One Night

by Best, Victoria J.

  Liza broke the kiss first, another sigh escaping her lips. “I really have to go,” she said, regret in her voice.

  “You don’t have to,” I heard myself say. What the hell was I doing?

  She shook her head again. “No, I do.” She paused for a minute and I could tell she was going to say something else. “I have to think,” she added.

  Suddenly, we were both being more honest with each other. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, considering the whopper of a lie I had just told my lawyer. Running a hand through my hair, I stepped back and pulled the door open. There were so many things I wanted to say before she left, because I had a terrible feeling if she walked out the door, she wasn’t going to come back. It was stupid, I was being ridiculous. Instead, I just looked at her and nodded.

  “We’ll talk later,” she said as she stepped out of my apartment, but the look in her eyes said otherwise.

  I nodded again as she walked away. I wanted to watch her walk down the hall and get in the elevator, but I felt like a fool for the feelings I was developing for a woman I barely knew. Instead, I closed the door, sagging against it for a minute to collect my thoughts. Retrieving my phone from where I tossed it on the couch, I punched in Monroe’s number.

  “Liza is on her way down, take her home.” I didn’t ask, just barked the order into the phone.

  “Certainly, sir. Anything else?” he asked brusquely. Monroe and I had a long relationship and we were all-business, though I respected the man.

  “No, but make sure she gets inside okay.”

  I hit the end call button and tossed my phone back down on the couch, sinking down next to it. The conversation with Frank swirled around in my head. After the words had left my mouth, I wanted to instantly take them back, but how? Frank believed me and already began drawing up the paperwork. Besides, I had to be rid of Natalie.

  Cursing myself silently for being an idiot where Natalie was concerned, I stood and stomped into my office. There was too much to do now to get the gears in motion to reverse my stupidity with one woman I never loved, but in doing so, I may lose the one woman who may actually make me love again. Releasing a breath, I sat in my desk chair. I couldn’t think about it now, there was nothing I could do at this point but hope I didn’t destroy it all.

  I stepped from the building, gulping in the cold November air as if I was coming up from drowning. The warmth and desire I felt for Jackson moments before still lingered and I felt lightheaded. Getting away from him when I did was the smart choice, though my body hated me for it. I couldn’t understand how every second I was with him, the attraction I felt got stronger and stronger until it threatened to cut off my air supply. Jackson was my drug, and I was thoroughly and irrevocably addicted to him, even I was well aware of how ridiculous this whole situation was. How could I feel the way I felt about him after spending only three days with him?

  Shaking my head, I approached the car where Monroe stood, watching me, without giving away any of what he was thinking. It was unnerving, and I quickly slipped inside the car as soon as he opened the door. Without saying a word to me, Monroe pulled off the curb. As many times as Jackson showed up at my door that weekend, he knew the way and I didn’t have to tell him.

  Sitting back against the leather seats, I closed my eyes. Nothing in my life made sense anymore. It was as if everything I knew changed in a matter of three days, and I wasn’t sure what to do about it. After meeting Natalie in the hall, I was confused and disoriented and I hadn’t had a minute to think about it, not until I was alone in the car.

  Jackson was married. That statement was either present tense or past tense, and he didn’t give me any explanation. When I thought he was engaged before, I was skeptical about my future with him, but if he was married or had been married, I wasn’t sure what that meant for us. Was Jackson able to commit to anyone? Was I stupid to even think he would want that with me? I put my head in my hands as my mind raced. This was why I didn’t do relationships, this was why I didn’t get involved with men past a certain point. Here I was, spinning around and around, looking for a reason for his actions, trying to find something that said this thing between us wasn’t doomed, when everything pointed in the direction of destruction.

  The car stopped at the curb and I looked up quickly, my train of thought broken for the time being as I collected myself enough to get out of the car when Monroe opened the door. I must have looked pretty haggard because Monroe stood there for a minute and watched me as I started to walk away before he spoke.

  “Are you all right, Miss Deveroux?” he asked suddenly when I turned my back to him.

  I turned back around, a deep sigh escaping, though I hadn’t meant to let it.

  “Yes,” I lied, because having a conversation about Jackson with his driver was not something I was going to do.

  Monroe nodded. “I’ve been his driver since he was a kid, you know,” he started, and I wondered why he felt the need to explain anything to me. “And I never saw him behave with anyone the way he behaves with you.”

  Though I knew he meant to reassure me that Jackson had feelings for me, something about what Monroe said gave me pause. Maybe the way Jackson was towards me, and the way I was with him, wasn’t normal, and that was why neither of us ever behaved this way before?

  “Thank you,” I said, and he nodded again.

  I walked into the building. I hadn’t lied when I told Jackson I had some thinking to do. Unfortunately, I had too much thinking to do and I worried the more I thought about it, the less likely I would be to continue on with this charade of a relationship, though I had made the commitment to. Was it worth the risk?

  * * *

  The following week was the hardest week of my life, mainly because I couldn’t stop thinking about Jackson. While teaching, running, and doing everything a normal person does during a normal day, Jackson was in the front of my mind. By Friday, I was frustrated and even more baffled than I had been before. To make matters worse, I didn’t hear from Jackson all week and I wondered if he came to the same conclusion that I had—we weren’t good for each other. The constant push-and-pull between wanting to hear from him and see him, and knowing I shouldn’t, was exhausting. Friday evening, Nicolette found me lying face down on my bed, motionless.

  “What’s going on?” I heard from behind me but had no energy to turn around.

  In addition to my mind spinning all week, I was using running as a coping mechanism to get Jackson off of my mind and the extra physical activity had sapped what little energy I had left. I felt the bed dip as Nicolette sat down next to me and placed her hand on my back.

  “Is this about Jackson?” she asked with a hint of concern in her voice.

  I turned my head and looked at her. “I’m exhausted from work,” I fibbed.

  Nicolette raised an eyebrow at me. “Really?” she asked, her tone flat.

  “Yup,” I mumbled, my face back against the comforter.

  “Fine, be stubborn,” she huffed, and stood up to walk out of the room.

  I turned around to watch her because I felt guilty about keeping things from her and lying, but I also didn’t want to talk about it. She stopped in the doorway and turned to me.

  “Wanna go out?” she asked with a glint in her eye.

  I chuckled weakly. “Last time you convinced me to go out, you ditched me, and that’s how I ended up here.” I motioned towards the bed.

  “True, but we’ll go together. I promise not to ditch you.” She held her hand up, as if taking an oath. “Please, Liza. I need to blow off some steam,” she said with a frown.

  Here I was, being selfish again, when Nicolette had something going on in her life. It struck me that maybe we should be more open with each other from now on. Sitting up, I turned to her, crossing my legs and folding my arms across my chest.

  “All right, fine. Where do you want to go?” I asked her, instantly regretting it.

  Nicolette perked up, emitting a high-pitched squeal and r
unning towards me to grab my hand. I rolled my eyes.

  “Get up, shower, and get dressed!” she ordered.

  If nothing else, maybe a night out would distract my brain away from Jackson for a while.

  * * *

  Three hours later, we walked into the same club where I first met Jackson. The urge to turn around and run made my legs useless to move forward but Nicolette had a death grip on my hand and was pulling me towards the dance floor the second we entered the building. Even though I was thinking about Jackson because this was where we met, the bass of the loud music was drowning out almost every other thought. I was grateful for that.

  “Why did we have to come to this club?” I asked Nicolette close to her ear, so she could hear me.

  “Because they have the best drink specials,” she yelled back.

  “Then you’re buying,” I said, and it was her turn to roll her eyes.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Nodding, I pointed at a table just beyond the dance floor and we agreed with our eyes she would meet me back there. I pushed my way through the gyrating bodies, weaving in and out of the sea of people, until I reached the small, round bar height table. Tucking the short skirt Nicolette made me wear under my ass, I hoisted myself up onto the bar stool and crossed my legs. I could see straight to the bar from here and spotted Nicolette’s blonde head over the crowd as she took two drinks from the outstretched hand of a bartender. My line of sight moved over the crowd, sweeping the room to the right, past the dance floor, and to the booths over in a dark corner. I froze, my eyes locked on the one man I had hoped to forget about tonight.

  Jackson.

  At first, it wasn’t clear if he saw me, but when the expression on his face changed from one of amusement to that of intensity, I knew he had. He rose from where he sat, next to his cousin and two women. I forgot about waiting for Nicolette or anything else, as I hopped from the bar stool and pushed my way back through the crowd towards the front door. If I didn’t get out of there fast, I would be sucked in by him again. Foolishness made my face heat as I realized he was clearly on some sort of a date and here I was, waiting for him to call me all week. I was right to second-guess everything that happened the weekend before. He was a player, that much was evident, and I was stupid enough to fall for it. Anger bubbled just under the surface at how much time and energy I had wasted on thinking about him the previous week. How could I have been so stupid?

  “Where are you going?” I heard Nicolette shout after me as I blew past her, so mired in my thoughts I didn’t even see her.

  I stopped and turned around. “He’s here, I have to go,” I barked before turning back towards the exit.

  “Wait! Liza! I thought you wanted to see him?” Nicolette chased after me, the drinks sloshing over the side of the glasses as she did.

  “I didn’t know what I wanted, but it’s obvious he did. They’re here with some women, Nic, both of them.” I didn’t have to say Henry’s name for her to understand, because the hurt that flashed across her face let me know she had.

  “That motherfucker!” Nicolette yelled, before whipping around and searching the crowd for Henry.

  I stood, awestruck for a minute, as I watched her stroll up to the table where Henry sat with two busty, bottle blondes, and toss both drinks into his face before storming away.

  “Liza,” I heard behind me, and I cursed myself for stopping to watch Nicolette instead of running for the exit.

  I didn’t want to answer him, I didn’t even want to turn around, and for a beat, I contemplated confronting him to get it over with. But confrontation wasn’t my style. So, I ran, just like I had before at the hotel.

  “Liza!” he yelled after me, but I didn’t stop.

  I half-walked, half-ran to the exit, as fast as my heels would allow. When I finally burst through the door and into the cold, fall air, I shot down the sidewalk without any destination in mind. I shouldn’t leave Nicolette, but I couldn’t stay here either.

  “Taxi!” I shouted, as one flew past without stopping. I growled with irritation and kept walking.

  Tears of frustration pricked at my eyelids and I stopped to press the heels of my hands against them. I refused to cry about Jackson Radcliffe. I headed towards the end of the block, where I would try to catch another cab. My feet screamed in my stilettos because these shoes were not meant to run in, and I stopped again, sagging against a lamppost with annoyance.

  “Liza, please stop,” Jackson said from about fifteen feet away.

  The fight had all gone out of me and I was shivering from not only the frigid air but suppressing a sob. We stood there, on a dark, cold street corner in Uptown, for several minutes, without saying anything. There were many things I wanted to say but couldn’t, because I felt like this whole thing was mostly my fault anyway. I was the one who fell for it.

  “Why are you here?” I finally asked him, my teeth chattering.

  “How about we get in the car,” Jackson said, motioning to where Monroe sat in his car at the curb. I didn’t even notice he was there until he pointed it out.

  I shook my head. There was no way I was going to be alone with him right now. I’d lose my nerve and fall right back into the trap.

  “What about your dates?” I snapped. Petty didn’t look good on me.

  “Get in the car, Liza, it wasn’t a request,” Jackson barked, motioning towards the car again.

  He was being heavy-handed all of a sudden, and it was pissing me off. The good thing was that the anger was dissipating my melancholy.

  “I can’t get in the car with you now. Not after you’ve made a fool out of me,” I said, taking a few more steps away from him.

  Jackson grabbed my bicep, spinning me around so quickly I almost tripped. I braced myself against his chest, my hands grasping at his shirt so I didn’t fall over.

  Shit, he was too close.

  I tried to back up before my senses were overcome with Jackson and I couldn’t think anymore, but he held tight.

  “Let go,” I said weakly.

  “Not until you listen to me. You’re freezing, and I don’t want to have this conversation on the street. Get in the car with me.” This time, he said it as a request but I knew he wasn’t going to ask again.

  Because I didn’t want him to throw me over his shoulder and carry me to the car, fireman style, I decided to give in. Especially since I could no longer feel my feet.

  “You get three minutes,” I said.

  I anticipated he would let go of me to walk to the car but instead, he did what I was trying to avoid—he scooped me up into his arms and carried me to the car.

  “What are you doing?!” I yelled as he made his way to the car.

  “Making sure you don’t run again,” he growled before tossing me gently onto the seat.

  “Dammit, Jackson,” I said, as I sat up and smoothed my skirt back into place.

  He had the nerve to chuckle. “Can’t run this way,” he said again.

  I frowned. “Can we just get this over with,” I grumbled, because it was easier to maintain a distance if I was angry with him.

  He slid into the seat after me, his expression suddenly solemn. “I wasn’t on a date,” he mumbled as he slammed the door behind him.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I answered quickly, too quickly. I looked everywhere but at him, smoothing my skirt and picking off nonexistent lint.

  “Why did you run from me if it doesn’t matter?” He had me there. If I didn’t care, I would have stayed.

  “We aren’t really together. You made that abundantly clear this week. It’s all a sham.” I ignored his question and spat out a response, the last part with a venom I hadn’t intended.

  “Liza…” he began. His voice took on a gentle note that made me look away from him again. I preferred angry Jackson.

  I held up a hand. “You don’t owe me a thing. Not for tonight, not for Natalie, not for anything. It’s all business, remember?”

  He flinched at my words and look
ed away from me. When he returned my gaze, his dark eyes were blazing with rage and passion and something else I couldn’t identify. I scooted back on the seat about an inch because I knew that look; I knew what was going to happen next. With the agility of a cat, he closed the space between us, reaching for me. Gripping my waist with his large hands, he deposited me on his lap, facing him. My legs were on either side of his and my skirt was hiked up to my waist. I should have blushed at the very least, or pulled away from him, smoothed my skirt, and exited the car, but I didn’t do any of those things.

  Instead, he sucked me back in, like the drug addict I was. His mouth was on mine in an instant and I surrendered without a fight, sinking into him. My mind whirled from the speed with which I gave in to him, when I was so angry before and so ready to flee from him. All thoughts of abandoning Nicolette and our ruined evening were gone, and all that was left were Jackson and me. We were wrapped in each other’s arms, lost in the passion I couldn’t shake, no matter how many days I spent away from him or how much I tried to tell myself we weren’t right for each other. It was frightening but at the same time, I didn’t want to run anymore because I felt whole with Jackson. I felt like I was home.

  The idea terrified me on many levels but I didn’t fight it because I needed him tonight.

  We clung to each other, the pitch of our kisses increasing to the point of bruising, and still, I wanted more. Kissing and touching were never enough until he was inside of me and I ripped at his shirt, trying to undress him as quickly as possible. But he grabbed my hands, stopping me. I looked up at his face, the strain of self-control on his face evident in the way his brow was creased and his mouth was set in a tight line. Why was he stopping this?

  “Let me take you home,” he said gruffly, gritting his teeth.

  “No, let me go home with you,” I said, because I wanted nothing more than to be under him in his bed.

  Jackson shook his head. “No, not tonight,” he said.

  Rejection made me pull back, and I suddenly shivered from coldness that wasn’t there. Maybe I read this whole thing wrong, but I didn’t back away from the confrontation like I normally would. I needed a reason, for everything.