The moment I see him I am balled over by how handsome he is, he’s irresistibly, mouth wateringly sexy. I’m looking at a man who, thanks to project Scott, is the ultimate manifestation of female desire. He turns heads wherever he goes.
But that isn’t the reason I love him. It’s not the clothes, or the hairstyle, it isn’t even his body or face.
The Scott I love is the funny, intelligent, caring, loyal and lovely person I met all those years ago. That’s the Scott I long for, the Scott I can’t spend another day without. The trimmings and display are irrelevant.
“Hi there, Emma,” he grins.
His grin becomes a smile and it sends a surge of Hope through my veins, turning my legs to jelly and killing my ability to speak.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. I … yes,” I stutter. Emotion rushes through me and my heartbeat thuds in my chest, thundering in my ears. “I’m just surprised to see you,” I say once my words find their way back to me.
“And… happy?”
I nod as tears cloud my vision. “Ve
