40

I wake up to the sound of my phone buzzing against wood. There’s so much about the room around me that doesn’t make sense, it takes me a few seconds to piece together what’s happened.

I’m not on Gertrude. I don’t live at Tom’s anymore. I’m not on Tessa, my freshly monikered mattress. I’m not at my and CiCi’s apartment.

I’m in a hotel room.

I am not wearing...anything. And there’s a deliciously shower gel–scented arm attached to a man who was recently named one of the Sexiest Men Alive by People magazine draped over my back.

With the sun scorching my retinas, I fumble for the phone on the nightstand and try to will vision back into my eyes.

I have eleven missed calls from CiCi and seventeen unread text messages. The most recent reads: I am giving you exactly five minutes to respond to this before I kick down Caspian’s door while simultaneously filing a missing persons report, because neither of you are replying and I’m solidly freaked out.

I blink slowly at the screen and fire off a quick reply. Stand down. I’m alive and well, and I’m upstairs. Will report back all developments when I fully regain consciousness later.

I swear to every god I just heard a screeching sound from somewhere in this hotel.

I send: Shut up. You’ll wake the entire city.

“Everything all right?” a sleepy English voice asks beside me.

“Just CiCi being her overprotective self,” I say with a yawn. “By the way, I apologize in advance if you ended up with the same number of missed calls and texts as I did.”

Without moving his arm, I feel him reach over and grab his own phone. Still on my stomach, I turn my head on my pillow to face him. He curls up on his side and starts scrolling.

“I have to say, I’m impressed by how quickly she jumped from concern for us both to threatening my life. Bonus points for creativity, though. How exactly would one dismember someone whilst they are already submerged in acid, I wonder?”

“Oh my god.” I groan and laugh into the pillow. “That’s a classy message right there.”

“Did you happen to talk her down from actual murder, or should I be climbing out the window carrying my trousers?”

I giggle way too hard at the imagery. “You’re good. I know she’s excited, because by the end, she’d stopped using punctuation and her caps lock key seemed to be stuck.”

“That’s an interesting litmus.” He drops his phone on the bed behind him. “I admire her dedication to being a good friend.”

“She is that,” I agree. “Although she’s going to be downright insufferable after this. I may have to hide in here forever if I’m going to escape her gloating.”

He kisses my shoulder. “I can live with that.”

I’m feeling a little swoony. “Not to look a naked gift horse in the mouth or anything,” I say sleepily, “but somehow I think your team would take issue with you abandoning real life to live in a hotel room.” A thought occurs to me. “Actually, how is it you’re even here right now? Aren’t you in the middle of a press tour?”

Caspian yawns. “Technically, I’m at the end of one, and for the first time in a decade, I asked to have my schedule cleared until Monday.”

I prop myself up on my elbows. “Monday? Were you that confident I was going to accept your apology, or...?”

He looks shocked. “God, no. I genuinely assumed you’d throw something at my head or punch me in the face, and honestly, I figured I’d need a few days after to come to terms with it all. Process the situation.” He pulls me slightly closer. “And to give myself time for the swelling to go down before I had to be on camera again, of course.”

“Of course.”

He gazes at me, radiating sincerity. “I was very serious about everything I said last night,” he says. “I never expected anything from you. I never anticipated you’d speak to me again, let alone—” he grins a little “—this particular development.”

“Vegas bookies would have given some tremendous odds on this one.” I ponder those odds. “If you’d asked me yesterday morning where my bet would have fallen, I would have lost a lot of money last night, is all I’m saying.”

I roll onto my back and wriggle into a little nook next to him. I am very, very comfortable.

“Clara,” he says, and the corner of my mouth pulls up at the way he says it. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“What are your thoughts on seeing me again after our time in this room comes to a close?”

I frown. “Wow. Way to bring the mood to a crashing halt there, sir.”

“I apologize,” he says, leaning his head back onto his pillow. “I was just hoping to get an idea of where you’re at, I suppose. I wanted to manage my expectations accordingly. Knowing you’re thinking of this as a onetime event is—”

“Okay, I didn’t say that?” I say, a little too sharply. “Also, you get oddly formal when you start to close up about things. Do you realize that?”

He smiles. “I do, don’t I?”

“And I didn’t say I wanted anything to be a onetime whatever, but, Caspian, come on. What else is there? Realistically, you can’t keep dumping your schedule to show up at my family functions.”

He tilts his head until he’s looking at me again. “That’s not necessarily what I meant.”

“What, then?”

“That, should you be so inclined, we could make a point to see each other again.”

“Overly formal.”

“Sorry,” he laughs. “I’m asking if you’d be willing to...spend time with me. In an official capacity of some sort.”

“How would that even be possible? We don’t even live in the same country. We’d never see each other.”

“Long distance isn’t that terrible, and I’m in New York all the time. And you could come visit. I’d like that very much, actually. And I know Devon already has at least a month’s worth of sightseeing lined up for you.”

“Okay, I know I’m technically employed again,” I say, “but I’m not rich, dude. I can’t afford to jet across the Atlantic at whim.”

“Clara, I have approximately seven billion frequent-flier miles that I never get to use because I’m always being flown for work. I’d be delighted to put them to such a worthy endeavor.” He smiles again. “Assuming that’s a thing you’d be interested in doing.” His smile rapidly devolves into a frown. “I realize as I’m saying all this that springing an intentions conversation on you while trapped in bed naked is maybe not the fairest way I could have approached this.”

I shrug. “I don’t know. I think it’s a good way to be sure you’re getting an honest answer from someone, at the very least. No armor, nowhere to hide.”

He looks pleased. “I like the positive spin.”

I stare up at the ceiling and ponder. While it’s debatably been a hoot and a half to spend the last few weeks in total denial about my feelings for Caspian, both for and against, the idea of...what, dating him? That seems surreal, and after everything, my barometer for the odd is wildly skewed compared to most.

“What’s going through your mind right now?” he asks. “You look very deep in thought.”

I turn on my side to face him, and he mirrors the action. “Are you...? Do you feel guilty, or something?”

“I hope I always feel guilty for what happened,” he says quickly. “But what do you mean, exactly?”

I sigh. “I’m trying to think of a way to say this that doesn’t sound self-deprecating, or like I’m fishing for a compliment, but while I get what made you roll with the fake-girlfriend angle before, I’m falling back to my original thoughts on the subject. You’re a super good-looking, famous actor with a voice that’s essentially audible sex. You don’t strike me as the type who would need to go to such great lengths to date. Or get laid. Or whatever it is you’re suggesting. I just wonder if your guilt is motivating you into thinking you need to do this to make amends or something.”

“I have so many issues with so many of the things you just said.”

“I’m serious, Caspian.”

His brow furrows hard. “For starters, I would never even imply I was suggesting we spend time together just so I can get laid. I’m a tad offended. Secondly, you seem to think I’m looking to just date someone. I’m not. I want to date you.”

“Why?” The word falls out of my mouth before it’s properly formed in my brain. “Oh my god, that’s the most irritating thing I’ve ever said. But still, I guess it just doesn’t make sense to me.”

“The fact that you even asked it shows you can’t see what I see, Clara.”

“I swear I wasn’t fishing for an ego boost. Ugh, I’m not explaining myself well,” I say with a groan. I take a deep breath. “I guess I’m trying to tell you that if you think you have to fly over three thousand miles again and again or shuttle me the same way out of guilt, there’s no need. I just did the whole relationship-for-fake-slash-wrong-reasons thing, and I wouldn’t want to get into a situation like that again because you feel like you owe me periodic atonements or something.”

He props himself up on an elbow and looks down at me. “Do you realize how absurd this is? You’re trying to let me off a hook I don’t want to be let off, and I’m trying to delicately beg you to not walk away from the idea of us being an actual us.”

I stare at him for a really, really long time, breathing slowly. “I think we might need to work on our communication skills.”

“I think I have a long way to go before I’ve earned your trust in the things I say.”

I chuckle a little. “So, you’re serious? You want to...what? Do the whole dating, boyfriend-girlfriend thing, but for real this time?”

“If you’ll have me, yes,” he says fervently. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” He brings his hand to my neck and starts running his thumb across my cheek. “Look, it’s a lot to consider regardless, especially after all I’ve put you through. And if you’re not up for it, or it’s more of a question than you’re willing to answer right now, I’ll understand, and no harm, no foul. I came here to see you again, and to try to relieve some of the terrible strain I put on you. That you were willing to hear me out at all, let alone for things to have ended the way they have, is a miracle in the same category as loaves and fishes. I’ve gotten more from this trip, and you, than I ever dreamed, let alone deserved. And if all this has given you some closure, I’m glad for that, and I’m happy to have been given a chance to be a part of you finding it.”

I quickly boost myself up onto my elbow and poke him in the chest. “Look here, mister.” My tone is solid, and the sudden transition is jarring to us both. “I want to be really clear, here. If I were going to do...this? It means doing it in real life. No locking down completely if we have an argument, no turning into Evil Character Cas if you’re upset with me, and never, under any circumstance, are you allowed to hold any of those threats over me again. Ever. For all the rest of time.”

“That’s all more than fair.”

“Overly formal,” I repeat. “But I’m serious. Because a single whiff of that stuff again means you weren’t driven by shame and fear. It means that’s who you really are. And I don’t want to believe that’s the case. I don’t believe that’s the case. I wouldn’t be here right now if I did. I’m choosing to believe the things you said last night, but I like myself way too much to ever allow anyone to treat me as less than an equal human ever again. So, at the first hint that you are going to any of those places, I’m out.”

I’ve expelled my ultimatum reserve and flop back on the pillow, holding eye contact. “Wow, yeah, this is all a little more awkward with the naked thing—it’s true.” I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I know that all probably sounds overly harsh at the moment, but I want to be very clear where I’m at. If I’m going into something with you, I want those cards face up on the table from minute one.”

“I appreciate that,” he says, looking a little pained, but sincere. “I won’t insult you by unleashing a flowery speech of how I swear to you those things will never happen, and that I really am not the person I gave you every indication I was. But if you’re generous enough to offer it, I very much look forward to the opportunity to prove to you through my actions that I was just as horrified by that version of myself.”

“I think I’d like to see that,” I say, taking his hand and planting a quick kiss on his wrist. “All things considered, it wouldn’t suck to see you again. I suppose,” I add with a wink.

His face stays still, but his eyes flash with delight. “Really?”

“Really, Cas.” Grinning, I say, “Charlie did say if I found anything in the units I liked, I should keep it. This feels like a worthy finder’s fee.”

I can see how hard he’s working to control the smile on his face, but he seems to be losing the battle. He bends down and kisses me on the forehead, then pulls me closer until my head is resting on his shoulder and he’s got me snuggled up against him.

Then he reaches down, grabs his phone, and starts intently poking away at it with his one free hand.

“Wow, the romance sure dies quick in these parts,” I say dryly. “Four seconds into it all, and you’re already surfing Facebook while we’re in bed together.”

He gently pokes me in the ribs, and I squeal, unable—and not particularly willing—to wriggle too far away. “I’m not on Facebook,” he says. “I am just—” he stalls for time as he clicks various things with his thumb “—committing to one of those grand romantic gestures, as CiCi calls them.” He pauses for a moment. “Well, what I hope is a grand romantic gesture, anyway.”

“Okay, now you have to share,” I say, excitedly bouncing my feet under the blankets.

“One second,” he says, punching away. “And there we go.”

He turns his phone to me, and I read the screen. “It’s a...flight confirmation in February?”

“It is.”

I frown with confusion and keep reading. “For... Oh my gosh. That’s the morning before Tom and Trina’s wedding. You’re not serious.”

“Very serious. And, to show you exactly how serious, you’ll notice I made sure it’s nonrefundable, yes?”

I laugh. “For someone who is likely richer than God, I’m not sure how impactful that actually is.”

“You’re rather stepping on my gesture,” he says, poking my ribs again.

I squeak and say, “Okay, okay! But that’s almost three months away. Are you sure you want to commit to something that far out?”

“Absolutely. I’ve heard your dress is not to be missed.”

I snap back up on my elbow. “Wait. How did you know when the wedding is?”

“Mama Montgomery. And then CiCi. And then Mama Montgomery again. And then literally every single member of your extended family at the dinner table yesterday.”

I snort and flop back onto his shoulder. “So subtle, these people of mine.”

“I’m rather excited to go,” he says as he reaches over to place his phone on the nightstand and then turns back to me, wrapping both arms tightly around my back. “I quite like your brother and Trina. I look forward to getting to know them better.”

My brain feels a delectable rush of swoon. “That’s really sweet. I know they’d like that, too. Your ability to stop my mother in her passive-aggressive tracks has made you their hero.”

He tilts his head down into my hair, deeply inhales, and lets it out slowly. “I hate to press my luck here, but does this mean you’ve somehow found it in your heart to forgive me?”

I grin into his chest. “I’m thinking about it.”

A breath whooshes out of him in a contented way. “Any thoughts on what might tip the scales in my favor?”

I look up at him and smile. “Tell you what. Find a way to introduce me to David Tennant, and we’ll call it square.”

“Consider it done.”

I start to laugh, but as I replay his words in my head, I notice a glaring absence of a joking tone. “Wait. I’m sorry—what?”

He shrugs and runs his fingers gently down my shoulder. “Dave’s a mate. We play squash. Next time he’s in town, I’ll set up dinner with him and his wife. She’s very charming. I think you’d get on well.”

“Caspian.” I gape. “I was kidding. I wouldn’t actually make my forgiveness conditional on you introducing me to a celebrity.”

“I was just so pleased the condition was something I could so easily check off,” he says into my hair. “Not like you requesting I get a tattoo on my face or similar.”

“Well, damn.” I sigh dramatically. “There goes my actual caveat.” He chuckles for a good long while as he continues to absentmindedly stroke my shoulder. “I can’t believe you play squash with David Tennant. And that you call him Dave.”

“It’s his name.”

I consider that. “Okay, it’s definitely not a condition, especially now that we’ve agreed on the face tattoo, but if it ever comes up, could you please tell him that I think he’s awesome and I’m a huge fan?”

“I know you are,” he says with a grin in his voice. “I remember the T-shirt.”

I push back from him slightly, giving him a confused look. “What t—” A horrific flashback to our first meeting in which I was wearing flying-cat pajama pants and a Doctor Who shirt comes screaming into mental focus. “Uh. That...that was a gift from CiCi. I was just wearing it to be nice.”

“You must be a very, very good friend,” he says, now grinning ear to ear. “Since it looked like you’d worn it several hundred times.”

“Oh god!” I groan, grabbing a pillow from behind his arm and slapping it over my face. I mutter through the down, “Please, oh please, don’t tell David freaking Tennant I have a shirt with his face on it.”

The pillow suddenly disappears. “I tell you what,” he says with a teasing, conspiratorial edge. “I’ll keep this secret of yours if you promise to accept a ticket from me to fly out to visit for a weekend in a few weeks.” He plops the pillow down beside my head. “What say you, Miss Montgomery?”

I issue a tremendous fake gasp. “Why, Mr. Tiddleswich, are you blackmailing me?”

“Ahh, yes,” he says, and laughs. “We’ve now come full circle.”

“Scoundrel.” I click my tongue.

“And don’t you ever forget it.” He moves just enough, until his face is hovering over mine.

“Are you really going to kiss me right now?” I say with a giggle. “That would be soooo cliché.”

“I’ll gladly risk it.”

And he does exactly that.