American library books » Romance » Finding London by Ellie Wade (uplifting book club books .TXT) 📕

Read book online «Finding London by Ellie Wade (uplifting book club books .TXT) 📕».   Author   -   Ellie Wade



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don’t know what you’re complaining about. Plus, remember that means I will be getting back right before winter starts the next year, so I’ll make sure to plan all of our reunion dates to be outside.”

“I vote that I’m in charge of all reunion-date planning.”

He grins, and it’s carefree and sexy. Grasping my face in his hands, he says, “I vote that we worry about that in a year and two months. For now, you can tell me all about this Internet sex that you have planned. Or, better yet, you can show me.” His expression is lusty and primal.

His words shoot chills through my body as I draw in a deep breath. My body is instantly needy for him.

“I can do that.” I stare up into his amazing blue depths, immediately lost in my Loïc obsession.

His lips find mine, and I’m so thankful that, out of all the obsessions I could have chosen, I got him. There is no one else I’d rather get lost in.

“You know what I was thinking?” I ask, my limbs once again jelly as they entwine with Loïc’s.

He props himself up on his elbows. “What’s that?” He smiles down to me.

“That we leave this bed today.”

He cocks his head to the side in a distractingly charming way. “Why would we want to do that?”

“I know, right?” I giggle. “I was just thinking that, because it’s Saturday, it might be a good day to meet Maggie. I’ve never even met her. I mean, you’re so close with Paige that you’ve witnessed her in all her bed head and morning-breath glory, and I haven’t even been introduced to one of your best friends. If I had, we wouldn’t have had the drama of last week because I would have known it was Maggie.”

He studies my face, like it’s a puzzle he can’t solve. “You’re right. God, I’m sorry, London. I hope you don’t think I’ve kept you from her like I didn’t want her to see you or anything like that. She knows all about you—obviously. The few times you’ve seen Cooper, she’s been at work. It wasn’t intentional.”

“I know that.”

He reaches for his phone on the bedside table. “Let me text Coop and tell him we want to hang out tonight.” He swipes his phone. “Oh, Cooper sent me a text a few minutes ago, telling me to come home, that he has something to show me. Cool,” he says to himself. He types something out and puts his phone down.

“What’d you tell him?”

“That I’d be home in an hour.”

“Why an hour?”

“So, we can shower first.” He raises a brow.

I throw a pillow at him as I get up. “Hell no. I need a reprieve. I’m going to shower without you.”

“That’s no fun,” he protests. “Fine, we shower together, and I’ll promise to keep my hands to myself.”

“You’d better.” I accusingly point at him. “I’m serious. Shower only.”

He gets out of bed. “You can trust me.”

I huff out a laugh. “That’s what you said the last time.”

“Well, last time, I was lying.” He walks past me into the bathroom in all his naked glory.

I check out his ass some as he passes because, damn, it’s delicious.

“So, you’re not lying this time?” I yell into the bathroom over the sound of the running water.

“Get your ass in here, London. We only have an hour. We wouldn’t want to be late.”

“I hate you.” I giggle as I step into the shower.

“I thought we were working on that flaw?” he asks before his wet hands take my face between them and pull my lips to his.

It’s a glorious fall day, simply beautiful. The sun is shining, casting its warm glow on the trees. The leaves are still on the branches, but they’ve started to change into a kaleidoscope of autumn colors. The breeze blowing through the open windows of Loïc’s truck is warm and soothing as it glides across my skin.

It’s a magnificent day, and I’m incredibly in love. I wonder if I will see the upcoming cold winter differently under my new state of mind. For some reason, I doubt it. Love can only tint my vision so much.

We turn onto Loïc’s street almost exactly an hour after he told Cooper he would be there. My entire body hums with giddy excitement to meet Maggie. I know Loïc doesn’t let many people in, so the fact that he’s so close to Maggie means that she must be a pretty amazing person. I know Cooper is. I hope she likes me.

Who am I kidding? Of course she’ll love me. We’ll become great friends, and then the four of us can double date all the time. It’ll be perfect.

As Loïc’s truck slows, he says, “What the fuck?” under his breath.

I turn to ask him what’s wrong, but I stop myself. His entire body is shaking, vibrating with a deep emotion that I can’t yet decipher.

“Holy shit. Oh my God. Oh my God,” he chants. His knuckles are ghost white as they clutch the steering wheel.

My chest pounds with fear—of what, I’m not sure. But seeing Loïc this shaken is worrying me.

“It can’t be. Holy shit,” he whispers to himself, tears now falling from his face.

“What is it, Loïc? What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t hear me. Instead, he parks the truck with a jerk. His breaths are short and rapid as his chest rises and falls while his tears fall onto his T-shirt.

I finally pull my attention from Loïc and follow his gaze to the front of his house where a girl is sitting on his porch steps. I can’t see the details of her face, but from here, she looks like a Victoria’s Secret model. She seems tall and looks very thin with long, wavy blonde hair.

Loïc is out of the truck before I can even process what’s happening. He runs to her as she lunges toward him with equal fervor. He says something, but I can’t make it out. I quickly exit the truck and watch as she jumps into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. The two of them bury their faces in each other’s neck and cry.

I watch, mesmerized, as their bodies convulse with sobs, each holding on to the other with such passion and commitment. Their arms strain to pull the other in tighter. The sounds of their cries truly break my heart, and I realize that I, too, am crying.

I pull my eyes off of LoĂŻc and the blonde to find Cooper and Maggie on the porch. Cooper has his arm around Maggie as she leans into him, tears rolling down her cheeks. Cooper raises his free hand to wipe the corner of his eye.

My attention falls back to Loïc and the display of utter heartbreak and joy before me. The reunion between them seems so sacred that I feel like I should go somewhere else to give them privacy. Not only do I not have anywhere to go, but I also can’t turn away.

The five of us stay like this for what feels like an hour before Loïc finally releases his death grip on the blonde and starts peppering kisses all over her face. She untangles her legs and lets them fall back to the ground. The two of them stand with their foreheads together. They’re whispering to each other while his hands hold her upper arms, and hers are wrapped around his waist.

Finally, Loïc takes a step back, and I can see the moment when he remembers that I’m here. His body tightens, and his head turns in my direction. His glistening eyes meet mine, and he smiles weakly. He reaches his hand out toward me, inviting me forward. I close the distance between us and put my hand in his outstretched one.

He squeezes my hand in his before addressing me, “This is my Sarah.”

Sarah? I’m sure my eyes go wide when I say, “Sarah?” in complete amazement.

“Yeah, Sarah,” he repeats, his voice equally astonished.

He turns his attention toward her. “Sarah, this is my girlfriend, London.”

She smiles at me, and I return it with one of my own.

“London?” Her brows go up in question as she and Loïc exchange a look.

He chuckles. “I know. What are the odds, right? We have a lot to talk about.”

Well, if that isn’t the understatement of the year.

LoĂŻc

“Hope is the building block for miracles, but it is also the catalyst for disappointment, depending on which way the coin falls.”

—Loïc Berkeley

It’s impossible for me to wrap my mind around my reality at the current moment.

This is reality, right? Not some sick dream designed to completely destroy me?

This is real.

I grasp Sarah’s soft skin in my left hand, and her fingers entwine with mine. She squeezes back.

She’s here. She’s alive.

She’s here. She’s alive.

I repeat these thoughts over and over in my head. It’s still unbelievable. I don’t know how one should respond when someone he loves comes back from the dead, but I’m sure I could be handling it better. I’m one gigantic mess right now.

Driving toward my house minutes ago, I knew it was Sarah before I could even make out her features. The curve of her body and her posture as she sat on my porch steps was so familiar, even from a distance. For the past eight years, I’ve had all the infinitesimal details that made Sarah who she was running through my mind on repeat. Much like I do with my parents and my dad’s stories, I would play the two years that I spent with Sarah over in my mind until each memory was so ingrained in my brain that I could never forget it.

When one loses someone he loves and all that’s left are memories, one makes damn sure he will never forget any of the details, not one. So, I remembered her every single day. I might not have broadcasted my thoughts to the world or even to my one confidant, Cooper, but they were always there for me, in my mind, where I would have mourned her forever.

But, now, she’s here—alive, breathing, real.

It’s the most amazing moment in my life, and at the same time, it’s the worst. Thoughts of the past eight years plague me.

Where’s she been? What’s she been doing? Has she been sad? Alone?

I haven’t been there for her. I left her alone when she was so broken. I shudder as I try to imagine what our time apart has been like for her. I need to get her by herself, so we can talk. There is so much to say, so many questions to ask. More than anything, I just want to hold her and allow her presence to fill me up because, despite getting her back, I feel so lost. My world has been completely thrown off its axis, and I need to find my new normal. I’m off-kilter, and that isn’t a good place for me to be.

I’m reminded of London when I feel her small hand in my right one.

The three of us walk toward the house.

I’m literally holding my past in one hand and my present in the other, and

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