Page 54 of Bombshell

“Oh, maybe we shouldn’t…”

Aja shakes her head. “It’s good for the horses. I can pack a picnic, if you’d like.”

“I don’t think we’ll be gone that long,” I say before the others can agree. “We have to break Cyrus in slowly.”

The conversation devolves into each of us telling embarrassing stories from our youth. The kind of stories only old friends can have.

When we finally head to bed, I’m bone-tired and my friends are drunk. We reach the back of the house and Poppy frowns.

“Aja put me in that one.” She points to a cottage on the opposite side of the property from where The Bookery is. “And Cyrus by you, so, I guess this is a good night to you both.”

“How will she know?” Cyrus asks sloppily, grabbing her around the waist and trying to haul her toward the other side where him and I are staying.

“Oh, she’ll know!” Despite the fact that her blood is probably more wine than water at this point, she sounds horrified.

“Good night!” I call, deciding to leave them to decide if they’re going to break the rules.

This far from the city, the stars puncture the darkness—bright and unmistakable. I find myself looking for constellations as I amble back to the cottage, daring to gently rub my stomach as I imagine what it will be like to point into the night sky to show my child where each constellation shines overhead. Rocks crunch behind me and I drop my hand, breaking the spell. A moment later, Cyrus joins me, hands shoved in his pockets.

“You’re alone,” I say.

“Don’t remind me.” He shakes his head, tossing an annoyed glance behind him. “We should have stayed in a hotel.”

“And miss this?” I murmur.

He glances up and shrugs. “We have stars in Valmont. We didn’t need to come here to see that.”

“I guess you’re right,” I say, thankful we’ve reached my cottage. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Why did you come here?” Cyrus asks as I reach for the knob.

“Here? You two dragged me.”

“To London?” he clarifies. “You didn’t even finish the semester.”

“It was too good of a chance to pass up,” I say smoothly, the lie having become second nature at this point.

“It had nothing to do with him?”

No one’s questioned my decision to leave Valmont. After the video, my father seemed eager to put me on a plane and get me as far away from Sterling as possible. A bit too eager, honestly. The longer time passes the more I see it for what it was. He saw a chance to seal Sterling’s fate, and he took it. I’d played into his hands. But coming to London was my move. I shake my head. “I have my reasons.”

“Then you’re over him?” Cyrus’s words slur a bit, and he stumbles back a step.

“Go to bed,” I tell him. “You don’t need to worry about Sterling and me. It’s over. I’m fine.”

“You’re lonely,” he counters. “I can see it.”

“I know what Poppy thinks, but—”

“It’s what I think. I’ve known you a long time,” he says. “I know when you’re hurting.”

“Okay, I will be fine. Eventually. But seriously, you don’t have to worry about me,” I say.

“But I do worry. Adair, I…” He trails away, turning his head to look toward the darkened house. “Do you want to talk?”

“You should stick to whiskey, Cy. Wine makes you a bit emotional,” I advise him. I turn the knob and open the door a crack. “I just want to go to bed.”

“Yeah, me, too.” He takes his hands out of his pockets and steps toward me. I expect him to hug me, him being too drunk to remember how much I hate that, and I brace myself. Then his mouth is on mine.