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Dreaming wasn’t in Savannah’s plans. They never were—she always considered herself more of a doer—but tonight was a different deal. Tonight, her dreams replayed scenes of Rohan in her house. Rohan, bantering with her like it was as natural as breathing. Rohan, actually staying at the house for days, or weeks, on end.
But of course, when she woke up, none of that was real.
Even more so solidified by the fact that one side of the bed was warm and emptied. Maybe she was a fool for thinking this time would be different, that he would stay and talk—really talk. But he came to her family home and she refused to believe that meant nothing to him. Not when he could just as easily sleep in a motel using his not-so-legal methods.
Savannah reached for the lamp on her bedside table, letting it light up her room. The rain outside had stopped, but the sky was still cloudy and dark—and as a result, made her room dark as fuck.
No wonder why he left, the thought slipped in before she could push it away. No more rain. No reason to stay for longer. Because that was the only reason he’d came to hers, wasn’t it?
But it wasn’t. Her mind just wouldn’t shut up. Though, at the same time, it was right. Way too right for her to be comfortable with Rohan just leaving. He had told her he didn’t know how to quit her, yet he left without saying goodbye or even waiting for her to wake up. He had kissed her like it meant something to him, yet he couldn’t even spare a goodbye kiss for her.
She reached for her pillow, placing it over her face and letting out a long frustrated groan into the fabric. What was wrong with her? How was she so worked up over a man?
There was a knock on her door just then, and Savannah almost, almost called out for Rohan, but she had the good sense to stop herself lest it turned out to be Gigi or Mum—for whom she would have a lot of explaining to do.
Throwing her legs over the edge of the bed, she pushed herself up onto the floor and unlocked her door. He didn’t leave through the front door, she noted. If he did, my door would’ve been unlocked. “Yes?”
“Rise and shine, Sav!” Gigi was awfully—unusually, given that she was more of a night owl—cheerful for the time it was right now. She let herself into Savannah’s room as soon as the door was unlocked, took one look at Savannah and frowned. “You look like you walked through hell.”
Savannah ran a hand through her hair. She hadn’t a clue about how she looked, but she did feel like she had walked through hell. “Do I?”
Gigi gave her a look. “You’re not denying it.” She closed the door behind her, ensuring that the door clicked into place. “Translation: it’s really bad. What happened?”
Sometimes, Savannah wished Gigi didn’t know her so well. “I’m fine, Gigi. Go back to sleep.”
“I’m well energised, thank you very much.” Savannah’s twin did not leave the room. Instead, she walked over to Savannah’s bed and sat on the edge of it. “What—or who—made you look like you walked through hell and do I have someone to kill?”
It would be much appreciated. “Nothing and no one.”
“You answered to my who!” Gigi narrowed her eyes slightly. Savannah would’ve been amused if she had any energy to feel it. “Whose body do I need to bury?”
Savannah stayed silent for a long stretch of time, debating on whether she should tell Gigi. Secrets had destroyed their relationship in the past, but those had always been about their father. What’s one secret that wasn’t about their father to keep?
Then again, Savannah was tired of secrets, and tired of lies. Both of which were Rohan’s thing, apparently. “Rohan’s,” she muttered under her breath, half hoping that Gigi wouldn’t catch it.
Unfortunately, or fortunately, Gigi caught it and perked up on the bed. “That British bastard? Isn’t he off doing his weird thing in England?”
Savannah sat down beside her twin on the bed, clutching onto the blanket that was stained with Rohan’s scent. It didn’t matter how faint it was—she would grasp at the air if it meant a reminder of him would be there. “I thought so too.” She launched into a long explanation of last night’s events. Gigi kept surprisingly quiet until Savannah was done.
“You patched him up after he trespassed into our house?” was the first thing Gigi said in response. Savannah shot her a look, making Gigi shake her head in dismissal. “That’s adorable and I love that for you, but maybe we need to patch up our security. Anyway, how far is he right now?”
“How would I know?”
“Okay, so it’s bad,” Gigi noted. She got up from the bed to push Savannah’s window curtain aside. “He can’t be that far. If he’s already returning to London then he’s at the airport. If not…”
“We are not chasing him.” Savannah issued that like an order, but she really should’ve known better. Gigi was never one to take orders.
“You’re sad, I’m sad that you’re sad, and you’re sad because of Rohan. We are definitely chasing him.” Gigi shoved Savannah’s phone and wallet at her, then turned on her heel to skip out of the room. “Let’s go!”
Savannah did not move an inch. “Gigi, what gives you the impression that I would ever chase down anyone, let alone a man?”
Gigi looked over her shoulder for barely a second. “Your eyes lit up when you talked about him, Sav,” she told her softly, as though she was afraid that Savannah might shut her up if she spoke too loud. “Waste all your luck on him, but don’t waste it all on not trying.”
Then Savannah’s twin left, leaving Savannah to mull over that.
~
Savannah did not mull over it for long. Gigi, although Savannah’s polar opposite, was much like her when it came to her determination to stick to a plan. It was how Savannah ended up at the airport in her pyjamas, carrying just two items: her phone and her wallet.
Gigi had insisted that this was a solo mission for Savannah, so she’d stopped at booking Savannah a cab and watching her leave. Savannah wasn’t sure if she was going to kill her twin or hug her twin by the end of this day, but she was leaning towards kill for now.
“Damn you,” she cursed under her breath, directing it all towards Gigi and Rohan—mostly to Rohan.
Her eyes were on the lookout for that tall bastard, her heart praying that he wasn’t already gone, and her mind telling her this was stupid and she should just go back home and sleep in. But a part of her was still thinking about what Gigi told her.
Your eyes lit up when you talked about him.
Damn him. Damn him all the way to hell.
As though her thoughts manifested him into existence, she spotted his curly hair just a few feet away from her. She couldn’t see his expression from here, but she could tell his leg wound was giving him problems.
I could’ve helped with that, the thought slipped through all the filters in her mind that were up to keep dangerous thoughts like that one out. If he’d let me.
Her legs started walking before she made up her mind. She still had the good sense not to run—she wasn’t that desperate—but her speed was picking up by the second.
Rohan turned around just as she approached him, the expression on his face giving away his surprise before he smoothed it into a neutral expression. “Followed me here, love?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t act like you don’t know why I’m here.”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “Spare me some details.”
“Last night.” She watched his face for any changes in his expression, but there was none. At least, not one that was readable to her. “Who the fuck does that, Rohan?”
He didn’t reply, so she took it as a sign that he was listening. That she had all his attention. She continued, “You come to my house, whining about how you were all drenched from the rain, when you could’ve easily booked a motel room—especially when my house has more security than whatever motel you would’ve gotten in a not-legal way.”
“I wasn’t—”
“And then,” she cut him off sternly, “you let me tend to your wounds when you could’ve easily told me you could handle it yourself—and I don’t care that it was only tended to because I wanted it to be.” Maybe she should’ve stopped there. “Then you hook up with me.” She definitely should’ve stopped there. But she couldn’t stop. It was like all the anger towards him had bundled up into a mess in her heart and now that she had the chance, she was unleashing it all. “And tell me you don’t know how to quit me.”
They were mere inches apart now, close enough to kiss, close enough for her to place her hands on his chest and push him away so that she would never have to see him again. She did neither of those. “You might still be playing games, British, but I’m not. What do you want?”
“It’s not that simple,” he told her quietly, his voice lower than she’d ever heard him speak.
Of course it wasn’t. But he had a choice to make it simpler instead of ten times more complicated. “The Mercy is your life.” That got a slight shift in his expression. “I get it. But you don’t get to ditch the Mercy for one night just to tell me lies and then leave me again. I will make one thing clear, Rohan.”
She seized the front of his shirt. “If the Mercy is your life, stay there and don’t come back.” Her voice cracked slightly on the word back, but she continued as though she didn’t notice. “We both know it’ll cause less pain for both of us.”
Hurt flashed through his eyes, brief enough that she could’ve convinced herself she had imagined it. And she almost wanted to, but after an excruciatingly long pause, he finally said, “None of them were lies, Savvy.”
Somehow, that made things even more complicated. “I’d prefer if they were,” she told him sharply. Whether she meant it or not was up for anyone’s judgement.
“I don’t know how to quit you,” he told her again, matter-of-factly this time instead of vulnerable. “But I don’t know how to quit the Mercy either.”
“Then don’t,” she replied once again. It felt like a repeat of last night, but this time they were sparring. “But don’t expect me to wait for you if you’re going to keep playing games like this.”
“I’m not playing.”
It was like Rohan only knew how to make a bad situation worse. “Don’t you get it? It hurts, Rohan.” She laid her hand flat on his chest, right above where she knew his heart was. His pulse was speeding up underneath her fingertips, but she didn’t let herself waver. “It hurts too fucking much. At least warn me if you’re going to leave out of nowhere. Warn me if you’re going to trespass into my house.”
Savannah pulled her hand away from his chest abruptly. “Don’t just run away when it gets to the hard part,” she said in a low voice. “I need you to meet me in the middle.”
Rohan stared at her for a few long seconds, his eyes darting between her lips and her eyes. Savannah told herself she wouldn’t kiss him back if he tried to kiss her, that she would push him away.
But as his hand crept up onto the back of her neck, his thumb gently caressing her, she quickly realised that would be the most blatant lie of her life. His lips stopped an inch short of hers. She could feel his breath brush against her lips as he spoke, “I’ll come back, love.”
He closed the gap between them and she couldn’t stop herself from kissing him back. His promise played through her mind, repeating over and over to look for any loopholes he might’ve added in just those four words.
As far as she could tell, there were none.
He had met her in the middle.