Page 70 of Sustain

When they finally notice my lingering presence, I raise my hands in mock surrender. "Apologies for interrupting rare artifact storytime." But my grin gives away to joy as Mackenzie's bright eyes meet mine from across the room. “I was just wondering about dinner?”

My mother tsks disapprovingly at me, “I thought I heard you say you were both going somewhere nearby for dinner alone?” I’d swear there’s encouragement in her tone, but that can’t be right.

“Well, I mean--” I start.

“No, no. Enough of this nonsense,” My mother says, closing the door to the curio, and gently pressing Mackenzie in my direction. “You two go enjoy yourselves. I think the girls will be asleep for a while yet from the looks of it. We’re not going anywhere.”

“If you insist…” I demure, glancing at Mackenzie who can only shrug in response.

“Why don’t you try the Shangri-La across the Thames? I hear their room service is quite tolerable.”

Mackenzie’s brows shoot up as she hears the term ‘room service.’ As do mine. Is she actually suggesting…?

“Go on you two,” she insists, now pushing us both toward the front door. “Before I lose my good nature.”

We both allow ourselves to be escorted out, coats handed to us roughly. And when the door shuts behind us, we turn to each other in disbelief.

“Did that just happen?” I ask, my warm breath pluming in the chilled air.

“I think it did,” Mackenzie laughs, shrugging into her coat.

“Right then. Shangri-La?”

“Are you making the reservation, or am I?”

Maybe these two important pillars of my world, building unexpected bridges, shouldn't surprise me anymore. We've allbeen caught up in hidden depths lately. But witnessing stiff upper lips unpin themselves right before my eyes still feels a bit too miraculous.

The soundsof London traffic almost imperceptibly float up from the streets below as I slide the keycard into our hotel room door. Mackenzie lingers just behind, uncharacteristically quiet since we left Mum's place. I chalk it up to surprise at the seismic shift with my mother's blessing over dinner, and whatever might come next for us alone. She’s not the only one still surprised.

Flabbergasted, more like.

Inside, low lighting and a stupendous view of the Thames and London beyond bathe everything in a muted glow. This space feels suspended somewhere outside of real life, much like that snowy cabin hideaway where we first stumbled recklessly into each other. My heart starts to race remembering us wrapped in tangled sheets and Mackenzie's sly smile beckoning me toward ecstasy. I can’t help but wonder what the next few hours might have in store for us.

I turn to find her hovering awkwardly as well near the entry table, clearly warring with herself. My brow furrows. Has she started second-guessing everything? I take a tentative step closer, ducking my head slightly to catch her amethyst eyes.

"Hey. No expectations here if it doesn't feel right yet," I murmur. Her tentative look wrenches my gut. We’re navigating uncharted territory, but I swear to make it a safe passage regardless. "Maybe we can just see where things lead naturally?" I graze her wrist, feeling her unraveling tension.

A shaky laugh escapes her as she sways into my arms. We have time now, and trusting instincts got us this far.

But I absolutely have to know where this goes.

fifty-three

. . .

Over and Over Again

Mackenzie

I smile against Ian's comforting lips, the knot of awkwardness I felt earlier finally unfurls as his arms wrap solidly around me. Our mouths move slowly as if choreographing the first tentative steps of a dance we’ve almost forgotten.

I let my hands trail up his strong shoulders, thrilling as small shivers follow my touch. How many restless nights have there been since we last touched each other like this?

Too many.

My breath catches as Ian gently cups my neck, angling into a deeper kiss that instantly reignites the passion between us. Muscle memory kicks in, and we both know that one kiss is leading us further now. The decadent suite's dim lighting, and the romantic skyline view as a backdrop, fade into the periphery until only intoxicating sensory awareness of this man surrounds me.

I press closer into him with a soft noise of longing, sighing encouragement when clever hands trail teasingly down my sides in response. We may be moving cautiously as new partners afterthe seismic life shifts we’re both experiencing, but I recognize and trust these timeless rhythms.

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