Scene 32

"How can you live here, with this view, and have never been on it?"

Dillon followed Kameryn's gaze to the London Eye, just a few hundred meters from where she sat at the railing of her balcony. She tipped her head back, resting it against Kam's chest, who had come to stand behind her.

It was the third morning they'd woken in London together, and the day was unusually bright, the sky clearing across the city. The slowly revolving observation wheel gleamed against the sunlight, its reflection bouncing off the slow pull of the river. Dillon closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of the idle fingers Kam ran through her hair.

"I don't know. It's like the people who live in New York City who've never been to the Statue of Liberty."

"I bet most of them have, they just don't admit it."

"Nonsense. You live in LA. Have you ever been to the Capitol Records Building?"

"Yes."

"Madame Tussauds Wax Museum?"

"Yes."

"Hollywood Walk of Fame?"

"Yes."

"Griffith Park Observatory?"

Kameryn laughed. "With you ."

"The Farmers Market at the Grove?"

"Also with you."

"Universal Studios?"

Kam tugged a shaggy lock of her too-long hair. "Now you're just messing with me."

"Never." Dillon smiled, wishing she could bottle the moment, to find a way to permanently absorb the happiness, this feeling of contentment. Kam bent to kiss her. "How about the pilings beneath the Santa Monica Pier?" Dillon asked against her lips.

"Once or twice."

"Twice?" She pivoted in the chair to face her, tilting her head in mock indignation. "With whom?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Kam slid to sit on her lap.

"Tosh." Dillon poked her in the ribs. "What about the Petersen Automotive Museum?"

"The what?"

" See ! You've proven my point. Just because you live near a tourism landmark doesn't mean you have to partake."

"Whatever that is is not a landmark."

"Absolutely is! It's on Miracle Mile!"

"And when did you become an expert on LA's tourist hot spots?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Dillon ribbed, toying with the hem of another shirt Kam had borrowed from her—her luggage still sitting in a hotel in Reading they kept swearing they'd go pick up.

"I want to go on it."

Dillon slid her hands beneath the shirt. "On what?"

" Dillon ," Kam scolded, though she didn't pull away. "The London Eye."

"There's a pretty good view of the skyline from here." She slipped her hands higher, forcing Kam's breath to shorten in response to her roaming fingers.

"I know what you're trying to do. It's not going to work."

"Care to bet?" Dillon kissed the exposed skin above her collar, feeling Kam lean her weight into her as the morning dew dried atop the glass banister.

It did work.

For about an hour.

And then, showered and dressed, Dillon let Kam drag her out the door, always knowing it had been a losing battle.

"C'mon," Kam chided at Dillon's reluctant steps. "It's going to be fun." She tugged her through the foyer, sneaking a kiss onto her neck as Dillon held open the door. "We could always have a continuation of our morning from the top of London."

"Maybe if you're into voyeurism." Dillon linked her arm through hers. "You realize they pack like two dozen people into every capsule."

Hitting the pavement, they started the short walk through Jubilee Gardens. The day had grown warm and the park attracted a plethora of foot traffic, with couples and children sprawled on the grass beneath the shadow of the glorified Ferris wheel.

"Don't be such a killjoy. Their website says they offer a private pod. And if they won't take a same day reservation, I'll buy however many tickets it takes to turn it into an exclusive ride."

"Is that how it works, Miss Hollywood Big Shot?" Dillon tucked her hand into Kam's back pocket. She'd found her a pair of Seren's jeans left behind from one of her sister's weekend visits, and a hoodie with British Triathlon screenprinted across it—one Kameryn already warned her she was taking home to Los Angeles.

With a beanie and sunglasses, she looked like every other wandering tourist.

"I had a big payday. It's only fair I get to blow a little of it somewhere—what better way than to buy the right to kiss my girlfriend looking down over Buckingham Palace?"

Girlfriend .

She could feel Kam's side eye, feel her waiting for a response. With all the confines that surrounded them, it wasn't something they'd put a label on. But she loved the easy way she said it, the offer to continue to build on the groundwork they had laid.

"Well, I mean, if you're going to blow it somewhere…" Dillon drew her a little closer as they walked, their hips pressed together. "I just hope you know, you'll never need to buy a kiss from me."

"I do know." Kam laced their fingers together, and they strolled down The Queen's Walk hand in hand.

As they reached the ticket window, however, Dillon considered stepping aside—distancing the dynamic between them.

But changed her mind.

Soon, they wouldn't have this. This freedom to be out together, with no heads turned their way. The ability to blend into crowds and do as they pleased. Kam's face would be everywhere, and their worlds would never be the same. So for now, she kept her hand in Kam's as they wound through the queue. No one noticed. No one cared. Not even the disinterested ticket seller, who hardly raised an eyebrow as Kam forked over nearly a thousand pounds to reserve thirty minutes of privacy.

"No refunds. Enjoy the ride," came the man's monotone drawl as he shoved the ticket through the window with the credit card receipt.

An hour later, Dillon sat on a bench in the center of what felt like a revolving fishbowl as it slowly made its way toward the sky. Kam stood at the outer edge of the capsule, with her forehead pressed to the glass.

"The view is gorgeous! Won't you come see?"

"I can see from here." She swallowed down the discomfort of the lump that rose in her throat the higher the pod climbed.

Kam turned to look at her, and in her dawning realization, an amused smile touched the corner of her lips. "Dillon." She crossed to the bench. "Why didn't you say you were afraid of heights?"

"I'm not afraid," she was at once defensive, "I just…"

"You're practically green." Kam laughed, tussling her hair, before flopping down beside her, and laughed again as Dillon flinched at the mild sway of the floating capsule. "I'd never have asked you to come on it if I'd known!"

"I know. It's why I didn't say anything."

The smile Kam gave her made the slowly disappearing ground more bearable, even as Big Ben turned into little more than a mantel clock.

Four more days . That's all they had left before Kam flew back to Los Angeles. And every hour seemed to fly by faster than the one before.

She knew Kam's schedule was packed. She knew, even once Kam wrapped up filming next week in the studio, there would be endless obligations she had to uphold. But still, she couldn't help but ask the question that had been gnawing at her. The one she'd been holding out hope for.

"If I race Leeds—" the if tasted stale on her tongue, but hung there, unpleasant all the same, "—would you come watch me?"

Kam's smile slipped, her expression shifting to surprise.

"I thought you didn't like anyone to watch you compete?"

"I…" She didn't, usually. Sam. Seren. That was about it. And only because neither of them took no for an answer. But the pressure of racing, after Bermuda, after Yokohama… It had begun to feel insurmountable. She'd found it almost impossible to drag herself onto her bike trainer each night, after Kam had fallen asleep, or down to the private pool in her building, or off for a sunrise run. But, if Kam was there, somewhere on the other side of the finish line, she thought, maybe, she could find her fire again. "It's different with you. I know it's asking a lot—for you to fly back here so soon—"

"—of course I'll come! I'd love to come!"

The bitter taste of if began to fade.

"Yeah?" Dillon smiled.

"Yeah."

"I'll win it for you, if you come."

This time, Kam didn't return her smile.

"I don't need you to win it for me, Dillon. I just need you to not disappear on me again."

It was no longer the dizzying height of the pod that made it feel stuffy. Dillon swallowed, her gaze drifting to the skyline.

"Dillon." Kam took her hand, squeezing it, drawing her attention back to her. "There's something I want to ask you, and I need you to answer honestly."

She'd known this conversation was coming. She'd known Kam had been sitting on it, waiting for the opportunity. And she knew she owed it to her.

"Alright."

"Should I have been worried? About you?"

She didn't need her to clarify what she meant.

"No." The answer was too simple, but still, it was the truth. "I just needed some time to clear my head."

Kam digested this. "And have you ever… In the past, I mean…"

"I thought about it." Dillon cut her off, saving her the discomfort of asking. "Once. Shortly after my dad died." She worked her jaw, again glancing away from Kam's searching gaze. "I was—it was a rough time for me—with everything that happened. But I got through it."

Thoughtful, Kam slipped her hand into Dillon's. "Please don't scare me again." She stared at their entwined fingers. "If you need time—if you need space—that's all you have to say. You don't even have to tell me where you're going. I just want to know you're safe."

The observation wheel continued to revolve, their pod cresting the highest point of the circle, but Dillon didn't notice. She'd forgotten any fear of falling. There were other things in life far more frightening to face—like being asked to make promises she wasn't certain she could keep.

"Okay," she said at last, as the wheel began to descend over South Bank. "I can do that."

"You give me your word? You won't just disappear?"

"Yes." She meant it. Never once had she taken a promise lightly.

Kam's hand relaxed. Behind them, Buckingham Palace slipped out of sight, but neither of them cared. The view had been forgotten completely.

Sighing, Kam leaned forward, resting her forehead against hers.

"You should know—I think I'm in love with you, Dillon Sinclair," she whispered, before pushing herself to her feet, giving Dillon no chance to respond as the pod settled onto the offloading track and the door slid open.