In Thesolo, people didn’t fear ghosts; they welcomed visions of the ancestors, but the aftermath was called a “second death” because you were forced to grieve again after that brief reconnection.
Oh goddess. Likotsi’s throat was rough. Would she have to go through that pain again?
“I didn’t ghost you. I told you that I couldn’t continue the relationship,” Fab said, the fingers of one hand lifting and her brows drawing together. “You were the one having a fling while in a different country for business. You were leaving, and stuff came up that made it clear I didn’t have time for more heartbreak, okay?”
The train rattled as it rushed through the tunnel, the jerking motions pushing Fab against Likotsi and then pulling her away.
“You never responded when I asked why!” Likotsi’s voice was brittle with a sudden anger as she struggled to be heard over the rattle of the train. Seven months and three weeks! That was how long she’d nursed this sorrow, how long it had been since her desperate messages to Fab had gone unread, and now Fab sat there with her warm brown eyes and bright red lips, calmly explaining that she hadn’t done anything wrong.
“That’s not ghosting, that’s—that’s having boundaries,” Fab said gently. “You like knowing things, but the only things that mattered were that you were leaving, I was staying, and I had a life outside of our little fairy-tale trysts. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
The train jumped a little on the track and Fab slid toward Likotsi, her body warm.
“Excellent. I give you thanks for taking time to explain boundaries to me. You and your boundaries could have stayed in the other train car if you really cared to enforce them.”
Likotsi turned her head away, focusing on the tunnel lights blipping by at regular intervals. At least now she could finally close this sad chapter in her dating life and move on.
“Hey.” Fab’s voice was soft. Uncertain. “Did you eat yet?”
Likotsi glanced back at Fab. Her smile was wicked, but her eyes were tired and her face was strained.
That’s not your problem, Likotsi reminded herself. She tapped her toe on the ground, reminding herself that her shoes pointed toward the future not the past.
She sighed.
“I had coffee and a butter roll earlier,” she replied. And even though she knew she shouldn’t ask, she did. “Why?”
“Have you had a chance to try dim sum yet? There’s a place near here that’s really good.” She gestured out to the train platform as they pulled into Canal Street.
“I’m not hungry,” Likotsi said.
“You like tea,” Fab pressed. “They have great tea. Unlimited refills.”
Likotsi knew she should say no. She’d made a resolution. She had an itinerary. She was going to walk the city alone, make new memories to blot out the ones featuring Fabiola’s big brown eyes and her warm mouth. She was going to leave behind the itchy anxiety that had come with staring at unread messages in the dating app day after day.
But . . .
Her role as repository of wisdom had apparently also taken the weekend off.
“Dim sum is on my list of things to do.” Likotsi patted the inner pocket that held her handwritten list, and she felt her heart beating fast beneath her palm.
“Can I treat you? To an early lunch?” Fab reached out, but then drew her gloved hands back. “I know this is weird, but I thought I’d never see you again. Like, I’ve been mad busy and this is my first free weekend in forever and—boom!—now you’re here and you’ve been here for months, and—” She took a deep breath. “I’m rambling. I won’t get ahead of myself, but maybe we can start with tea. And some soup dumplings?”
She stood and started toward the door as the train began to slow.
Likotsi stared at Fab, weighing her anger against her yearning, and though hope was a thing with feathers there was nothing insubstantial about it.
If she stayed on the train, she might never find out what Fab had hidden behind those boundaries—what had made her push Likotsi away. If she stayed, her shoes might never point forward.
The doors were open now. The passengers who’d been stuck with Likotsi were shuffling out and those who had crowded the platform waiting were flooding in, churning Fab through the doors and into the station.
Just sit. Let the doors close. Move on with your life.
Then Fab looked back, and those eyes of hers hid nothing. There was no cunning—just cautious expectation.
The scale crashed down in favor of the fluttering in Likotsi’s chest that fanned her anger and her curiosity and her longing.
Likotsi jumped to her feet and pushed past the people entering the train, body stiff as she tried to prevent too much damage to her jacket and suit, making it through the sliding doors just before they shut and the train pulled off.
The very practical side of her saw this for what it could be, without the chest fluttering—a reconnaissance mission. She’d spent months creating a shrine to Fabiola in her mind and her heart, extolling all the woman’s perfections and lamenting the loss of them. She’d taken a negligible number of interactions and turned them into some divine experience that she would never be able to re-create with another.
She would follow Fab’s lead. She would remember that Fab was a woman like any other, and that what they had shared was nice enough, but certainly not worth any further lamentation. Who knew? Perhaps she would find Fab to be utterly dull—as dull as the commonplace winter hat she was currently wearing.
Everyone on the platform was moving except Fab, a dollop of frozen relief. She seemed shocked that Likotsi had actually joined her. Then the right corner of her mouth kicked up.
“Took you long enough,” she said, finally.
Somewhere, the polite part of Likotsi’s mind chided her for blocking the flow of pedestrian traffic, but she didn’t start walking. She slowly adjusted the lapels of her coat and then the hem of each cuff.
“Well. I’m certainly worth the wait.”
Can’t Escape Love
And don’t miss Reggie’s story in
Can’t Escape Love
Available now!
Regina Hobbs is nerdy by nature, businesswoman by nurture. She’s finally taking her pop culture-centered media enterprise, Girls with Glasses, to the next level, but the stress is forcing her to face a familiar supervillain: insomnia. The only thing that helps her sleep when things get this bad is the deep, soothing voice of puzzle-obsessed live streamer Gustave Nguyen. The problem? His archive has been deleted.
Gus has been tasked with creating an escape room themed around a romance anime . . . except he knows nothing about romance or anime. Then mega-nerd and anime expert Reggie comes calling and they make a trade: his voice for her knowledge. But when their online friendship has IRL chemistry, will they be able to escape love?
About the Author
ALYSSA COLE is a science editor, pop culture nerd, and romance junkie, who lives in the Caribbean and occasionally returns to her fast-paced New York City life. In addition to writing, she founded and hosted the Jefferson Market Library Romance Book Club and taught Romance Writing for Beginners. She speaks on topics such as writing erotic romance, writing multicultural romance, and self-editing. She has contributed romance-related articles to publications, including RT Book Reviews, Heroes and Heartbreakers, Romance at Random, and The Toast. She has also started a bi-monthly column in the Romance Writer’s Report, Romancing the Globe, in which she chats with romance writers from around the world. When she’s not busy writing, traveling, and learning French, she can be found watching anime with her husband or tending to her herd of animals.
Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.
Also by Alyssa Cole
Reluctant Royals
A PRINCESS IN THEORY
A DUKE BY DEFAULT
ONCE GHOSTED, TWICE SHY (novella)
CAN’T ESCAPE LOVE (novella)
A PRINCE ON PAPER
Loyal League
AN EXTRAORDINARY UNION
A HOPE DIVIDED
Off the Grid
RADIO SILENCE
SIGNAL BOOST
MIXED SIGNALS
THAT COULD BE ENOUGH
LET US DREAM
LET IT SHINE
BE NOT AFRAID
AGNES MOOR’S WILD KNIGHT
EAGLE’S HEART
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Excerpt from Once Ghosted, Twice Shy copyright © 2019 by Alyssa Cole.
A PRINCE ON PAPER. Copyright © 2019 by Alyssa Cole. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Cover design by Nadine Badalaty
Cover illustration by Aleta Rafton
Cover photograph by Shirley Green Photography (Couple); © Zuboff—Dreamstime.com (balcony); © Mikel Trako/Shutterstock (City)
Mashala matching set by Trofina Joy
Avon, Avon & logo, and Avon Books & logo are registered trademarks of HarperCollins Publishers in the United States of America and other countries.
HarperCollins is a registered trademark of HarperCollins Publishers in the United States of America and other countries.
FIRST EDITION
Digital Edition MAY 2019 ISBN: 978-0-06-268560-5
Version 03272019
Print ISBN: 978-0-06-268558-2
About the Publisher
Australia
HarperCollins Publishers Australia Pty. Ltd.
Level 13, 201 Elizabeth Street
Sydney, NSW 2000, Australia
www.harpercollins.com.au
Canada
HarperCollins Publishers Ltd
Bay Adelaide Centre, East Tower
22 Adelaide Street West, 41st Floor
Toronto, Ontario, Canada
M5H 4E3
www.harpercollins.ca
India
HarperCollins India
A 75, Sector 57
Noida
Uttar Pradesh 201 301
www.harpercollins.co.in
New Zealand
HarperCollins Publishers New Zealand
Unit D1, 63 Apollo Drive
Rosedale 0632
Auckland, New Zealand
www.harpercollins.co.nz
United Kingdom
HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF, UK
www.harpercollins.co.uk
United States
HarperCollins Publishers Inc.
195 Broadway
New York, NY 10007
www.harpercollins.com