“Eric?” he asks, his tone more stunned than I’d ever thought possible of the stalwart man. “Morgan? What the hell is happening right now?”
Chapter 21
Eric
Slowly, I lower the beautiful woman in my arms back to the floor though I keep my arms tangled tight around her waist to prevent her from going too far. She seems just as keen to stay close to me, her head resting on my shoulder as she melts into me. She fits just as perfectly into my arms as she had on that night.
I just barely register my best friend in the hall, his head shaking slowly back and forth. Donovan, who still looked absolutely puzzled, slowly eases by us to wrap Chloe in a tight hug before pressing a kiss to her waiting lips. Then he turns back toward me and this beautiful woman who I can’t seem to tear my eyes from.
Donovan clears his throat. “Eric. Morgan. You two know one another?” he asks with uncertainty.
“We met at his show,” Morgan answers with a laugh before suddenly sucking in a sharp breath.
Her eyes, which had been brimming with delight, now suddenly darken. She whirls on me, half pulling away though I instinctively tug her back into my arms. She doesn’t resist, though her gorgeous smile melts into a slow frown.
“You’re Eric?” she asks with a suddenly wounded tone. “The Eric. The jerk who stood me up for our blind date? If you had come then we would’ve been reunited sooner!”
I flinch, abruptly realizing that my angel had been waiting all that time for me to show up and I’d blown it.
“He would’ve come,” Chloe interjects while I’m struggling to answer, “but he was just so hung up on this beautiful girl he met at his concert that he didn’t want to go out with anyone else.”
“Is that true?” Morgan asks softly.
I nod, biting my lower lip hard. “I was . . . I am . . . still hung up on you. All I’ve wanted these last few weeks was to track you down. It’s been killing me knowing I let you walk out of my life.”
“He was a real hot mess,” Donovan smirks.
“Yes, we’ve established I have problems,” I grumble at him, playfully glaring over Morgan’s head.
Morgan. What a beautiful name for a beautiful angel. My angel.
Her cheeks turn a beautiful shade of pink, a pink that reminds me of wild roses and sweet cotton candy and delicate silk. She is so entirely beautiful that it hurts to look at her, and every time I blink, she only grows more intoxicating.
I realize with a start that she’d been preparing to leave when I showed up. Had I stopped to grab a coffee or wallow in my sadness over losing the agents at the Lancaster Stadium show, I would have missed her entirely. I would’ve shown up at Donovan’s to apologize and then gone home to eat Chinese takeout all alone while trying to keep up my resolve not to drink.
The thought makes me shiver. The world is both cruel, and randomly generous. As luck would have it, I now stand here with the woman of my dreams in my arms, the taste of her kiss still on my tongue. It’s a taste I want to savor forever.
I know it’s crazy to be thinking in terms of forever when Morgan and I only just learned each other’s names, but I can already tell that she is the one.
My one.
It’s impossible not to feel like our chance meeting is more than blind luck.
It feels like it’s destiny . . . like fate.
There has to be some greater force in the universe that made our paths cross like this. Whatever that might be, I will be eternally grateful for it.
It’s true that if I’d shown up the other night at La Folie, Morgan and I would have been reunited, but I still would’ve been a disaster—the walking embodiment of a ticking time bomb. I’d still be drinking too much and avoiding my issues. Instead, I had that horrible night and the conflict with Donovan that I still have to apologize for. It was awful, but I’m strangely grateful for it.
That night, I hit rock bottom and I learned a lot about myself in the process. I’d like to think it was fate that kept us apart until I was ready to appreciate this beautiful woman in my arms to the fullest extent. I feel now that I am more worthy of her time and her heart. That may not have been the case had I found her earlier.
I turn to her, cupping her face with my good hand. I gaze wholly into her loveliness. Her eyes shimmer, a blue so clear that I can see all the way to her soul, which is just as beautiful as the rest of her. “I want to take you out on a proper date, Morgan,” I say softly, savoring the way it feels to finally say her name. “I know that I don’t deserve it after losing your number and standing you up the other night, but it would make me beyond happy to get a second chance with you—”
“Yes!”
I’d been prepared to grovel and beg for a second chance, but before I can even get that far, she throws her hands up into the air with vigor and nods.
“Yes!” she cries again smiling so bright it stops my heart. “I would love that, Eric.”
I wrap her up in my arms again, my heart soaring so high that I feel like I’m walking on air. Every other problem in my life feels so insubstantial now that I’ve found Morgan. With her by my side, I feel like I can handle anything.
I tip her chin, greedily stealing kiss after delicious kiss while we cling to each other.
Chapter 22
Morgan
As though it was the most natural thing in the world, Eric reaches for my hand as we walk side-by-side. He looks both ways across the busy street, waiting for a break in the traffic before dashing across with me clutched close to his side, his laughter like music in the air.
His strong fingers remain locked tightly around mine, making me feel more secure and safe than I think I have in my entire life. Just the feeling of holding his hand is enough to make my breath lodge in my lungs.
I can’t help the wide smile that spreads slowly across my face or the pink flush of my cheeks. I can’t believe I still feel this way after two weeks with him. The newness hasn’t worn off and I have a feeling it won’t. I smile at him and he kisses the back of my hand. The gesture floods me with nostalgia. It’s something my mother used to do.
When I was a little girl and I missed my mom, I used to hide in the attic of our house in Kansas and dream of my future. I dreamt of being a model in some exotic place—glamorous and carefree, just like the gorgeous girls who graced the magazines we used to look at. I kept them stashed in the attic so I could flip through the pages and feel closer to my mom. I dreamt of how proud she’d be if my face one day was on the covers of those same magazines. And I dreamt of the handsome man who would be at my side through it all.
Even though my modeling aspirations haven’t quite met what I thought they would, the man by my side is even more perfect than I ever could have envisioned, and I wouldn’t trade him for all the success in the world.
Being with Eric is like being on the most thrilling roller coaster of my life. That feeling of my stomach in my throat is constant, making me dizzy in the most delightful ways. I only wish my mom could meet him and see how happy he makes me.
In the warm sunlight, his dark eyes are dappled with silver flecks that make me lose my breath. He pulls me against his waist so his arms can slide around my hips, his fingertips lightly brushing over my curves. It’s another beautiful afternoon just like the first day he brought me here.