Contents ( 30)
- Connect with Meghan
- Contents
- Prologue
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Epilogue
- Excerpt - A Long Time Coming
- More Books by Meghan
The lobby is transformed from a bleak, cold space to a bright and modern aesthetic with her slat board lobby desk, potted, leafy ficus plants, and then paint accents that make the concrete feel oddly warm.
“Wow, Myla.” I take the computer from her to get a closer look. “This is . . . this is incredible. I like the natural colors you used. Pulling in that sage color warms the place up and makes it not so cold and dreary. The desk is clearly the focal point, and the computers on the wall behind it are really fucking cool.”
“Thank you. I really love it. And like I said, I know it would be a long shot to get picked, but it’s something cool to place in my portfolio that I’ve been building for a bit now.”
“You have more?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
“Can I see them?”
She glances at me and says, “Are you sure this isn’t boring you?”
I shake my head. “No, babe, not at all. I really want to see them.”
Her smile stretches from ear to ear, filling me with joy because that’s the smile I fell in love with. It’s utterly beautiful. Relaxed. Carefree. My Myla’s. “Okay, let me pull them up.”
* * *
“Hold on, where did you go?” I ask Myla as we sit across from each other at dinner. We opted to have dinner together, just the two of us, in the balcony restaurant that overlooks the vineyard. Not sure how I scored the table, but it seems like someone was watching over me.
We spent most of the day looking over her portfolio with her explaining everything that went into them. I listened. I asked questions, and I was fucking amazed. She’s brilliant. When it came to lunch, we both decided to take a walk to the pool, where we ate poolside and hung out with Huxley and Lottie while JP and Kelsey went over last-minute wedding preparations.
After lunch, we walked the vineyards hand in hand and talked about the night of the steak and shriveled potatoes. I admitted that it tasted like absolute garbage, and she admitted that she took extra long eating hers so she could rub it in my face.
We both laughed.
And when we got back to the hotel room, I asked her if she wanted to take a nap since we barely got any sleep the night before. She said yes, and she cuddled into me the entire time.
It’s been . . . fuck, it’s been eye-opening. I can’t remember the last time we had a day like this, where it was just us, nothing going on but doing what we felt like. I’ve been so focused on making sure that I prove myself to . . . fuck, who knows, that I’ve forgotten how to relax. Not to mention, I’d forgotten how perfect Myla is for me. How spending time with her used to be my solace. My joy. How did I lose sight of that? Of her?