Page 7 of When Forever Comes

“Who did he kick out to give us this room?” I ask.

“I dunno…”

I stomp my way back to the bedroom and pick up the Bible from the nightstand. My Bible houses some of my most intimate prayers and pleas, so I do my best to respect the owner’s privacy, and keep it closed, not checking to see if there is a name inside. After tucking it safely under my arm, I march my way to the elevator and step in the moment the doors open.

“Where are you going?” my sister asks, sounding panicked.

“I’m not staying in someone else’s home.”

I punch the L button for Lobby.

“But W said—”

I cut her off. “W is exactly who I plan on confronting.”

With that, the doors close and I descend to the bottom floor.

THREE

OLIVIA

The doors open once I reach the correct floor. My head is down watching my feet move across the marble floor as I work through my thoughts. After two quick strides, I slam into a wall of muscle.

My cheeks heat at my snafu. I look up and open my mouth to apologize to the stranger, but snap it closed when I see who it is.

“Olivia.” He makes my name sound like a plea.

“W,” I say curtly, straightening my spine. “Just the man I was coming to see.”

He rubs the scruff on his face and smiles. “Funny, I was heading up to the penthouse to apologize for my abrupt departure.”

I take a couple of steps back and narrow my eyes. “Really?”

He dips his chin. “Yes.”

“I’m not the one you should apologize to.”

He has the gall to look confused.

“If it’s not you and your sister I should apologize to… then who?”

“The person you removed to give us a place to stay just so we wouldn’t leave your resort a bad review.”

“I didn’t remove anyone.” He looks to the side, almost as if he’s deciding if he should say his next words. “That’s where I live. That’s my home.”

“What? Why would you give up your place for two strangers?”

He licks his lips. “You don’t remember me at all, do you?”

“So Idoknow you!” I exclaim, lifting the Bible and shaking it.

W’s eyes widen before he snatches the book from my hand and tucks it under an arm. The shock in his eyes is replaced with something new, yet not unfamiliar. It’s then that it hits me.

“West. Full name Weston Lockwood, best drum major Emerald High ever had and—”

He interrupts me. “Invisible to the world.”

“You know you weren’t invisible to me,” I say, my heart fluttering at the admission. My fingers itch to touch the stubble on his chiseled jaw to see if it’s as soft as it looks. The last time I saw him, West barely had peach fuzz. He looks so different with his rugged scruff than he did as a teenager.

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