For Both Are Infinite (Hearts in London Book 1) (6 page)

“Yeah.”

“May I accompany you?” he asked.

I couldn’t exactly refuse his charming gesture.

Aaron and I moved in together just after college graduation, so it had been years since I’d been walked home. Walking by Rhys’ side was surreal, not because of his fame, but because a man was escorting me. I’m sure any other woman in my place would be star-struck or fan-girling, but I was flushed for entirely different reasons.

Thankfully, my flat wasn’t too far from the park so I had escape close by. I slipped my tank back on as we walked, sensing his obvious disappointment, convinced he'd been enjoying the view. We crossed the street in matching pace before he initiated conversation again. “Can I ask a few questions?”

"Sure."

“Why London?”

“It was somewhere I had always wanted to live. It was also the easiest transition as far as language and culture goes, plus it’s only six hours from home, but a train ride everywhere else.”

“Is this situation the reason you don’t want to go home?”

“Basically. It’s a pity fest and while I appreciate people caring, it’s hard to move forward and be mildly normal when it’s a constant pouring of emotions. I Skype my parents and friend, Anne, often though.”

“I got the impression you disliked them since you mentioned you don’t go home often.”

“No, I love them. They got me through the hardest setback. It was dark there for a while and they did everything for me: they cleaned out our apartment, helped his parents with funeral arrangements, everything. I just can’t hide out when I’m home, so it’s easier hiding here.”

“I get it,” he nodded, pressing his faint pink lips into a contemplative line.

Hearing those three simple words made me glad to have told him, and it was freeing, a sensation I didn’t expect. I’m sure he felt similar relief in understanding more pieces of my puzzle. It was natural with him, and as we neared my place I forced myself to tell him before I could chicken out.

“I’m glad you know now, it makes it easier. I didn’t think it would.”

Rhys looked over to me with smiling eyes. “That makes me so happy. I’m glad you’re comfortable talking about it with me, truly.”

He looked forward suppressing a small smile, and I started believing that Rhys and I could be friends despite my previous judgment. We got to my building a few minutes after that, and I wrestled with myself. I didn’t want him to come up; my apartment was my sanctuary, but I also didn’t want him to leave. He leaned closely to me, a little too close and looked down into my eyes endearingly.

Grabbing both my shoulders he said, “I know it’s hard to open up, but I’m glad you told me.”

“Me too,” I said, strangely meaning it.

He hugged me briefly, causing me to remember how sweaty I was, and I prayed I didn’t smell. Pulling away he added, “I’m sorry, I have to go. I’m meeting my mum for lunch, but I’m looking forward to Tuesday. See you then?”

“Definitely,” I smiled.

He started backing away, but upon seeing my smile he matched mine, touching it quickly with his fingertip. “It’s nice to see you smile.”

I stopped, self-conscious from his compliment and unsure how to respond. It was so similar to how Aaron had touched my lips years ago. Sensing my unease, he put his hand on my shoulder again and added, “I hope to see it more. See you next week.”

I’d ashamedly obsessed over Rhys all night, thinking back to how clear things were with him, how open he was to my honesty. It felt wrong to be thinking of him, but it was hard not to when I remembered the way he had fully accepted me. The way he’d understood me. I went to bed hoping to avoid thoughts of him, but it was pointless because he texted me as I lay in the dark.

Rhys: Thanks for trusting me today.

I answered immediately, fearful that he would think I was ignoring him again.

Me: Thank you for making it easy. Glad we “ran” into each other.

Rhys: Are you running again before Tuesday?

I smirked, knowing exactly why he was asking. Playing coy I responded vaguely.

Me: I guess we’ll just have to see.

Rhys: Okay, I’ll keep an eye out. :)

I was smiling like a fool as I stared at my phone. Realizing it, a pang of guilt and sadness shot through me.
What was I doing?
It scared me how close I felt to him, a celebrity no less; but he made it easy to share myself, lightening my burden that had weighed me down for so long. But in that lifting from my shoulders there was a new issue created. I felt vulnerable and defenseless, and it caused concern that I’d form an attachment. Surely this couldn’t last past our training.

He mentioned that he wanted it to, but I’m sure he meant to be friendly. He would be busy with the show soon, and after that with films across the world. No matter how attentive he was: treating me to lunch, listening to my problems, and genuinely seeming to care, I knew I needed to avoid deepening my connection with him. It was just so comforting to be accepted, I didn’t want that to end. I went to sleep to avoid confronting my feelings.

CHAPTER FIVE

T
he weekend was spent continuing to be productive and donating things to charity. Although I’d only lived in London for one year, I had already accumulated unnecessary items. When I moved, I didn’t set an ending for my time abroad, but I knew I wanted to continue my minimalist lifestyle. Since I lived alone and kept to myself, I didn’t need much and the only things I allowed myself to hoard were books.

After cleaning, I got out of the apartment and walked to Daunt Books. I’d been cooped up inside, and while I was accomplishing tasks, I couldn’t stop thinking of Rhys. Daunt Books was a great distraction and it fed my addiction of print, but even there I couldn’t escape him as I veered towards the travel section and purchased Paris guidebooks.

During my walk home signs of autumn were starting to hint their way into London. Some of the leaves were slowly beginning to wither and the end-of-summer breeze had appeared as well. Autumn was my favorite time in the city, and I could only imagine how beautiful Paris would be in the fall. I had been tempted to text Rhys all weekend, and with the guidebooks in my arms it made it all the more enticing. Not wanting to seem clingy, I decided against it since I hadn’t heard from him after the park.

But the urge to reach out continued, and as I ran through the park the following morning he inundated my thoughts. I hated that I looked for him, that I ran slower and longer than normal, in hopes of catching him mid-run. But that run felt different; it was powerful and I didn’t feel as heavy, my shoulders looser as I took longer strides. Maybe it was the possibility of running into him, or maybe I just felt a little less weighted. Had Rhys looked for me too? It was a nice thought that rapidly twisted into guilt. I stretched again by the pond with a new alertness in case by some miracle he would pass my way, but he hadn’t, and I walked home annoyed by my disappointment.

After a glass of wine that night, I finally texted him. I’d been idiotic enough to watch
The Notebook
while drinking, making the void of companionship too strong. I isolated myself from everyone, yet I was still lonely. Of course, drunk texting the celebrity you’re working with is not the smartest idea, but I wasn’t in the right place to make smart choices.

Me: Ran today, but not into you. I also got some Paris guidebooks.

I figured this was enough to lure him in, without seeming eager for conversation. I regretted it as an hour passed, then another, and I went to bed feeling stupid and just as alone. The bed feels bigger when you’re alone in it. I used to love when Aaron would go away for work and I’d have our queen-sized bed to myself, but after, even my full-sized mattress felt infinitely large. There was too much space, the sheets were too cold and I hated that I had to sleep alone again. I missed the naive comfort that I’d never have to do it again. Two hours later the movement and light from my phone woke me up.

Rhys: Sorry I missed your text and run. I just left the cinema with a friend. I have to admit I ran yesterday and looked for you, too. But I didn’t message you because I didn’t want to bother you.

As I read this, another text came in.

Rhys: It was the most pleasant surprise seeing your name on my phone when I got out.

I didn’t know what to say, but I was relieved he didn’t find me foolish. A silly smile crossed my face with the awareness that my text made him happy. I wanted to say so many things. I wanted to ask why he was looking for me, why my message made him so happy, and why he was being so nice to me, but I didn’t. I remembered the way I suffered in bed when I hadn’t heard from him, and it put me in my place.

Me: Sorry we missed each other. Looking forward to working together tomorrow
.

Rhys: Just to working?

Me: The company, too.

I couldn’t help myself.

∞

I didn’t sleep much throughout the night with Rhys and Aaron invading my mind. Each time I found myself thinking about Rhys, his luminous eyes, the delicacy of his pink lips, the stubble along his sharp jaw, I immediately thought of Aaron and what he would think of me. It caused a sensation in my stomach that made me feel sick, and I was certain it wasn’t the wine. It worsened as I picked out a cute outfit for work, only to remind myself nothing was going to happen with Rhys, yet something was happening to me.

For the first time in almost two years, I was excited to see someone, and was thinking of something other than my emotional baggage. It made me livelier and happier, and even though Rhys and I would never keep in touch, I already knew I’d never forget him.

He had awakened something in me that I thought had died: the ability to be attracted to someone, to enjoy someone’s company again, and to feel that flutter in my stomach I missed. I decided that, if anything, I’d entertain the idea of Rhys if only to heal myself. I’d take advantage of his friendship while he offered it because something about him was different.

He was so habit-forming, easy to talk to, funny and lighthearted, and I couldn’t comprehend how effortless it was to spend time with that stranger. I guessed it was a side effect of how he seemed to have the whole package. He was handsome, sweet, successful, and any woman would kill to be his. But what I found most attractive about him, wasn’t his wealth or fame, it was how passionate he was about everything and how natural he treated everyone. He was indisputably real.

I’d left earlier for work in hopes of getting there first. He texted me on my way.

Rhys: Getting us coffee, is there anything else you’d like?

Me: No, thank you.

Rhys: Are you sure? I’m getting something, Ellie, so you might as well pick.

Me: Surprise me.

That was a huge mistake because he showed up with coffee and a huge bag of food. As he walked past the glass, his eyes found me and he smiled. It was contagious, causing the corners of my lips to rise as well, and I watched his eyes come to life as he observed my own grin. I opened the door for him and said, “Good morning,”

“Good morning,” he repeated, after placing the bag on the table. “We’ve got Danishes, pastries, bagels, toast, fruits, and I got you a yogurt parfait.”

I laughed, thoroughly pleased at his child-like enthusiasm. “That’s way too much.”

“Well,” he said, putting his hands on his waist. “Someone didn’t want to be specific. You better eat it, ’cause I hate wasting food.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll take some home if you want.”

He nodded with his hands on his waist. “So, what will it be?”

I chose the parfait and a croissant, which he served for me. He sat in the chair beside me and as we started eating I could feel his eyes on me. I avoided his glance, especially in close proximity, but I couldn’t help it anymore. Looking up, I caught him glancing at me as he bit his lower lip. “It’s good to see you. You look nice,” he gestured towards my outfit with his eyes.

I had chosen a lacy navy t-shirt and pink skinny capri pants, which matched the color in my cheeks perfectly. I looked down shyly and almost choked on granola.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asked with a boyish grin.

“No,” I swallowed. “It’s just, I’m not used to compliments from guys…it’s been a while.” I paused and proceeded to change the subject. “What movie did you see?”

I didn’t just ask this for distraction, I was morbidly curious about who he’d gone with. He told me that he went with an old classmate, saying that he knew
her
since grade school. I wasn’t thrilled that it was a female, but when he again mentioned how happy my text had made him, it made me feel better. Jealously wasn’t practical, but I’d grown attached to him and while I knew this wouldn’t go anywhere, I didn’t like the thought of him with another woman.

We spent the morning discussing other characters in the play, focusing on how Hamlet’s interactions with them would add characterization to him. Specifically we concentrated on Hamlet’s uncle, Claudius, and how he sets the events into motion. Rhys paid attention, looking at the text and being professional, but every now and again I caught him glancing at me in a way that left me flustered. He’d be staring at my face, biting his pen or crossing his muscular forearms across his chest, and it was impossible to ignore. Lunch came quickly though, saving me from embarrassment and that small meeting room.