Wishing Well by Lily White

Author:Lily White [White, Lily]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-04-15T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Penny

Sick to my stomach, I paced my room on the fifth floor, my nails bitten down to the tips of my fingers, my thoughts racing, my heart beating out a frenetic rhythm of self-loathing and warning.

I knew better than to trust Vincent after what he’d done before, but despite all the questions screaming in my head, and all the haunting whispers, I still couldn’t shake the need I had to feel alive again.

I’d been crushed the night of the ball after having flown so high, had felt like I’d crash landed back to the ground when Vincent left without saying goodbye, but then to be dragged through the mud, to have my face shoved into the ugly truth that he didn’t give a damn about me, I’d sworn off every desire I had for the man, choosing to swear off my hopes there could be something .

And yet, he’d returned and he’d found me at the exact moment I’d made a wish while tossing a penny to the bottom of a well. I may as well have tossed myself for as conveniently timed his arrival had been.

It was as if fate had stepped in and shoved all my instincts away to take a seat, front and center, while flashing a sign saying ‘maybe’.

Maybe is such a fucked up word.

No matter how I tried to convince myself that I shouldn’t go up to Vincent’s suite, there was a small part of me lingering in that alcove where he’d dragged me, still melting from the way we’d kissed. It was that part that forced me to get dressed. That part that led me to carefully comb my hair and leave it loose down my back. That part that forced me out the door of my room, down the hall, inside the elevator. It was that part that hit the button marked six.

Like Vincent had said, the elevator doors slid open revealing another set of dark wood doors, intricately carved until the pattern itself was enough to hypnotize. Those doors spoke of money, they spoke of masculine taste, they spoke of the man that would be waiting on the other side for a stupid little girl who hadn’t learned the first time that his interest was mercurial at best.

My choice was to step forward or step back, choosing which side of the elevators doors to be on when they slid closed with a quiet, electronic hiss.

I stepped forward and lifted my hand to knock on the dark wood door, my heart thudding within my chest. Vincent opened the door, his suit jacket missing, his cream colored shirt unbuttoned at the collar, the sleeves rolled up to reveal strong forearms. “I’m glad you came,” he greeted me, the rolling lilt of his voice creating small tremors in my core.

Mouth dry, heart pounding, I didn’t know what to say. Thankfully, he filled the awkward silence. “You should come in. Would you like a drink?”

“I think so,” I muttered, following him on shaky legs. Although we’d spent time together after the ball, it hadn’t felt so professional - so planned.

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