Part of Justin couldn't believe he was in a Seattle cab speeding toward the address he'd gotten from his cousin, Monica. But another part of him couldn't believe he'd managed to wait this long.
It had been a week since Xenia had told him she loved him. A week since she'd rushed abruptly off the computer and ignored his every IM since.
Maybe it was just as well because he hadn't even been sure what he wanted to say, only that he'd hated feeling he'd hurt her, and hated the idea that they might never come into contact with each other again. The more he'd imagined it, the more unthinkable it had become.
He still didn't know for sure about love. He'd never let himself be an emotional guy. His job demanded that he block emotion out, and it had always come easy for him in fact, now that he thought about it, it was probably why he was so good at what he did.
Maybe it was due to his parents' divorce he'd just never believed in monogamy very much after that, that it could work, or maybe that it was even natural. Happy couples seemed
few and far between in his life.
But Xenia's tenderness and the genuine way she'd opened herself to him and put herself at risk affected him in a way he couldn't keep ignoring.
From touching herself on the webcam for him ... to experimenting with a three-way ... to telling him she loved him. He'd never had anyone trust him so very much, and each time it had stirred something deep inside him, made his heart feel like it was bending, stretching, in his chest.
"Thirty-four Woodview," the cab driver said, pulling to the curb in front of a small, quaint if slightly funky looking apartment building
from another era.
Justin glanced toward the front door and, palms sweating, heart racing, realized he was actually nervous an emotion he wasn't very well acquainted with.
He paid the driver, picked up the rose heel laid gently on the seat next to him, and got out, striding boldly to the door and inside. Then
he found the apartment number Monica had also supplied and, without hesitating, knocked firmly, ignoring the doorbell.
When Xenia opened the door, he feared she might faint. Her mouth dropped open and he'd never seen her eyes so wide. "What are you doing here?" Good question. He still wasn't sure. "I just couldn't leave things the way they were, snowflake." Then he held out the flower, a pink rose just beginning to open.
Her eyes dropped to the rosebud and she let out a heavy breath. "How did you know this is my favorite flower?"
He shrugged. "I guess i just know what you like."
Trembling now, she accepted it from him. She stood with her hair falling tousled around her face, wearing a pale yellow strappy top, blue jeans below. Her nipples jutted softly through the fabric. Damn, she was just as beautiful as he remembered, maybe more, and only then, in that moment, did he realize just how stupid he'd been.
He should have come here the day after she'd left Vail, the day he'd realized he missed her so much. He just hadn't known then, or the week after, or the week after ... he hadn't known for sure until right this moment. He loved her.
He loved her so fucking much. Being without her had physically hurt. For the first time since February, he felt happy.
"I have a plan for you," he said. "I think you should move."
Xenia blinked. "Huh?"
"I think you should pack up and move to L.A. with me. I think they should keep solving new mysteries together. And I think they should find their own secret garden. If they can't find one, they should make one."
She blinked again. "Justin . . ." she began uncertainly, her eyes reaching out to him needfully.
And he understood. That he had to just say it. Because she needed to hear it. And he needed to tel her. He didn't even know how to say things like this, but he had to learn right now. "Come to L.A. with me, Xenia. Let me make love to you every night for the rest of our lives. I know it seems sudden, probably risky, but I love you."
