Page 70 of The Moon & His Tides
“Good?” Adam asked her, adjusting her underwear to cover her properly and then lightly tapping her groin like she was a good girl deserving of a pat on the head.
Savvy licked her lips as she gathered herself and nodded.
I drove the car forward again, grateful for the tinted windows enclosing us in privacy as we arrived as close to the start of the carpet as I could get us.
“Good luck tonight,” I said as I twisted to smile at them both. “I hope the world is right, and you win tonight, Adam.”
“I’m going home with my gorgeous wife to you, so I believe the night will end well either way,” Adam promised, but he reached out to squeeze my shoulder and then handed me the remote to the vibrator. “Have fun with her for me.”
I grinned. “I will.”
We both hesitated for a moment, leaning toward each other, and I knew he wanted to kiss me by the way his green gaze settled on my mouth. I wanted it too, hungered for it like I hadn’t eaten in weeks, but this was definitely not the time nor place, even with the blacked-out windows.
“Good evening, my handsome Sebastian,” Savannah said, pushing Adam back to place a hand on my cheek in farewell. “Go easy on me.”
“Never,” I promised wickedly just to hear her laugh.
A moment later, Adam opened the door, and the cacophony of screaming and shouting fans and photographers spilled into the interior. Savannah waited for him to get out and round the car to open the door before she slid out, taking his hand. I watched as they moved amid the crowd of cars and bodies until I lost sight of them to the red carpet, and then, heart oddly lodged in my throat, I inched out of the drop-off line and into London traffic once more.
My fingers drummed against the wheel as I followed the route home on autopilot, more preoccupied with the angstseizing my chest than with driving. I told myself this evening was a good reminder of my reality, that I shouldn’t pin my hopes on an impossible dream. Somehow, it didn’t alleviate any of the hollow pain behind my breastbone.
So I was startled out of my mind when a pebble hit the windshield just as I waited for the automatic gates to open to the Meyers’ house. It had started to rain, which wasn’t surprising given it was England and springtime, but it seemed to have caught the girl currently drowning in the downpour off guard because she was only wearing drenched denim and a tiny cropped tee.
I opened the window to say, “Linnea? What the bloody hell are you doing out here in the rain?”
“Waiting for you!” she called back. “Can I come in?”
I jerked my chin up before I could think about it, inviting her into the car before I pulled down the drive. She jogged forward instantly, her wet masses of hair slapping against her back. When she opened the passenger door, the scent of rain and something fresh and somewhat briny like ocean water spilled into the car.
“Hey,” she said, turning to face me once she was settled, raindrops rolling down her face into her broad smile. “What’s up?”
I laughed, shaking my head as I pulled forward. “I just dropped the Meyerses off at the BAFTAs. What areyoudoing here?”
She shrugged one bony shoulder. “Miranda is there, too. I figured you’d be alone, and I liked hanging out with you that one time.”
I blinked at her as I parked, a little thrown by her boldness. “So you thought you’d just show up?”
“Do you mind? I didn’t have your number, and you’re the closest person to my age I know in London. I’m sick of hanging out with Miranda’s old cronies.”
I swallowed my laughter, thinking about how Savannah would react if she heard Linnea say something like that about her age cohort. It was strange to think that Linnea was closer in age to me than Savannah was when I felt so connected to the latter.
Linnea’s fresh youthful attitude was endearing, but it made me feel… older in a way that ached. Savannah’s maturity was a balm to me, steadfast and knowing like none of my secrets or shame would taint her because she already had a wealth of her own.
“Sure,” I decided impulsively because my only plans for the evening had been to wallow at the carriage house and occasionally flip on the vibrator remote just to know Savannah was squirming across the city from me. “What did you want to do?”
She shrugged again, but the move wasn’t as casual as she wanted it to be because she was wiggling too much in her seat like there was too much energy inside her bones. “I don’t know. What do you usually do for fun around here?”
I play sex games with the married couple I work for.
Somehow, I doubted that was the answer she wanted to hear.
“Honestly, not much. I’m usually too busy working.”
She frowned at me, fingers drumming on her soaked jean-clad thigh. “How long have you been in town?”
“Since August.” A few weeks after my birthday when Cosima had left for Milan. Suddenly, I missed her with the acuteness of a bullet through my chest. She would have loved Linnea’s vibrancy and matched it with her own. She would have made this dreary British night brighter just with her presence.
“If you’re so busy with work, have you had time to do any of the really touristy things?” she demanded, brow cocked and arms crossed. “Because if you haven’t been to the top of the London Eye or seen Madame Tussauds, then you might actually be deported.”
