Lovestruck Forever by Rachel Schurig Page A

loop?”
    “We
can do a lot of decision making through email and Skype,” I
assured him.
    “But
we’d still be apart a lot more than I’m comfortable
with.”
    “It
won’t be for very long.” I tightened my fingers in his.
“Besides, I miss London, Thomas. I would love to spend some
time there. With you.”
    “Maybe…maybe
we could look for a house?” he asked, his voice hopeful. “A
place for us to live after the wedding.”
    My
breath caught in my throat. We hadn’t talked much about where
we would live after the wedding. Everything was pretty much on hold
as my mom healed. But now that we were making actual plans, now that
the wedding was a tangible thing, rather than a vague fantasy, I
realized I could start to envision the future for us on the other
side.
    “A
house, eh?” I said, trying to keep my voice light. “In
London?”
    “Or
the country,” he said quickly. “Whatever you want.”
    I
couldn’t keep cool any longer—I threw my arms around his
neck again. This time, he let me, pulling me close and burying his
face in my hair. “House hunting sounds perfect,” I said,
my voice shaking a little. “I can’t wait to get started.”
     
    ***
     
    Everything
seemed to move very fast once Thomas officially took the role. The
producers requested that he come to London right away so they could
screen test potential co-stars and handle whatever logistical issues
there were when shooting a movie. He would be gone for a week, and I
decided to make the trip with him. I figured it’d be a good
test run to see how ready my family was to help my mom in my absence.
Besides, I hadn’t been back to London in months, and I missed
it so badly it made my chest hurt just to think about it.
    The
night before Thomas and I were set to leave, he came into the bedroom
to find me packing. “Hey,” I said, distractedly hunting
for a missing pair of shoes. “Have you seen my black ballet
flats?”
    He
looked at me blankly. “You have ballet shoes?”
    I
made a face at him. “Ballet flats. They’re flat shoes
without a heel.” When his face still didn’t clear, I had
to laugh. “I practically live in ballet flats, Thomas. You see
me in them nearly every day.”
    “Oh!”
He held up a finger. “Those black shoes you wear all the time?
I think they’re in the den.”
    “Thank
you.” I moved toward the door, but he caught my hand as I
passed.
    “Can
it wait a minute? There’s something I want to talk to you
about.”
    The
nervous look on his face immediately put my guard up. “What’s
wrong?”
    “Nothing.”
He led me over to the bed and pulled me down next to him on the edge.
“It’s good news.”
    “If
it’s good news why do you look so terrified?”
    He
gave me a rueful smile. “I’m a little afraid of your
reaction.” He took a deep breath. “An agent called
Heidi’s office today.”
    I
wrinkled my nose. “An agent? Heidi’s your agent. Is this
someone that wants to partner with her—”
    “No,
Lizzie,” he interrupted. “Not an agent for me. A literary
agent.”
    I
felt the air leave my lungs. “Oh.”
    “Look,
I know how uncomfortable you are using our connection to advance your
career. I understand that completely. But…this agent heard
about you from Ellen Jacobs.”
    Color
immediately rushed to my cheeks. Ellen Jacobs was an editor I had met
with in Los Angeles. I had allowed myself to be swept along in the
fantasy that she and her boss loved my book on its own merits,
completely missing the fact that they were actually only interested
in capitalizing on my relationship with Thomas—until they
basically spelled it out for me. It had been one of the most
mortifying—and disappointing—experiences of my life.
    “I
know you don’t want any kind of repeat of that,” he said
quickly. “But this agent seemed genuinely excited about your
book.”
    “Thomas—”
    “Look,
what could it hurt to have a meeting? She’s going to be in
London next week for a book expo. You could