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Beautiful Secret

Page 70

   


Those moments where I’m trying to decipher his thoughts? This was one of them. Then it hit me and I wondered if I needed to take his insecurity into account, and clarify that when I said someone, what I meant was him.
But Niall seemed to be ready to take a leap. Leaning forward, he pulled me by the back of my neck so that our foreheads pressed together.
“I’ll try,” he said. “For you, I’ll try.”
TWELVE
Niall
I’d truly never known a woman like Ruby. Instead of needing giant leaps to prove my commitment, over the next week she seemed to revel more in the small things: the pressure of my palm on her lower back while we waited on the subway platform, a lingering glance while queuing for lunch at a street vendor, doing nothing more than kissing for hours at sunrise. But while our physical relationship seemed to have taken a few calming steps backward, she never pressed, and she never asked me to explain myself beyond what I’d told her that night in her hotel room.
I did want to try. Knowing that, she seemed content to simply be near me.
Ruby surprised me in other ways, as well. She was smart, far smarter than I’d initially given her credit for, and absorbed details like it was some sort of superpower. I was a note taker myself, and could usually gather any piece of information needed quickly enough when called upon, but over the following week I was blown away on more than one occasion when a question was posed during a meeting and Ruby would pull the answer seemingly out of thin air. It was truly remarkable.
We fell into a rather easy routine of work and meals, and at night an unspoken ritual of pillow talk in between kisses until we were nothing but mumbles and nonsense and her soft sweet skin curled around me as we fell asleep. It was a flash of a fantasy life—I suspected we both knew it—where we lived in a gorgeous hotel, ate wherever we wanted, and could spend the entire workday as a couple, out in the open, managing quite functionally together.
So it was odd to find myself deep in a Tuesday without having seen Ruby once since she’d left my room early that morning. I’d been in an endless loop of discussions and conference calls to wrap up the first phase of the summit. From here until we left for London, my days would be far more relaxed than they had been, since I would essentially just be on call. I both feared and welcomed it. On the one hand, I wanted more freedom in my daytime hours to ponder everything that was happening between us. On the other hand, I wasn’t sure that I needed more time in my own head thinking about this new relationship, its stark difference to my life before, and how I would manage this abrupt change in my life when we returned to London.
Finally Ruby found me in the hall, talking to one of the city’s head engineers. In my peripheral vision I could see her waiting to talk, and it seemed to me she was practically vibrating where she stood. When I said goodbye to Kendrick and he’d stepped away, she lifted her hand from where she’d hid it behind her back.
Clutched in her fist were two tickets.
“What is this?” I asked, pulling one loose from her grasp.
Bitter Dusk, Bowery Ballroom, 8:30pm March 29.
A concert, scheduled for tonight?
“What is this?” I asked again, looking up at her enormous grin. Surely she didn’t expect me . . .
She turned to start walking toward the lift, pushing the down button. “It’s the concert I was telling you about. By huge coincidence, it is also what we’re doing tonight.”
I winced a little, already imagining a roomful of sweaty bodies, rocking and swaying next to me, pressing into us as loud, screeching guitars assaulted our ears. “Ruby, I really don’t think this is my thing.”
“Oh, it’s definitely not, and it’s every bit as bad as you’re imagining,” she said, tapping my forehead with a laugh. We stepped into the lift, and I was happy to note we’d enjoy this quiet ride alone together.
“Worse maybe,” she continued. “The club is small for such a big band and it’s going to be packed. Sweaty, drunk Americans everywhere. But I still want you to go.”
“I confess I find your sales pitch to be somewhat lacking.”
“I’m going to get you liquored up, because you don’t have to work tomorrow, and,” she stretched up to kiss my chin, “I bet you a hundred dollars you have an amazing time and want to reward me with orgasms afterward.”
“I want to reward you with orgasms now.”
“Consider the concert motivation, then.” She gave me a look, one that I knew said, This is exactly what we talked about. Do this with me.
I sighed in mock annoyance, stepping out after her into the lobby. As much as my skin burned to feel her sliding under the sheets beside me sooner rather than later—and as odd as it was to admit it—it was nice to think about going out. “Will I know a single one of their songs?”