it weren’t for the wine and the comfort of the fire and my couch, I might have felt embarrassed to have gotten through that much of the book.

“Chapter seven,” he quietly read. “Loving myself to let love in. I wonder if these cover models knew they’d become bound eternally to this story. Oh, look. Right here.” He waved the book. “Stop worrying about your siblings and move the hell on with your own life.” Rhys smirked, closing the book and tossing it between us. “No wonder you’re halfway through, Mia. That’s the best advice right there.”

Knowing the book didn’t say that, I rolled my eyes and laughed. Rhys was right, and I’d considered that at dinner. I hadn’t heard from Sadie in days, and that made me want to send her rich fiancé an invoice for my airfare plus some for emotional damages.

I learned everything from sitting on the couch, somehow inching closer to one another as the night crept toward morning. Rhys had a home in the city, and he invited me over for dinner before he planned on returning to London… But I’m not sure if I remembered responding. He confessed more about his brother and I still hated the guy, but it was nice that they both did a lot for charities. That didn’t change the fact Matthew was a hard pill to swallow, and maybe it wasn’t him anymore and rather the mess Sadie had made for herself. I didn’t want to know about her cheating on Matthew, and I tried to pretend it didn’t bother me, but that would’ve been a deal breaker for me.

Listening to Rhys tell me about his wife felt like I’d lost myself in a novel narrated by the most intriguing and romantic voices found. I didn’t push for more when he mentioned the accident that took her life, just like he didn’t demand more than I wanted to share about Caleb.

He told me a lot about Sadie’s world overseas, and I learned that, while Rhys truly adored her, she was a mess, but she was safe and loved. Divulging our secrets between the opened bottle of wine and crackling fire must’ve been its own chapter in my mom’s book, because the release of honesty healed something inside of me.

My throbbing head woke me the following morning. At least that’s what I thought until I realized the obnoxious sound was someone pounding on my door. Slowly opening my eyes, I lifted my face from the sofa cushion and glanced around the room. I wasn’t even sure last night happened until I limply climbed from the sofa and noticed the white box on my coffee table.

Next to it, swirls of steam pillowed from a colorful paper cup. I recognized the logo on the cup and box and realized someone was spoiling me. The pounding continued on my door, but I didn’t think Rhys would be so intrusive if locked out.

“Mia! Open this door!” Sadie’s piercing voice ruined my mood.

I took a quick moment to lift open the box, met with a covered plate of bacon and eggs, as well as a chocolate croissant, and my stomach growled, causing me to wonder how much time I had to devour that breakfast before my pregnant sister could break down the door. A folded piece of paper pressed behind the sleeve of my coffee grabbed my attention while Sadie disturbed everyone in my building.

Mia,

Thank you for an incredible evening. I didn’t want to wake you this morning. Next time, I’ll make breakfast.

Yours,

Rhys

It made me smile, and that’s all I needed from his note in that moment, because my sister pounding on my door was going to exhaust me for the next month. When I carried breakfast into the kitchen, placing it on the counter, I ran to my bedroom to tuck away Rhys’s note and get out of my clothes from last night. I almost memorized the address he wrote beneath his signature, recalling his offer for dinner.

Sadie was pouting, arms crossed, in a huff next to our mom, when I finally opened the door. I looked at mom first, using my foot on the inside as a barricade so it wouldn’t open with Sadie’s incessant shoving.

“We wanted to surprise you with breakfast,” mom offered, “and Sadie’s feeling…ignored.”

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