Finding London, Ellie Wade [different e readers txt] 📗

Loïc and I are on the fine precipice between utopia and a nightmare. We’re at the thin space between unfathomable love and devastating loss. One step in the wrong direction would seal our fate, and we’re too new, too fragile, to come back from it. I’m terrified of making the incorrect move, but the only option for me is to be myself. I’m not capable of anything else.

Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to mind my earlier outburst because his lips continue to move against mine with such reverence that my chest aches.

When he pulls away, he continues to hold my face in his hands. Our faces are so close that I can see the multiple shades of blue in his eyes.

“We good?” he asks, his deep voice thick with desire.

I nod.

“Good.” He leans in and kisses my forehead. Pulling back, he says with a chuckle, “And what are you wearing?”

“What?” I’m in black shorts and a flirty sleeveless top. “You told me to dress casual.”

“You’re wearing heels.”

“Casual heels, and they match this outfit,” I scoff.

“Heels aren’t casual, London.”

“They are to me,” I protest. “What does it matter?”

“We’re going kayaking. They’re not what I would think of as appropriate footwear for outdoor sports.” He smirks, and it’s so adorable that I want to kiss him again.

“Listen, Berkeley”—I throw out his last name as a warning to the serious nature of choosing an outfit for a date—“if you tell me casual, I’m going to dress that way. Next time, perhaps tell me to dress in attire appropriate for kayaking.” I offer him a glare though it’s empty of annoyance, and he knows it. “So, should I change?”

He shrugs with a grin across his face. “It’s up to you, but I would.”

“Fine. Come on.” I grab his hand and pull him into the house.

Paige is sitting, cross-legged, on one of the couches in the living room. She sports a knowing smile, and I’m sure she just heard everything.

“Loïc, this is my roommate, Paige,” I introduce them.

They’ve seen each other a couple of times—at the car wash and the club—but they’ve never formally met.

They exchange a few words.

“I’m going to go change my outfit. Apparently, it isn’t suitable for all the physical activity that Loïc has planned for me this evening.” My face turns red as soon as the words are out. I meant it as a joke, but I’m painfully aware of the innuendo that came with that statement.

Paige giggles. “Good idea. I have some extra condoms in my top drawer, if you need them.”

My mouth flies open as I shoot a scowl toward my best friend. Brat.

I’m not a prude or anything, but she knows that this is the first time Loïc has actually dated someone, and I don’t want to scare him away.

Thankfully, he’s laughing.

She’s lucky.

“The outfit you were wearing the first time I saw you would work,” Loïc offers with a teasing grin.

I recall the barely there bikini top and short shorts I wore for the car wash. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I shake my head in amusement. “You two had better behave.” I point my index finger between them.

“All is well that ends well,” Paige calls out as I turn to leave.

She’s ridiculous.

After I’ve changed into a pair of jean shorts and a baby tee, I slide on my flip-flops and head back to the living room. Loïc and Paige don’t notice me right away, and I have a few seconds to take in the scene before me. Loïc is laughing at something Paige said while she nods with a big smirk on her face.

She’d better not be telling secrets about me. I’ll get to the bottom of this later.

What I can’t take my eyes off of is Loïc—more specifically, Loïc laughing. That vision is a gift to my sight.

My heart tightens as I watch him. His wide smile, his eyes squinted in laughter, and his broad chest vibrating from the force of it combine into a perfectly constructed masterpiece. He looks so happy. More than that, he seems content within his soul. In this moment, he isn’t thinking about his demons, overanalyzing the second-to-second details of life, or using his rough exterior to compensate for his desire for constant control. He’s simply living.

There are still so many mysteries that surround Loïc. I’m sure I haven’t even scratched the surface of what horrors reside in his memories. Oddly enough, that draws me toward him even more.

I’ve never been the type of person to seek out those in need of emotional support. It’s not that I don’t care about other people, but I’m not comfortable with dealing with others’ issues. Maybe I’m selfish, but that’s just not who I am. I’m here for my close family and friends, sure, but the rest of the world needs to find someone else to be their pillar of strength because I’m not qualified for the job.

Yet, with Loïc, it’s different. All I want is to be there for him. I want him to trust me with his heart, to let me help mend it.

Finally, my presence at the entryway of the room is noticed. Loïc turns his attention to me. His laughter stops, but he still carries a smile. I shake off my deep thoughts revolving around Loïc’s redemption and healing. I can revisit those later. At this point in my relationship with him, getting to date three is my first priority.

“Is she telling you my deepest, darkest secrets?” I question before shooting an accusatory look Paige’s way.

“I guess you’ll never know.” The way he says it sounds like a challenge.

“Oh, I’ll find out.” I send a glare full of mock disgust toward Paige. I point my finger at her. “I know where you live, Paigey Poo. Don’t forget that.”

She laughs, which breaks my charade of anger as well, and I smile back at her.

With laughter in my voice, I add, “Remember where your loyalties lie, my friend.”

She responds with, “You two enjoy all your physical activities tonight.”

“I hate you,” I say, shaking my head.

Loïc grabs my hand and leads us toward the front door.

“Lies! You love me!” Paige shouts from the living room.

“You’re right. I love you,” I call back, my free hand grabbing my purse from the table before we exit the front door.

Loïc chuckles beside me. “Girls are so weird.”

“You’re just realizing this?”

“I suppose not. Maybe that’s part of the reason I don’t date.”

“You’re dating me.” He doesn’t respond, so I continue, “I think a second date qualifies as dating, don’t you?”

He lets out a noncommittal noise, letting me know that he heard me but, at the same time, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with my question. He opens the passenger door and waits for me to jump up into his truck.

After I’ve hopped up, I look over to him. “Why are you dating me, Loïc?”

He shakes his head and gives me a weak smile. “I have no idea,” he says more to himself than anything before he closes my door.

His cavalier statement and the sound of the door shutting make me jump in my seat. I have the feeling that he didn’t mean it as rude or hurtful but more speaking to his confusion about his feelings toward me. But I’d be lying if I said that it didn’t sting.

It’s about a thirty-minute drive to the river where we will be renting a kayak. We spend that time talking about our tastes in music. Loïc is a fan of varying rock. He likes classic rock, the hair bands—including the rock ballads of the eighties and nineties—and the alternative bands from the past two decades. He listens to a station on satellite radio that plays nothing but this type of music. The last three songs have been by Pearl Jam, Stone Temple Pilots, and The Smashing Pumpkins—and the only reason I know this is because each band’s name shows on his radio display.

I, on the other hand, am a religious Top Forty Pop music fan. Loïc says I’m a sellout, and I have shallow tastes. I argue that my preferences are the best because I’m listening to what the majority of people like at the moment.

“The songs wouldn’t be among the Top Forty most popular songs on the radio if they weren’t good, right? My music is relevant.”

“I’m gonna have to disagree with you on that one.” He chuckles.

What does he know anyway?

Right next to the kayak rental is a mom-and-pop diner, so we each have a quick burger before getting started.

While Loïc is paying, I try to be proactive, and I attempt to lift the kayak. The first thing I realize is that, despite how light and welcoming the kayak looks with its colorful plastic appearance, it is extremely heavy.

Or I’m just a complete wimp.

I grunt loudly in an unladylike fashion as I hoist one end of the kayak off the ground, but my hands slip. In an effort to catch the thing, I stumble on the wet ground. I let out a startled yell as my ass hits the slick earth, and the stupid wannabe boat falls on my legs.

Ouch! That’s going to turn lovely shades of blue and purple.

My eyes water from the event. It’s not as if I’m in excruciating pain, but it does sting a little, and my ego along with my shins are definitely bruised.

“London, what are you doing?” Loïc chuckles as he lifts the kayak off of me.

“I was trying to help.” I sniffle, completely embarrassed.

My confession causes him to laugh some more as he grabs my hand and lifts me into a standing position against his chest. He hugs me, pulling me into his warmness, while one of his hands rubs soothingly up and down my back. Against my cheek, I can feel the vibrations of the laughter he’s trying to hide, but I don’t care. I’ll fall more often to be held by Loïc.

I’m a true mess around him and extremely wishy-washy. One minute, I’m asserting my will, letting him know that I will not be walked all over, reminding him that I’m a strong, desirable woman who demands respect. The next, I’m a sniffling damsel in distress who’s contemplating what other precarious situations I can get myself into, so he’ll hold me like this again.

I’m an embarrassment to women’s rights everywhere.

He releases his hold. His hands grab on to my upper arms and push me back a bit. His amused gaze finds my embarrassed one. “You okay?”

I nod.

“Good.” He leans down and kisses my forehead before his grasp releases my arms. “Then, let’s go. I’ll handle the kayak.” He winks.

Cocky bastard.

He points to the life jackets by his feet. “Can you grab those?”

I pick up the vests and then say, “You know, it’s your fault.”

He lifts the kayak over his head, like it weighs nothing. His shirt rises with the motion, and I can see his tight stomach muscles and the V that disappears beneath his shorts. I force my eyes upward, only to be met with the sculpted muscles of his arms as they tighten to hold the kayak.

“Oh, really? How so?” He chuckles.

My focus snaps to his deep blues as he waits for my response. “Oh, well…you made