Page 4 of Lessons In Love
I look at Myles, my eyebrows drawn together, wondering what they’re talking about.
“Are you going for a case?” I ask, trying to seem interested.
Jonas snickers.
“No. We’re going. One month from tomorrow. I’ve already cleared it with your boss. Happy anniversary, baby.”
“Seriously?” I squeal, jumping up from my seat and moving around the table to hug him. Myles pulls me down into his lap, kissing me deeply, not giving two fucks that we have company.
“Seriously. I couldn’t make the time until then, so it’ll be a little late, but better late than never, right?” He grins and it makes him look far younger than his thirty-six years. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jonas stand, motioning for Sarah.
“Well, buddy, we’re gonna get out of your hair. Looks like you have some celebrating to do. Don’t throw your back out. No calling in sick—we have lots of work to do tomorrow.” Without another word, they walk to the door, leaving Myles and me to celebrate one year together.
*****
After celebrating for several hours, I leave Myles snoring loudly in our bedroom, moving to my cluttered desk in the small alcove of the living room. The blueprints sit there, calling for my attention, but I can’t focus right now. I grab my laptop, taking it with me to the couch, and settling in to skim social media.
Looking at trending interior designs—shuddering internally at the dizzying color and pattern combinations that influencers are raving about this season—I hear a ding. Opening Facebook in a new tab, I grin when I see my best friend’s name highlighted with an unread message.
Aria left for college in England after we graduated high school. Though we alway kept in touch—she’d come home to visit her parents and I even visited her once during my spring break—we didn’t have a lot of time together until she moved back home to accept a professorship three years ago.
Aria:OMG girl, you’ll never guess who I just saw!
Delaney:Tom Cruise?
Delaney:David Harbour?
Delaney:No, wait… Colin Farrell. No way you getthatexcited over someone who isn’t a sexy Irishman.
Aria:Better. Or worse, depending on how you take it, I guess.
Delaney:That’s not ominous at all, Ari.
Aria:Lachlan Romero!
My heart sinks reading his name, and it takes me a minute to respond.
Aria:Dells? You there?
Delaney:Yeah. I’m here. Wow. I haven’t thought about him in…
Aria:Yeah...
Aria:I wonder what he’s doing back in town.
I don’t respond—can’t—and we silently agree to let it drop, changing the subject to her woefully unprepared students and my upcoming trip to the Dominican Republic, all the while, memories of that night run through my head.
TWO
DELANEY
The Ericson building is in an up-and-coming part of Miami, down by the docks. Until a few years ago, it was dodgy, but gentrification has revitalized the area and made it a desirable location. Todd Ericson, the man responsible for the majority of the restoration, has decided to leave his mark on the docks—now known as New Hope Wharf—by erecting a towering office complex that will forever change the city skyline.
I’ve been down here several times over the last few months, still always on guard as I weave between dilapidated buildings undergoing renovation and new construction, to make my way to the site.
There are a few old dock buildings that still receive cargo from time to time, the owner refusing to sell to developers. The family who owns those buildings has long held power in the seedy underbelly of the city, operating with questionable morals and actions, their exploits used as a cautionary tale to keep the local children in line.
My heart rate spikes for a different reason when I think of that family—heartbreak. The Romeros—Lachlan’s family—have been here for years, and I knew all the stories surrounding them before I even met Lachlan. Despite knowing what I did about his family, I couldn’t stay away. I wanted him. He was that bad boy with a sweet spot. He walked me quietly from class to class, but never tried to take it too far.
