Page 96 of Spin Control

“I’m just looking out for you. Lactose can be a real bitch.”

I laugh, and accept that I am actually awake. “Deal.”

We go from the plane to the black sedan that’s waiting for us on the tarmac and are soon deposited at the back entrance of a hotel, where we’re greeted by a straight-backed doorman and a smiling woman who hands us cups of fragrant, glorious coffee.

“Thank you so much,” Étienne says, as I drawl, “You are a literal goddess.”

The woman smiles, and then we’re whisked inside by security and directed to a service elevator. After I’ve taken a revitalizing gulp of my delightfully sweet coffee, I ask, “Where the hell are we?”

“Outside of Verona,” Étienne says.

“As in Shakespeare?”

“As in Italy. But yes, also Shakespeare. It’s always such a delight when you remind me you’re cultured.”

One of the security guys tries to muffle his laugh by passing it off as a cough, but he is in no way successful. “It’s not like you have to be a prince to read Shakespeare.”

“He says as if he wasn’t raised by Harvard professors,” Étienne quips.

When the elevator doors open, Étienne’s security guys exit first, sweeping the hallway, before motioning for us to follow. Soon, we stop in front of a door and Étienne takes my coffee. “You should knock.”

My heart pounds in anticipation as I step up and rap my knuckles against the door. It opens only a breath later and the second my gaze meets navy blue, I fall to my knees.

“Elizabeth,” I exhale, wrapping my arms around her hips and burying my face in her stomach.

I feel her sink down to the floor, and then she’s right in front of me, her hands on my face.

“I’m here,” she says. “We’re both here.”

“I was so fucking scared.”

I’ve been compartmentalizing my fear and anxiety, refusing to let it overwhelm me. But I don’t have to do that anymore.

It’s really over.

“You did so well, Wes.” Elizabeth’s voice is low in my ear, this conversation for only the two of us. “You were so brave. Every move you made was the right one.”

I choke back a sob as I bury my face in her shoulder, holding her tighter.

“You were perfect,” she whispers. “No one could have done better.” Then her lips find mine and my entire world narrows to us.

She breaks the kiss far sooner than I’d like, and when I chase her mouth, she breathes a laugh. “There are some other people here who want to say hello to you.”

Right. We’re on the floor. In a doorway. I look into the suite and my eyes widen in surprise. “Jane?”

I stand and reach out a hand to help Elizabeth up, but she, unsurprisingly, rises to her feet without assistance.

“Hi, Wes,” Jane says, her voice warm. Elizabeth and I move into the room along with Étienne, while the security team stays outside. I make quick work of introducing Jane and Étienne—and then I hear an impatient sigh from behind me.

It’s one I would know anywhere.

Stas is seated on a couch, looking amused, perturbed, and bored all at once. Tears fill my eyes once again, and Stas says, “No. You can fall to your knees, but I cannot abide crying.”

“Don’t be a dick to me today,” I say, laughing as I cross the room. He does nothing to stop me from embracing him.

“You’re okay?” I ask.

“Yes,” he says. “It’s good to see you.”