Page 53 of One Small Secret

Ruben drags his lips along my cheek and murmurs something. I think it’s my name, but the party is so loud I’m not sure. One firm hand slides up my spine, tucking me tighter against him, and then his mouth finds mine again.

As much as I’ve loved looking at Ruben’s bare torso on my phone, being pressed into it, even with layers of clothing between us, is infinitely better. Looking at his picture is a solo experience, but these kisses are a team building exercise.

And Ruben and I make a very innovative and exceptional team. We should get a plaque on an office wall and a special parking spot.

A jolt hits me from behind. A couple similarly occupied pauses to apologize, and Ruben freezes. He swallows hard and then brings his lips to my ear. “Happy New Year, Cadence,” he whispers, and somehow I make out every word.

I pull away from him and mouth the words back to him with a smile. But his face has changed. He has gone from spectacular boyfriend material to distant employer much faster than I would have thought possible. I don’t think he hears my voice in this crowd. He hasn’t had years of practiced listening like I have. I’ve looked for his picture in every magazine, listened in on every interview he gave, and pulled up his pictures when I was lonely for home.

I had thought it was Rosco I was looking for in those pictures, but it wasn’t. It was Ruben. It was always Ruben, and now that I know my heart, he's going to shatter it without ever knowing it was his to break.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

So I’m in love with Ruben Palmer. Big deal. Pretty much every woman on the planet is in love with him. It doesn’t mean we get to do anything about it.

But as we reboard Ruben’s plane, him whistling behind me while pulling both of our suitcases, I know I’m lying to myself. I’m not in love with Ruben Palmer, internet darling and king of killer abs. I’m in love with Ruben. The man who gave up any sense of normalcy so his parents could have it. The man who gave me a dictionary and hijacked an elevator so we could talk. And the man who just admitted that his dorky sophomore smile, which made the whole planet fall in love with him, was directed at me.

But I’m lying to myself about that too. He made up that cute little story to convince his friends that he could love a very average person like me. And although his plan worked, it had the unexpected consequence of making this particular average person realize exactly how she felt about him.

And the kiss that followed solidified every single feeling into granite.

The pilot and copilot greet me as soon as I step on the plane. Six of the seats are still set up as desks, but the last two have been made into beds.

I’m not sure how I will ever fly coach again.

It’s past two a.m., but after our bags are stowed away and the captains move into the cockpit, Ruben sits at one of the desks and pulls out his computer.

I stand awkwardly for a moment. I’m so tired I want to cry, and I’m not sure I can handle any more time with Ruben right now. I need a good night’s sleep and roughly three years in Vietnam to recover from this evening.

Ruben, on the other hand, looks wide awake.

And very unaffected.

He opens his computer and turns to me. “I’m a few hours late, but I promised you a New Year’s Eve present.” He looks around like he's going to find a chair for me to sit by him, but all the seats in the airplane are very much attached to the floor. He stands and motions for me to sit in his seat.

“You really didn’t have to. I thought you were joking.”

He narrows his eyes. “Is that your way of trying to get out of getting me a present?”

“No.” I sit and hook a thumb toward the cabinet. “Yours is in my bag.”

A corner of his mouth lifts. “Good.”

He leans over me, bombarding me with the return of his cinnamon pinecone scent after his shower. His fingers find the trackpad and hover on a file entitled “NYE Present.”

“Is this another picture?” I ask before he can click on it.

“You wish.” He clicks.

It’s a report, and contrary to what Ruben just said, it does have a picture on it. I gasp the second I see it. “What’s this?”

“It’s a preliminary mock-up and location for a hotel on the Mekong River in the Luang Parbang region of Laos. It’s been given the green light.”

I don’t know if it’s the late hour or the fact that I’m emotionally drained, but tears start to form in my eyes, and I put my hand over my mouth to stop a cry from escaping.

Ruben sees it all. “What’s wrong? Do you hate it?” I shake my head violently, but I can’t speak. “I’m not working on the project. I just wanted to let you know it was green-lighted. It was going to be anyway, whether I gave it to you as a present or not.”

I shake my head again. “No,” I sniff and squeeze my eyes to keep them from leaking. This is so unprofessional. “That isn’t it.”

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