Page 22 of Lost Summer
Each step felt heavierthan the last, and when I finally lifted my hand to knock, I almost choked on my spit.
Fuck! You can do this.
My knuckles rapped against the soft wood, letting the man on the other side know I was here on business.
If he thinks I’m going to throw myself at him and give him his last hurrah before marriage, he’s fucking mistaken.
I waited, the pounding inside my chest louder than any noise in the corridor outside.
Then the door swung open.
Ted—no,Edward—stood in grey jogging bottoms that hung low on his hips, a white T-shirt still clinging damply to his body as the scent of soap and fresh shower steamed from his skin.His eyes—green, deep, unreadable—swept over me, their shock quickly replaced by something more familiar.
Pussy gallops, be still.
The air between us shimmered with unsaid things, the silence loaded and heavy, pressing into the room.
“Good morning,” I said, my voice snapping the tension as though I was here for a simple meet and greet—not a confrontation with an entire decade of lost feelings. I refused to inhale as I passed him, refusing to taste that ‘fuck me’ scent he’s mastered. “I see you didn’t opt for the suite,” I remarked, glancing around the room. It was shockingly normal: a small table in the corner, the door to the bathroom slightly ajar, and the queen-sized bed looming in the middle.
“I like to keep things simple when I can.” Ted’s voice was low behind me. “Thank you for coming.”
I stayed focused on the interview. “If I didn’t come, I’d be sacked,” I snapped, the words sharper than I intended. “Where’s your fiancée?”
“Adele,” Ted sighed, and when he moved closer, I could feel the heat rolling off him in waves. He lowered his voice, the sound vibrating in the small space between us. “I’m sorry, but I knew you’d refuse if I asked outright...and I had to see you. I’m leaving for Hong Kong tomorrow. I couldn’t let things stay like this.”
I swallowed, a sick laugh threatening to bubble up. “Not fair, dragging me here like this, is it?” I gestured harshly around me, the room closing in. “You’re getting bloodymarried,Ted—Edward!Whatever the hell you want to be called these days.”
His eyes glimmered with something deep and unreadable. “Adele...”
He reached out, his fingers brushing against mine, and the hairs on my arm stood up in response. The air between us was thick, charged, and crackling like an exposed live wire threatening to snap.
“We should sit.” He nodded to the bed, his body language casual, but his eyes speaking volumes of the tension vibrating between us.
I cleared my throat, forcing myself to keep my defences tightly in place. I pulled my recorder from my bag and pressed ‘Record,’ the small red light blinking menacingly between us. I took a deep breath to steady myself.
“Let’s start the interview, then,” I suggested, my voice clipped, firm, andbusinesslike. “Thanks for agreeing to this interview, Edward. Where did you meet Elena?”
His face tightened for a moment, then softened into that infuriating half-smile. “Where did I meet Elena?” He leaned back slightly, his eyes locking onto mine. “At a bar, if I remember right.”
I waited, impatiently tapping my finger against the table.
He didn’t elaborate.
“Right. And what did you two do on your first date?” I asked, forcing a professionalism I didn’t fucking feel. Deep inside, I was grappling with things I had no intention of exploring while sitting opposite him.
He paused, scratching the stubble on his jaw. “We...went to the cinema.”
“You think?” I tilted my head and barely held back a smirk. “Sounds romantic. When did you realise you wanted to spend the rest of your life with her?”
He clenched his jaw, his shoulders visibly stiff as he exhaled through his nose. I regretted the question even as I heard the words leave my mouth. But this was my job; I had to do it.
Ted—Edward—dropped his gaze, burying his face in his hands. After a tense pause, he heaved a heavy sigh, his voice breaking the spell again.
“That’s just it, Adele.”
The way he said my name made me want to jump on him, rip the clothes from his back as he shoved me to the bed?—
“I’m not sure I do anymore.”
