Finding London, Ellie Wade [different e readers txt] 📗
- Author: Ellie Wade
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“Ugh, that sounds horrible.” Paige scowls.
Maggie chuckles. “It’s really not bad because I only work three days a week. Depending on how my workdays fall in the week, I can have a bunch of days off in between. So, that makes up for it.”
“So, what did you do after the guys got home?” I direct my question to Sarah.
“Just hung out basically. It’s been such a gorgeous week, so Loïc and I spent a lot of time outside. We went kayaking and hiking, and he took me to the shooting range. That was fun!”
Of course it was. I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes. I hate feeling like this.
I plaster on a smile. Fake it till you make it…right?
“What are you going to do tomorrow while everyone’s at work?” I ask.
“Loïc’s going to let me borrow his truck, and I’m going to drive around to look at some possible apartments and check out a few jobs.”
“Oh, wow. So, like, you’re moving here?” I try to mask the worry in my voice.
“At some point, yes. I’ll probably wait until Loïc comes back from deployment, you know? But we’ll see. If I find an amazing job before then, I might move up sooner.”
A long lock of her beautiful Rapunzel hair falls over her shoulder and comes close to the plate of pizza in front of her. My eyes bulge as Loïc reaches over and places her hair behind her ear, so it doesn’t fall onto the greasy pepperoni.
What the hell?
“Oh, great!” I exclaim a little too cheerfully.
Paige squeezes my knee under the table. I turn to her, and she smiles reassuringly. She knows I’m about to lose my cool.
At least when Loïc leaves me for the blonde beauty, I’ll still have Paige.
Can the confident London, circa June, please return? This current model is driving me insane.
“So, should we get this game started or what?” Cooper asks.
“Yes, let’s do it!” I cheer. God, who am I?
Bowling is actually really fun. I haven’t bowled since I was little. I suck—like, totally suck—but that works in my favor because Loïc spends a lot of his time helping me get my form right.
The annoying Sarah-focused conversations are gone as well. In between turns, everyone chats about random stuff or jeers the current bowler. Loïc and Cooper have this crazy competitive thing going, and it’s quite hilarious. I think Paige and I are also in a rivalry, but we are duking it out to see who’s the worst bowler.
Many times throughout our game, I find myself laughing until my sides hurt, and to be honest, I need it.
We’re all in a fit of giggles as Cooper completes his pre-bowl ritual. He’s standing in front of the lane. First, he places the ball down on the ground between his feet while he stretches his hands up and then out in both directions, swinging his arms back and forth in front of himself. He ends his stretch by shaking out his hands. Then, he touches his toes before completing some sort of lunge. That move is followed by the rolling of his neck. Finally, he picks up his ball, blows on it, rubs it, and appears to whisper to it.
“Fucking-A, Cooper! Bowl!” Loïc laughs.
“Don’t be a hater just ’cause I’m going to kick your ass,” Cooper calls out.
“You can sprinkle pixie dust on that shit, and you still won’t beat me, so stop making a fool of yourself.” Loïc shakes his head in amusement.
“Who knew bowling was so competitive?” I laugh, leaning my head onto Loïc’s shoulder as he sits next to me.
“Everything between Cooper and me is a competition. When we were stationed at Fort Sill in Oklahoma, we went bowling all the time. There seemed to be nothing to do in that city, but for some reason, there were four bowling alleys really close to the base. So, Cooper and I spent a lot of our free time trying to beat each other at this game.” Loïc smiles.
“I’m glad we all got to do it. It’s fun. I haven’t bowled since I was a kid,” I say.
“Yeah, it’s cool having everyone out together.”
“It is,” I agree.
“You sure you don’t want to get together tomorrow or Friday? Sarah will love it. I promise,” he says.
“No, really, that’s okay. You two haven’t seen each other in years. You should spend her last two evenings catching up. It’s fine. I’ll see you Saturday after she flies out.”
“Are you sure?” Loïc doesn’t sound convinced.
“Totally.” I pat his leg. “Enjoy your time with Sarah, but when she leaves, you’re all mine. Got it?”
He laughs. “All right. I can handle that.”
I have Loïc all to myself today. Finally. I’ve been patient for a week now.
That’s a lie.
I let Loïc believe I was being patient when, in reality, I’d been complaining my ass off to Paige for seven days straight. She’d had to endure my bitching and moaning from sun up to sun down.
That’s also a lie.
I wouldn’t get out of bed until at least noon—most days, two in the afternoon—so the complaining was endured from lunchtime on, at best. But, regardless, I’m a nightmare when I’m in a foul mood, and Paige is the best for putting up with my shit.
The crazy thing is, I can’t complain to Loïc. What kind of insensitive bitch would I be?
Hey, you, boyfriend. I know that one of the only people you’ve ever loved, who you thought was dead, just showed up, undead, and you’re over the moon with joy as your heart unshatters from the million pieces in which it had previously shattered. But do you think you could pay me more attention?
See? It wouldn’t work.
In truth, I truly am so happy for Loïc. He has had such a hard life, and he received such a gift last week. He deserves it. He’s such a great man. He is worthy of happiness. I can’t even imagine how he must be feeling, having Sarah back. The entire ordeal is hard for me to wrap my mind around, and she’s not even my long-lost best friend/sister.
So, while my head tells me to stop being selfish and to think about someone else’s happiness for once, my heart is beating with more urgency this week…in warning. Of what though?
Loïc’s told me many times that he’s always loved Sarah like family, like a sister. There has never been anything romantic between them. But I have a hard time sitting back while my love spends quality one-on-one time with a gorgeous woman he loves and cherishes, regardless of the way in which he claims to love her.
Rationally, I know I have to give him this. I have to trust him. But I’ve never loved anyone the way I love him. My fragile heart is so fearful of the things that could happen. Because, let’s face it, stuff can happen. I have friends who have had betrayals happen with boyfriends who had a lot less invested in their mistresses than Loïc has invested in Sarah.
Bowling on Wednesday went well. Loïc was completely sweet and attentive toward me. He treated Sarah with the same type of admiration he showed to Maggie and Cooper. Nothing seemed amiss, but the underlying feeling of dread remained.
Loïc did invite me over to hang out with him and Sarah several times this week. I knew he was just doing it to be nice, so I always declined. The mature girlfriend in me gave him time to get reacquainted with his dear friend. I know he needed it, and I hope that his heart was able to mend itself some this week.
Yet I miss him so much it hurts. I just need him to get here, so I can reassure myself that everything is right between us.
The rumbling hum of Loïc’s truck’s engine sounds through my bedroom walls.
He’s here!
I don’t even wait for him to make it to the front door before I throw it open and leap into his arms. He catches me, and I wrap my legs around his waist. His strong chest vibrates from laughter as I cling to him like a spider monkey.
“Miss me?” He chuckles.
His full lips plant soft kisses on my neck as I hold him tight, burying my face against his shoulder.
It feels so good to have him in my arms again. How am I going to make it a year when I couldn’t even make it three days? Good thing I saw him midweek, or I would have been more pathetic than I am at the present time.
That’s a lie.
I couldn’t possibly be more pathetic due to the fact that I’m currently crying. Damn it.
I’m not exactly sure when I started, but I’m sobbing on Loïc’s soft T-shirt that smells like fabric softener and the sexy-as-hell cologne he uses.
God, he smells good.
Pull yourself together, London, before he notices.
“London, are you crying?” he asks, concerned.
Well, shit.
“No,” I lie through a sniffle.
Loïc laughs. “London, why are you crying?” He sounds completely amused.
“I don’t know,” I mumble, my throat tight, as my arms continue to cling to his neck.
“Look at me.”
I shake my head.
“London, please look at me,” he says gently, placing a finger beneath my chin.
I let him guide me, slowly lifting my head, without attempting to wipe my tears. What’s the point?
“What is it?”
“Do you still love me?” The words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them. This isn’t me. In fact, I hate this weak version of myself. Yet, apparently, where Loïc is concerned, I’m not very strong.
His big blue eyes widen. “Of course I do. Come here.” He moves us to the bench on my front porch and sets me down. He takes a seat next to me and grabs my hands in his. “Tell me what the issue is, London. I can’t fix it if I don’t know what’s wrong.”
I wipe the wetness on my cheeks. Now that my face isn’t buried in Loïc’s shirt, the tears have stopped coming, which I’m thankful for. I take a large breath and steady myself. “I’m just afraid.”
Loïc urges me on with his kind expression.
Why is he the one comforting me?
In a matter of a week, our roles seem to have reversed.
I sigh, letting a gush of air out through my lips. “I’m just afraid that I’m going to lose you. I…I’ve had a lot of time to think about us this week, and I really don’t want to lose you. I think I need you more than I realized.”
He cocks his head to the side. “Is this about Sarah?”
“Maybe.” I shrug.
“Do you think something happened between us?”
“No.” I shake my head. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
He wipes his thumb across my cheek, catching an errant tear. “London, nothing happened with Sarah.” He regards me with a thoughtful expression. “She knows that I love you, and I know that I love you. Plus, throw in the fact that she and I don’t
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