Chapter Twelve

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Our night in London was the only one we'd spent together for about three months.

It didn't relieve anything. It only made the absence more acute and by the time April finally came, our separation was taking its toll.

I was physically exhausted from the whirlwind of activity I packed tight into three months. Oliver and I hadn't gotten a ton of sleep either, calling each other as much as we could despite the timezone difference. In a way, it gave us both perspective on how things could be in the future and how well we could handle it. Even though I'd be making an effort not to travel for really long periods of time, I would still need to take several trips during the year. At least, once the truth was out, Oliver would be able to come with me. We could make a trip of it.

That means getting the truth out there sooner rather than later.

That thought and what it could mean haunted me on my flight back to California. It was nearly one in the morning when we landed but Oliver was there waiting for me.

Forgetting himself and our public setting for a moment, he hauled me up against him for a hard, thorough kiss that had my assistant squealing when she emerged from the jet.

"You didn't see any of that, Janine!" I told her with a meaningful wiggle of my brows as I waved her toward the town car that had been booked to take her home. "Goodnight!"

As soon as my assistant was safely deposited inside the car, Oliver pulled me back toward him and I playfully slapped his arm away.

"Are you trying to get us caught?"

"At this point, I'm willing to do anything to ensure that you don't leave for that long while I'm stuck here unable to do or say anything about it," he said. "We can go tell Stellan and you're Dad now. I'll drive."

I grinned and rolled my eyes. "Nice try, Oliver. Come on. I need sleep. I'm about to fall flat on my face."

When I did fall flat on my face, it was at least on my bed. Makeup, clothes and shoes on, I went out like a light the moment Oliver and I arrived at my loft.

From the jet lag and the screwed up timezone, I didn't get up until almost six in the evening the next day. Oliver was gone and considering it was a Saturday, he was probably looking after things at Mad Alley. He'd mentioned something about Sav having a big fight tonight.

I showered and changed into a slouchy black shift dress and a chunky pair of biker boots. I braided my hair and tucked it into a high bun. I wore minimal makeup, leaving my skin porcelain white with a generous show of pale freckles. I still attracted some attention when I arrived. The place was bursting at the seams especially in the basement where a full-blown match was going on but men still turned and flirted as I strode past them. No one tried anything not because I looked intimidating but because I could feel one of Oliver's bouncers shadowing me from behind. I looked over my shoulder and flashed a smile at Trent who gave me a polite nod before moving in front of me to clear me a spot near the ring.

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