I Think Your Love Would Be Too Much / Post Malone

Chapter 78

I made my way down the lengthy staircase, clutching the black box as firmly as I could in my sweating palms as I made my way towards the kitchen. Once I reached the island, I placed the gift down onto the counter top and quickly made my way to pull the bubbling French onion soup out of the oven.

But though my body was physically moving, though seemingly in a slowed motion, my racing mind remained left behind upstairs in my bedroom.

Angel.

The word imprinted in my brain as I said it over and over again under my breath, hoping and praying that it would miraculously trigger a memory of Lena and I. I was determined that by foolishly repeating the word as I mindlessly finished preparing dinner, it would throw me head first back in time and I would remember how exactly I came about calling her the sweet pet name. But I knew more than anyone else in this world that it certainly did not work that way and I was only tormenting myself by hypnotically chanting the single word.

But as much as I tried to pull my heavy aching head out of the thick foggy clouds, suddenly nothing seemed to make any sense.

I mean how could I spend so much time with this girl, have so much chemistry, so much goddamn sexual tension, so much in common, and not be head over fucking heels in love with her?

How was it possible that nothing, and I mean nothing, had ever happened between us until now?

Was it really because she worked for me? Did she initially want to keep things strictly professional between us? Maybe, just maybe, she didn't want to mix business with pleasure but my unexpected accident made her suddenly realize that life itself was way too short not to take chances. And just like that, she could no longer deny how she truly felt about me.

Yeah that had to be it. I mean it was the only logical explanation. Right?

I shook my head from side to side, trying my hardest to prevent my over thinking from getting the best of me as I didn't want anything getting in the way of my night with Lena. Especially my foolish assuming thoughts.

I sucked in a sharp breath and carried the steaming French onion soup to the dining room table, where she was sitting with one leg crossed over the other, her cell phone held closely to her ear.

"I will. Thank you again. I love you too Noah, bye." I heard her say before she hung up and placed her phone down onto the table.

"I knew you were good too good to be true. Let me guess, your long term boyfriend that I didn't know about?" I half way joked as I placed the soup bowls onto the table.

I heard her sweet laugh as I slid into the seat next her, her eyes glazing over my appearance as I smoothed my hair once again.

"You clean up really well rockstar." She pressed her lips together, almost as if she were fighting the urge to bite down onto her bottom lip.

"And you got me. I totally left my serious boyfriend back home in LA while I live out my dream as Post Malone's number one groupie. I think things are going pretty well, all things considering." She shrugged her shoulders as she gestured to extravagant spread between us.

I chuckled at her dramatized sarcasm, a wicked smile tugged at her pink lips as she picked at her salad.

"You are a real comedian groupie. And I don't mean to sound like a self absorbed dick but you'd be surprised at how many woman would be willing to do exactly that." I grabbed the bottle of chilled champagne, loosening the metal cage around the cork and smoothly popping the top.

"You're a wanted man." She chuckled, rolling her eyes upwards, an almost sad film forming on top of her irises as they locked with mine.

I carefully filled the empty glasses halfway, giving one to her as I held on to the other. I took her free hand in mine, rubbing my thumb along the back of her hand before I placed a soft kiss onto the surface of her skin.