Night for Day by Roselle Lim EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Roselle Lim
- Language: English
- Genre: Asian American Literature
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- Price: Free
Camille
• • • • •
Present day
• • • • •
MISTAKES WERE MEANT to be in the rearview mirror—not walking,
breathing, and able to cup your cheek to stoke every single smoldering
memory long buried for self-preservation.
He shouldn’t whisper my name as if he never stopped doing so for the
past two years.
Even now, my fingers itched to reacquaint myself with the beauty of his
face, then to trace the slight cleft in his chin down his smooth throat, and
ever farther down, to where our once shared intimacy implied permission
and invitation.
“Camille, I never thought I’d see you again, let alone in London.” The
way my name rolled off his tongue and slid through his lips always elicited
the same response—it felt like a hot kiss at the nape of my neck.
Ward Dunbar. The mistake I’d commit again and again even knowing
that the result would always be heartbreak.
“Job interview. If I get it, I’ll be moving here.” I adjusted the neckline
of my buttoned dress shirt, expanding the view of bronzed skin below my
collarbones. My traitorous body always reacted to him when he was in
physical proximity. Easier to shut down my hormones through the sterility
of a black glass screen.
He brushed an errant dark blond strand off his forehead. “I’m here for
the same. Though I’ve passed the interview part.”
The skies overhead darkened—clusters of gray clouds huddling
together in conference. It had been sunny five minutes ago. Late-spring
weather in London changed on a whim with wicked fickleness, and we
were sliding into the heat of summer. I packed an umbrella and a cardigan
in my lavender vegan leather tote, but I didn’t account for him. My purse
didn’t contain what I’d need to cope with the nuclear fallout of a failed
relationship.
Avoidance therapy was the only method that worked. Putting thousands
of miles between us and preventing myself from checking his social media
accounts fueled a comfortable sense of forgetfulness—the kind that allowed
me to function on a daily basis, but didn’t prevent an occasional damaging
slipup. It didn’t hurt that he hadn’t had any long-term relationships since
then. Moving to Manhattan helped, and London should have cured me
completely.
I was wrong.
Two days ago, I slipped and checked his Instagram. The selfie at an
outdoor bookstall on the South Bank caused me to stop breathing for a few
seconds. He was here and in the same city. I wasn’t thinking when I sent
him a direct message asking to meet at this bookshop. It was pure instinct—
I turned off my brain and my heart took over, grabbing the wheel and
changing the direction of my life.
“I never thought you’d leave LA.” I resisted the urge to straighten the
bent corner of his collar. No tie. I’d been the one responsible for those. His
long, elegant fingers had other talents.
“I needed a change. This opportunity was as good a time as any.” He
tipped his head toward the bookshop. “It’s going to rain. Can we duck in
and chat?”
I followed him into one of the most beautiful little shops in
Westminster. These buildings reminded me of an eclectic bookshelf—the
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