Time-Lapse by J.B. Heller

Chapter Twenty

I can’t believeshe talked me into this. I never thought I’d go back there. Yet here I am, shoving clothes in my duffel, getting ready to go to the one place I swore I’d never return.

“You ready yet? Our Uber will be here in five minutes,” Bee calls from the living room.

Grumbling under my breath, I grab an extra pair of Converse and throw them in my bag. I left packing to the very last second in an unnoticed, and frankly pathetic, display of rebellion. Bee doesn’t care, though. Hell, I could have refused to pack anything at all, and she wouldn’t have cared. She would have just forced me to go shopping when we arrived.

Throwing my duffel over my shoulder, I drag my ass down the short hallway and dump it on the floor next to her suitcase.

Bee throws me a water bottle out of the fridge then takes the handle of her girly luggage and wheels it to the door. Holding it open to make sure I follow her out, she then locks up behind me.

I don’t say anything as we ride the elevator down to the lobby.

And I still refuse to talk to her as we check in for our flight and wait for it to be called up.

“You going to continue giving me the cold shoulder all weekend?” Bee asks from her seat directly across from me in the waiting area.

Glancing toward her, I mutter, “Maybe.”

She rolls her eyes. “This is for your own good, Hux. Believe it or not, I only have your best interest at heart.”

She does. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it. “I know,” I say while watching a plane take off through the huge plate-glass windows that surround the terminal.

By the time we board, my nerves are nearly uncontrollable. I’m actually doing this. I’m going back.

My knee is bouncing, making my seat jostle, and the person seated beside me raises a brow. “You afraid of flying?” she asks.

I swallow. “It’s more the destination than the means of travel,” I tell her honestly while opening and closing my fists in my lap.

She seems to understand and nods. “I hear ya, but I’m sure if you’re on this plane right now, there’s a damn good reason for it.”

I shrug. “Work and a pushy agent.”

Bee speaks up from the other side of me. “I’m sitting right here, and unlike you, I’m not ignoring my best friend. I can hear every word you’re saying. It’s time to pull up your big-boy panties and man up, Huxley.”

I frown. “My big-boy panties?”

She nods. “Well, you’re behaving more like a girl than any I know, so yeah, your panties.”

Shaking my head, I turn back to the woman on my opposite side. “See? Pushy. And mean.”

The woman smiles but doesn’t say anything else.

I try to relax during the flight, but the closer we get to my old stomping grounds, the more wound up I become.

“Why don’t you look up that girl you told me about?”

Bee’s words hit me like a sledgehammer. My head whips around, and I glare at her. “Why would I do that?”

She rolls her eyes. “Because you love her.”

My glare intensifies. “Yeah, and I can’t have her. So why exactly would I torture myself by trying to find her after all this time?”

“Who says you can’t have her?” she says in that matter-of-fact tone that grates at my nerves even more than sitting on this plane does.

“You know why, so drop it, Bee. I’m not doing this.” Just as I finish speaking, the aircraft begins its descent, and my hands wrap around the armrests and squeeze for dear life. This is it.

We make our way through luggage claim without any hassles, and in less than half an hour, we’re sliding into the backseat of another Uber. When I hear Bee give the driver the name of the hotel, my heart leaps into my throat. “Did you just say we’re going to Quinn Plaza?”

Bee settles back in her seat. “Yeah, why?”

My mind is racing a million miles a minute. That’s Eliza’s family’s hotel. Jesus, what if I run into her? Holy shit. What if I see her again and it all comes back? I’ve worked my ass off to forget her. Doesn’t mean I was successful, but I’ve tried.

My anxiety is at an all-time high. Fuck! What if she hates me? She’d have every right to. It would kill me, seeing her and not being able to touch her. Not a day has passed in the last five years when I haven’t thought about her.

I’ve Googled her more times than I can count. I still have every single picture I ever took of her. I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of any of them. They were all I had left of her. Hell, this whole exhibition … oh, fuck!

I look at Bee sitting next to me, checking her emails on her cell.

“Bee,” I say firmly.

“Hmm,” she mumbles without taking her eyes off the screen as she taps away.

Bianca Markham is one of the smartest people I’ve ever met. There is no way she organized this exhibition at Quinn Plaza without knowing the connection to Eliza. I’ve only spoken about her to Bee once or twice, but I guess I said enough for Bee to know exactly how I felt about Eliza and what she means to me.

“Bee, tell me you haven’t set me up here,” I say with a calmness I don’t feel. Her eyes lift to mine for a brief second, and it’s all I need. “Motherfucker! Why would you do that?”

She straightens her shoulders and twists her torso so she’s facing me, then she pokes me in the chest with her pointy, red-polished nail. “First, don’t you ever speak to me like that again,” she says. “And second, you know damn well I would never do anything to hurt you. So, you can wipe that accusatory look off your face right now, mister.”

I swallow. Again, I know she’s telling the truth. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled.”

The glare that’s honed in on my face right now could quite possibly kill. “You’re damn right you shouldn’t have,” she fumes. “I didn’t make the connection until I’d already fallen in love with the gallery. I went to five different possible venues, and this one was the best fit. When I’d booked in the viewing, I didn’t even think about the name of the hotel.”

Raising a brow, I ask, “But you did realize and booked it anyway?”

She exhales. “Yes.”

“Why?” I almost plead.

“Because the venue is perfect for this exhibition. It’s kind of like coming full circle, don’t you think? I mean, she is the center of this show. It’s almost poetic that it should be shown in her family’s legacy.”

As always, Bee has a good point. Artistically speaking, it is the perfect venue. But personally, I sigh. “I get it, but I don’t know if I’m ready for this.”

Bee reaches over and rests her hand on my thigh, giving it a light squeeze of reassurance. “You can. It’s time.”

I swallow thickly and nod, even though I’d much rather throw myself in front of a bus right now.

When we arrive at the hotel, I can’t help but laugh at the irony. Bee booked me into the Mr. Mysterious suite. I bet she has no idea that’s what El used to call me. It brings back memories of the notes she used to slip me, addressed to that very name.

I can see her handwriting clear as day in my mind. I’ve read and reread those notes a pathetic number of times over the years, trying to convince myself that I could one day be worthy of her affection.

But I’m not there yet, and I don’t know if I ever will be.

What if I see her and she’s every bit as amazing as she was back then? Will I be able to walk away again? Will she even let me near her? Surely, she hates me. She should. Or, at the very least, she should not want anything to do with me after what I did.

Oh fuck, what if she’s met someone? My heart starts pounding in my chest like a jackhammer.

I lock myself in my suite. I don’t want to go down to the gallery any sooner than I have to. I don’t want to risk running into anyone I used to know. I have no idea how I will respond to seeing someone from my past. And I’m not particularly interested in finding out.

So, I stay in my room and decide draining the mini bar would be an excellent use of my time.