Book 1 | Completed | "Lydia, what if there's a reason I was on the bridge that night?"
Two strangers. One cross-country adventure.
After an unorthodox meeting on The George Washington Bridge, Sean Williams and Lydia Preston agree to take the road t...
Once we arrived at my apartment building, I parked in the parking garage and told Lydia to bring her things with us while we went inside my place. We made it to the front door before the doorman stopped me.
"Welcome home, Mr. Williams. I wanted to inform you that a woman came by looking for you."
Fuck. "Was she brunette?"
"Yes, sir."
Ugh. Crazy-Fucking-Amy. "If she comes back, call the police and report her for trespassing."
We got in the elevator and Lydia shot me a wry smile. "Crazy ex you mentioned?"
"Yeah. I moved once already." I shook my head. "This is getting ridiculous." Lydia chuckled and I pushed my shoulder into hers. "Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up."
The elevator dinged when we got to ky floor. I stepped out into the hallway and Lydia followed behind me. Once we were inside my lift, I heard a low whistle followed by, "Holy shit."
I looked behind me and Lydia was standing at my front door. Her eyes were wide as she took in the giant space.
"Are you coming in?" I teased.
Without answering, she walked inside, trying to take in all the luxurious decorations and furniture.
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"My assistant hired a decorator when I moved in. Good thing, too. If she didn't there probably wouldn't be anything in here," I said as I made my way to my bedroom.
I explained to Lydia on the way back to the city that I just needed to stop at my apartment to get some clothes and other essentials for our trip. I was so excited to get the fuck out of New York.
When I started emptying my pockets, I pulled out the money Lydia gave me. No one has ever paid me back before. The fact that she insisted on it even though she had very little money to her name, spoke volumes for her as a person. It took all my willpower to accept it from her. The only reason I did was because I could tell how much it meant to her.
I tucked it in the top drawer of my dresser before I grabbed a duffle bag from my closet and headed back into my living room where Lydia was waiting. She was standing by one of my floor-to-ceiling glass windows that looked out over the city.
I offered her the bag. "You can use this for your stuff."
She turned toward me, and I could tell by her tense expression that being back in the city was starting to get to her. If I was being honest, it was getting to me too.
"Thank you," she said, and took the bag from me.
"I just need to grab a couple things then we'll be on our way."
I went back to my bedroom and packed clothing and other necessities I would need before heading to the kitchen. When I opened my fridge, I was disappointed to see that there wasn't really anything I wanted to take on the road with me.
