Page 54 of Only After We Met

But when I opened up, it wasn’t the mailman.

There was a young man with messy hair and a lazy smile leaning on the doorframe like he owned the place, as if he knew it like the back of his hand. I felt butterflies in my stomach. He looked at me. I looked at him.

“Happy birthday, Ginger Snap.”

“Rhys…” I could barely speak.

“Try to be a little more enthusiastic.”

“No, dammit, it’s just that… I just didn’t see it coming! Rhys! You’re here!” I reached out and touched him without thinking. I rested my hands on his chest, and he laughed just as I remembered him doing, with crow’s feet in the corners of his eyes. “Rhys!”

I hugged him so tight I was almost hanging off his neck.

And we remained there, breathing, silent, together.

He still smelled like mint. And also like him. Which meant like no one else.

“That’s more like it,” he whispered in my ear, and he pulled away, following me into my room and closing the door. I felt him there, in every corner, between walls I thought would never hold him.

“You caught me by surprise. I mean, I was hoping your gift would come today, and I just assumed it was the mailman when I heard the doorbell ring. If I’d known it was you, I would have combed my hair and gotten dressed. I mean, this is the second time we’ve ever seen each other, and I’m wearing pajamas. With reindeer on them. Donna gave them to me for Christmas a couple of years ago, and… I’m talking too much again. Rhys, please, do something to shut me up. I’m nervous!”

He just smiled, standing in the middle of my room, stroking hischin, and looking at me with his eyes intense, warm, gleaming. “I’m not going to stop you. I missed hearing you talk.”

“You’re…you’re…” I took a deep breath, still confused.

“The best friend in the world, I know.”

He didn’t ask permission as he walked over to what he immediately knew was my side of the room. He could just tell. My heart was pounding as he bent over the desk and looked at everything, curious, calm. Since he wasn’t talking, I watched him, focused on his blond hair, a little longer with a few curls touching his ears; his sun-toasted skin; his gray eyes, looking more intense now that his face was a deeper color. He was wearing pale jeans and a black sweater under his leather jacket. And he had two braided bracelets on his right wrist.

“Let me know when you stop staring at me,” he said.

Then he lay down on the bed. My mini bed. Unmade. On top of the pile of blankets, he laid an arm behind his head, and his sweater climbed up, revealing a few inches of tan skin. He raised an eyebrow as he looked at me.

“You weren’t so arrogant the last time I saw you,” I replied.

“You were just as sexy. Nice pajamas.”

I sat on the bed and observed him. He stopped smiling. I guess it was because he could see how serious I looked after those first few minutes of confusion. I’d only seen him once in my life. Once. Fewer than twenty-four hours. And yet, he knew me better than anyone. He knew everything about my day, my routine, my fears, my worries, my weirdest thoughts. It was crazy. I reached a hand out toward him.

His eyes held my stare.

I touched his cheek.

“I can’t believe you’re here.”

26

Rhys

It was hard for me to believe I was there too. That I’d decided to change routes and make a stop in London on my way to Australia. But I’d done it. The day before, I was standing by the ocean saying goodbye to the city that had welcomed me for months. And now I was there, in her room, in front of the girl who had wound up in my life for reasons I couldn’t fathom. By chance. Over something stupid.

I took a deep breath when I felt her fingertips rub my cheek. Softly. As if she were scared to dare to touch me. I wanted her to keep doing it. I wanted to grab her wrist and pull her close. I wanted to kiss her. Hard. With lust.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked.

“Nothing. Everything. This moment.”

Ginger laughed and pulled her hand back. The bed smelled like her. That entire damned place smelled like her. And all I’d needed was a second to know which side of the room was hers. She stood up with a furrowed brow as she looked in the full-length mirror beside her closet.