Quoting Shakespeare - Flying Wrenches (ON HOLD)

6

                  

They took a taxi back to the hotel. Instead of leading Maddison inside, Tom handed a ticket to the valet standing at the door. His car was quickly retrieved and they departed in silence.

"Where are we going?" Maddison finally asked when she could tell they weren't headed back to Nottingham.

"Somewhere we can talk without the world breathing down our necks," he answered quietly. Tom looked at her and his lips curled slightly at the edges. His blue eyes searched her face for any sign of how she was doing. 

Tom soon pulled up to a gated parking garage and entered his code. He could see the questions starting to build but Maddison remained silent as he escorted her to his flat. The apartment had a stillness to it, like it was on pause and only waited for his return. After disabling the alarm he turned to her and held out his hand. She looked at it briefly before grasping it with her own.

Maddison took in her surroundings as Tom led her farther into the apartment. It was far from the spacious and fancy setting she thought a film star would keep for a home. It wasn't  sterile and small either. Pictures of him with friends and family hung on the wall or sat propped in frames on tables or shelves. The living room they entered had a bookcase that stretched from one corner to the other. What little space that didn't hold books held more pictures or small mementoes.

Releasing Tom's hand, she approached the bookcase.  Shakespeare, Keats, all of the classics sat on the shelves mixed with Michael Crichton, Ian Fleming and other modern day authors.

"You've read Stephen King?" came the quiet question.

"Of all the questions you could start with," Tom said with a small laugh. "Yes, I picked up one of his novels at an airport when I first visited America and I found myself hooked. Would you like something to drink? Luke tries to keep the apartment stocked with the bare necessities." He smiled at his own pun and felt his stomach flip when Maddison looked at him with a sly smile.

"No, thank you," she answered and turned away from the bookcase to face him. Her gaze was guarded but Tom could see hints of the nymph he had met only a week ago. He cleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"So where do we go from here?" Maddison asked, grasping her hands behind her back.

"I'm not sure. I want you to know that everything I've told you this last week has been true. Everything except one. My name. I'm still the man that wants to win your heart and I wish to regain your trust," Tom spoke without hesitation.

Maddison felt her breath catch at his intentions of winning her heart. He had never actually said the words until now. She could see the resolve in his eyes, but they were shadowed slightly with the fear of rejection.

"Will you return to Nottingham?" she took a step towards him. He stood in the doorway at the opposite end of the room.

"That's up to you. If you want me," he answered, also taking a step forward.

"Will you stay Billy or tell everyone who you are?" Maddison stepped forward again. The air was beginning to feel thick. The hint of fear in Tom's eyes began to fade as they came closer.

"I'll tell Charlie and the lads at the garage as well as Mrs. Harrington, but I would like to keep it at that for now. You saw how the press can get when they know where I am." He stepped forward again. Only a small space separated them.

Maddison looked up into his eyes. "For how long?"

Tom bit his lower lip and reached for her. One hand rested on her shoulder. The other caressed her cheek as his fingers threaded through her hair. "For as long as you will have me," he said almost in a whisper before pressing his lips to hers.