“I knew you still had a six-pack,” Elle whispered with a smirk, her fingers grazing the rock-hard muscles of his midsection. Troy eased Elle onto the couch, her legs wrapped around his waist and her pelvis tilted up toward his hips. She was losing herself in him. With every kiss, every touch, every moan, lick, and nibble, she was completely lost in Troy Saladino.
“God, I want you,” Troy murmured into her ear, his hand cupping her breast, the tips of his fingers squeezing her supple skin. “I didn’t realize how much I’d missed you.”
She’d missed him, too. Far too many years had gone by, too many moments without one another, too many soured memories filled with heartache and remorse. As much as his touch made her body come alive, her brain was turning on her as she processed his words.
He didn’t realize?
Elle had spent ten years missing Troy. She was so fully aware of her heartbreak that she created an outlet in which to deal with her grief. And he was just now realizing how much he missed her in return? Elle broke their kiss, pushing her hand into his chest.
“Wait, what? You didn’t realize? But you said you watched the show, you read the books . . . I don’t get it—”
“I just meant . . . you know.” Troy eased himself to a seated position on the couch. The expression on his face turned from lustful to guilt-ridden. “I was bitter and I didn’t want to admit it to myself. I walked away, I made a choice. If I admitted to myself I missed you, then where would I have been?”
“Miserable.” Elle sniffed, holding back tears. “Just like me.”
“I never wanted that—for you to be miserable. You have to believe me. I thought I needed a fresh start.” Troy tucked some crazy, loose hair behind Elle’s ear. His touch was comforting yet perplexing.
“And now?” she asked, her heart completely exposed with that question. She was giving Troy control, allowing him to squash her heart once and for all.
“I’m not sure.”
Elle bit her lip and closed her eyes, accepting the honesty of his answer. After all, she could relate to his response. She herself was torn between two men. If Troy asked her to choose right then and there between him and Luke, she wouldn’t be able to make that choice.
Troy continued before she could respond. “I have to be honest. Part of me wants to steal you away from the rest of the world. Make a new home, start over together, leave everything behind, ya know?”
“And the other part?” Elle deadpanned, bracing herself for the brutally honest answer she knew would leave his lips. She knew it was coming.
“The other part wishes you’d never showed up at my restaurant.”
“But you knew I lived here. You watched the show, you read the books. You knew I was here.”
“I was here first.” He swallowed hard, his eyebrows arched. Elle knew he wasn’t trying to be cruel; he was just stating the facts. He moved here with Payton long before her show was picked up by the network.
“Doesn’t part of you wonder if it was all serendipitous? I mean, what are the chances of us both being here . . . in California?”
“Is that why you’re here? Because you think this is fate or something?” Troy looked annoyed with her, like she was foolish or silly for believing in such things. Yes, it went against her nature. Normally, she believed strongly in having control whenever possible. Leaving her heart and future to fate was completely out of her comfort zone. But when it came to Troy, most things were. He pushed her, challenged her like no one else.
“Would that be so terrible? To think all of this was somehow meant to happen? That we weren’t ready for each other in our twenties? That maybe we just needed more time?”
“No,” he answered, his voice impassive. “No, it’s not terrible. But I don’t think you can absolve yourself like that.”
“Absolve myself?” Elle said, her voice rising. She stood, grabbed her sweater from the floor and returned it to her body. She paced the room as she struggled to find the right retort. But her mind was blank. “I’m not trying to absolve myself of anything!”
Troy pushed his palms into his knees, rising to his feet to stand opposite Elle. “I didn’t mean it like that. God, I just—” He looked up at the ceiling, running his fingers through his hair. “How did we get here, Rigby? How did we go from that chapel in Vegas to this? I can’t wrap my mind around it. Still . . . after all this time.”
“I ask myself that same question every single day.” She pressed her eyes tight. “The answer is . . . I have no idea.”
Troy pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her as she pressed her forehead to his chest.
“I’m not ready to give up,” Troy said, his voice gravelly and deep. Elle knew he was holding back tears. “Not yet.”
“Good.” She wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I’m not either.”
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe it is fate.”
“Don’t patronize me,” Elle said.
“I mean it. Neither of us had any intention of letting our guard down, of taking that leap. Maybe fate had to intervene, to bring us together again.”
“Maybe.”
They stood for several minutes, locked in a comforting embrace. Just as Elle was about to excuse herself, call it a night, and escape the confusion of his apartment, a familiar song came through the small iPod speaker.
“Here, There and Everywhere.”
The song that always reminded Troy of her. The song to which she’d walked down the aisle. Her eyes locked with his.
“You still listen to this song? I thought you’d have banished it from your playlists a long time ago.”
Troy brushed her bangs from her eyes. “Never.”
A weak smile of relief crossed her lips. Troy cupped her face with his hands and kissed her. It was a gentle, soft kiss, but one filled with the depths of emotion they were both feeling. Without realizing it, they began to dance to the music. Their feet took small steps back and forth on the carpeting below, their hips swaying ever so slightly to the song. As confused as Elle was in Troy’s arms, she was eager to know what fate had in store for them.
While they danced, Troy’s phone rang. Instinctively, Elle pulled away, allowing him to answer it. Instead, Troy pulled her closer. “Let the machine get it.”
Elle eased herself back into Troy’s embrace, until a familiar voice came through.
“Hey, Troy, it’s Amanda. Listen, I have a doctor’s appointment on Wednesday afternoon, so I need to bring Payton a little early. Let me know if I should bring her to the restaurant or to your place.”
Elle’s jaw dropped and her hands stiffened around Troy’s forearms. She couldn’t believe her ears. Her mind was racing. No, Payton’s mother couldn’t possibly be . . .
“Amanda?” Her name was like venom on her lips.
“Rigby, I—”
“Amanda Bauer? From college? Are you kidding me right now?”
Troy pursed his lips and nodded. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, it’s just—”
“You knew I’d be pissed.”
“Yeah.” Troy rubbed his neck and shrugged.
Elle paced the length of Troy’s living room. Her muscles tightened and her hands balled into tight fists. “So, after Vegas, you went back to her? Again?”
“I told you, it was a rebound. It meant nothing.”
Elle returned to the couch, pressing her forehead into her hands. Sweat grew on her forehead, her arms, her neck, and the room began to spin. “I can’t believe this.”