“Devon, I gotta go.”
“What? It’s early yet,” he said, checking his watch. “Portia hasn’t even cut the cake. You can’t leave yet.”
“I’m not feeling well. Let her know, will ya? Tell her I’ll call her tomorrow—she’ll understand.” I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and took off before he could argue further. I didn’t look back at Drake, fearing he’d see all the conflicts within. I needed him to believe I hated him, since the alternative would mean he’d know how bad he’d hurt me. That was unacceptable. I wanted to, at the very least, save my dignity.
I made it out the door and halfway down the stairs before I removed my shoes. I could flee faster without them and was certain that speed was of the essence. Sadly, the city’s cab drivers didn’t feel the same way, so I had to walk a few blocks barefoot. When I was finally able to flag one down, I climbed into the backseat for what promised to be a long, expensive, and reflective ride home.
Chapter 14
The cab rolled up in front of my building. I paid the driver and eased my feet back into my heels before sliding out of the car. As the driver pulled away, I stood on one very wobbly leg, adjusting the strap around my ankle. Once I was satisfied I wasn’t in immediate danger of physical harm, I started walking to the front door of my building. I took one step when my attention was drawn to the man sitting on the bench near the entrance, who just also happened to be the very same man I had been trying to flee. He hadn’t noticed me yet and I was frozen in place. I couldn’t fathom why he was there, but it ruffled my feathers that he’d beaten me. Apparently, the cab drivers of this city weren’t just biased to pretty women.
Bastards.
My annoyance with the cabbies aside, I took a strange comfort in Drake’s appearance, as there was a noticeable stiffness to it. The top two buttons of his shirt were popped open, allowing his tie to hang loosely around his neck. His attire said relaxed and comfortable, but his posture was anything but. Hunched over, with elbows resting on his knees, he was staring at his shoes. His hands were clasped with his fingers laced tightly. I dared to think he appeared... nervous.
I continued to watch him, not knowing what to do next. There should have been a whole mess of city and other people between us by now, but he was sitting twenty-five feet away from me. I left the party trying to avoid any further uncomfortable situations and instead, landed smack dab in the middle of one. He lifted his head and those beautiful eyes met mine. The confliction bubbled up again, but I squashed it down, allowing my anger have the driver’s seat.
I walked as quickly as I dared in the stilettos of death towards the entrance, fully intending to ignore him and go inside, but I found myself marching his way instead.
“Are you stalking me now? What, it wasn’t enough you managed to ruin the party for me, you had to come here to finish the night off too?”
He rose from the bench, sliding his hands into his pockets. It was such a simple gesture, but something about it caused my cheeks to flush. My attention was drawn to his long, lean legs, which began my visual journey up to his chest, making me remember how he looked without his shirt and the feeling of his skin on mine. Damn it, NO!
I shook off my erotic detour down memory lane. “Seriously, what the hell are you doing here?”
“I think we need to talk.”
“The hell we do. I have nothing to say to you.”
That wasn’t true. I had plenty to say, but couldn’t shake the memory of how he’d looked naked. Therefore, I didn’t trust myself to be alone in his presence for more than a few moments. The distrust only intensified when a light breeze brought the faint scent of his cologne my direction, causing me to struggle not to take a deep breath and allow my eyes to flutter closed. Instead, I turned from him, fully meaning to stomp away, but temporarily forgot about the stilettos of death. With all the grace of a monkey making love to a football, I rolled my ankle and lost my balance.
He reached out to catch me as my balance faltered. His hand wrapped around my arm until I found steady feet again. That single touch sent a shock wave of thrills racing through my body, impossible to ignore. I cursed my traitorous heart.
“Are you all right?” he asked, and I nodded. He released me, sliding his hands back in his pockets with the gentle sophistication so few men possess. “Look, you don’t need to say anything if you don’t want to, but please at least hear me out.”
I didn’t want to hear him out. I didn’t want the excuses about why he’d used me to cheat on his girlfriend or why he’d run out afterwards like a coward. I didn’t want to hear any possible reason why I’d been so drawn to a painting he’d been inspired to paint after our one night together. I couldn’t allow one single word of his to seal over the gaping chasm of hurt he’d caused. I needed to hold onto it and its anger bedfellow, if I was going to make it out of this situation without my barely mended heart withering in my chest. All the same, I stood there, waiting for him to speak.
“I need you to know... the night we met, I wasn’t at the club looking to hook up. Katarina and I had another one of our legendary fights. I needed to get out of the house and didn’t care where I went, as long as the place had alcohol. The club was Zane’s idea. My biggest hope for the evening was drinking myself into a coma, but then I saw you...” He shook his head, as if he’d lost his train of thought. “I know, I should’ve approached the whole situation with you differently, been honest from the get-go, and not allowed things to progress the way they had, but I couldn’t help myself.”
Oh man, he had been so close to drawing me in until those last four little words. “You couldn’t help yourself? Wow, what did Katarina think when you told her that excuse?”
“That’s not what I meant—it came out wrong.” He was flustered and since my temper was flaring again, I took great satisfaction in that. “Besides, I doubt it would have mattered much to her then and it matters even less now that she’s not my girlfriend anymore.”
I wasn’t buying it. Well, at least my brain wasn’t. My subversive little heart was yelling from the rooftops, Free at last, free at last! Thank God Almighty, he’s free at last! Luckily, at that moment, my brain was still operating my mouth.
“Oh, really? Does she know that?”
He sighed and nodded. “Yes. We had a very complicated relationship but it’s been over for a long time. We put the final nail in the coffin right after the dinner party. I understand, given my past behavior, why you’re having difficulty believing me, but I wouldn’t be here now if it wasn’t the absolute truth. I would have ended it with her the morning after we were together, but there were... obligations, business obligations, and we had to present a “together” front. The dinner party was one of them. I knew you deserved better than some sleazy affair, so I promised myself to stay away from you until I was absolutely free to pursue you. It took every ounce of my willpower.”
“What a load of crap! It must not have been that hard, considering the way you bailed out on me. Tell me, did you stay until the sun came up, or did you just wait until the moment I feel asleep before slithering away?”
“I understand why you’re angry, but I need you to believe me. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. There was something in your eyes that night at the club that told me...”
“Told you what?” I snapped.
“You were going to be the one to understand me.” He paused. “Does that even make sense?”
“No, it doesn’t,” I lied, not wanting to admit it made perfect sense. I’d seen it too, the sorrow deep within him singing to the hidden, broken part of my soul and feeling there was finally someone else who could distinguish that pain yet somehow take it all away. It had been the reason, no matter how hard I’d tried the past few weeks to block him out, he had never been far from my thoughts. It was the same reason I kept his flannel and why, despite my anger, I couldn’t help but be near him now.
“Don’t hold this against me. I never meant to hurt you and I certainly never meant for you to
find out about Katarina the way you did.”
“I doubt you meant for me to find out at all.”
I wasn’t sure that was true. Everything he said seemed sincere, but my fury was still driving the bus, leaving rational thought as a forgotten passenger. So I turned on heel, carefully this time, and tried to retreat. I was almost to the door when he called my name. Before I could make it inside, he took hold of me, pulling me in close. I had been dropped into emotionally dangerous territory, directly behind enemy lines.
“Olivia, I can’t let you walk away unless you don’t feel the same. If I’ve imagined the whole thing, I’ll leave you alone.” His voice took on an edge of intensity. “Tell me you don’t feel it.”
My breath hitched in my chest, being in such close proximity to him. He held my hand. It was minimal physical contact but emotionally it was plenty. My brain continued trying to call the shots, but my heart, the little treacherous bastard, was gaining ground. It screamed for me to close the small distance between us, throw caution to the wind, and allow this to happen. The electricity between us was overwhelming and impossible to deny, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to try.
“I don’t feel it,” I said, looking at his chest.
“You’re lying.”
“No, I’m not,” I said, again into his chest.
“Oh, you’re not? Olivia, look me in the eyes and say it then.”
His voice was confident as he made the demand, with good reason. I was screwed six ways to Sunday. There was no way I was going to pull this off and he knew it. Part of me wanted to mean it but, every time he said my name, my resolve slipped further away. Self-preservation mode kicked in, trying to cling to my anger. When my eyes met his, I was fully prepared to lie my ass off, until all the words were carried away on that sea of tranquility again.
“Give me a chance.” His voice was softening, as he was winning the battle.
“No.” It came out less forceful then I intended, so I repeated the word again, more for myself than anything. If I gave him the chance he was asking for, there’d be a greater possibility for rejection, making the past few weeks seem like kitten kisses in comparison.
He dropped my hand and I thought, Yay! You did it, way to be strong! Meanwhile, my heart ached again at the loss of his touch. Before my brain could celebrate what was feeling very much like an empty victory, he raised a hand to my cheek. His fingers caressed ever so slightly, and his palm cupped my face. His other hand mimicked the gesture and, before I could protest, his lips were on mine.
He kissed me very softly at first, just a tiny exploration. I didn’t want to kiss him back, but how could I not? When his lips found mine, the connection permanently seared into my soul. It was real and, quite possibly, the only thing I’d been completely sure of in my entire life. Despite his horrendous lapse in judgment and how badly he’d hurt me, I didn’t want to deny it existed.
His lips left mine and I released a little sigh, before I could help myself. When I opened my eyes again, he was wearing a smile. It was a concise, knowing smile. On another man’s face, it would have been arrogant, but he wore it well. That small kiss was all the excuse I needed to lose all reason. Set adrift on that shining sea, I grabbed a fistful of his shirt, pulling his lips back down to mine, where they belonged.
My body ignited at the reclaimed memory of his kiss. The ground fell from beneath me as he swept me up in his arms and I locked mine around his neck. The length of my body was firmly pressed against his as he took a few steps. I had no idea where he was taking me, nor did I care, so long as he never let me go. I wrapped my legs around his waist, clinging to him tighter. The rest of the world completely fell away, until I heard a disembodied voice tell us to “Get a room”.
Reality came crashing back around us, as I pulled away for a breath. A blush rose in my cheeks. Although the world had fallen away from us, we had not fallen away from the rest of the world, and we had been giving the neighbors one hell of a show. In a somewhat lame attempt to reclaim a little bit of dignity, I carefully unwound my legs from around his waist and slid back down to the ground, fixing my dress as I went. My head came to a rest on his chest and I tried not to wilt with embarrassment. He let out a soft chuckle and kissed the top of my head. He tipped my chin up, bringing my eyes to meet his. If he was as mortified as I was, it didn’t show. He leaned in, laying another soft kiss on each of my cheeks before a third found my lips. In the distance, I heard a car door shut, but I was so swept up in our moment I paid it little heed.
“Ahem.”
Drake and I pulled apart again to see Devon standing a few feet away. I really can’t explain why, but my stomach sank. It may have had something to do with lying to leave the party, or maybe it was the less-than-bemused look on his face.
“Hey Dev.” I tried to keep my voice cool and calm... Yet, at that moment, I was neither.
He took a slow stride up to us, sliding his hands in his pockets as he advanced. There was something very different about the way he and Drake made the same gesture. Drake did it with a casual flare, where Devon’s flare reeked of disappointment...in me.
“Hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
Devon may have said the words casually, but his tone suggested otherwise. I wasn’t sure Drake caught it, but I sure as hell did. Drake simply laughed and ran a hand through his own hair. I shot Devon a look to convey he sure as hell was interrupting and he should turn around and go back the way he came. But if he caught my gaze’s meaning, he chose to ignore it.
I still had a tight hold on Drake’s hand, but Devon subtly grabbed my other and squeezed... hard. “Olivia, can I talk to you for a minute?”
I nodded with teeth clenched, due to the pain being inflicted on my poor fingers.
Drake quickly took Devon’s rude but obvious queue. “Yeah, I should get going anyway.”
Devon reluctantly let go of my hand when I shook him off to follow Drake a few steps away to say goodbye. We spoke in hushed whispers as I gave him my phone number. He promised to call soon, followed by another small kiss. I watched him go, not wanting to turn back to Devon. The hoochies at the party had been right, Drake had a fabulous posterior, but once he was around the corner, I had no other choice but to face my B.F.F.
Devon held his forehead, pushing his brow together with tense fingers and muttering to himself, “This is not good. This is soooo not good.”
I wasn’t sure what to say as I walked back his way. Sure, I’d lied to leave the party and, from his point of view, it probably appeared I did it to come home and hook up with Drake, but nothing could have been further from the truth. The fact that Drake was here just happened to be a happy twist of fate. But even if the former had been the case, I didn’t really think it was the huge deal Devon seemed to be making it into. It wasn’t like I killed his pony or something. When he raised his head and those blue eyes finally met mine, where I had fully expected to see more anger, there was only worry.
“What are you doing, Liv? Is this why you came home?”
“No... I came home because... He was already here when I...” I couldn’t form a coherent sentence to save my life.
“You and Drake together is a bad idea. Like, in the epically bad sense of bad.”
“What! Why?”
“He’s a Reaper who just broke up with his very long-term girlfriend.”
“I already know about all that, but... wait... how do you know about it?” I poked an accusatory finger in his direction.
“Katarina needed someone to talk to the other night. Besides, she told me the reason they split was because he slept with another woman and...” I had to give Devon credit. He put everything together rather quickly, but it also could’ve had something to do with me wincing when he said the last part. I didn’t know I had been the ultimate cause of their relationship’s demise. Drake failed to mention that part. Devon grabbed me by the shoulders. “Please tell me you didn’t. Oh, for the love of God, tell me it wasn’t you.”
I sucked
air through my teeth. “I didn’t know he had a girlfriend when it happened. But it only happened that one time, I swear.”
“Oh, Liv.” I never realized two tiny words could carry so much concern. He dropped his head. “This just went from epically bad to... I don’t know... What’s worse than epic? You know what? Never mind, it doesn’t matter. You cannot get involved with him.”
“Excuse me?” I yanked my shoulders free from his grasp. There were days when I was glad my father moved on because, between Tore and Devon, I had more male “protection” than one girl could ever need. So, rather than being flattered that Devon was concerned about my well-being, I became defensive.
“Listen ...” he started.
“No, you listen. What gives you the right to tell me who I can or cannot date? Where do you get off? Especially, considering, from the sound of it, you’re getting kinda chummy with Katarina.”
“Hey! We’re just friends and don’t you dare make this about me. I’m only saying this out of concern.”
“Concern for what?”
“For you, dumbass!” Taking a deep breath, he lowered his voice before continuing, “Look, I’ve known her for a long time; their relationship is ridiculously complicated. Remember when I told you, even if she broke up with her boyfriend, I didn’t want to get involved with her on the rebound? I said that with good reason. I just don’t want you to get caught in the middle of their shit storm.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“You’re going to get hurt.” The worry still lay heavily on his face and carried thickly through his voice.
You’re going to get hurt. The words rang through my ears. He said them with such conviction and certainty. I had never seen him like this before, so troubled. Yet I couldn’t understand why the possibility of me dating Drake would cause him such distress. As touched as I was by his concern, I felt it was misguided. I opened my mouth to tell him such, but he cut me off, taking me by the shoulders again.
Prayer for the Dead (Revenants in Purgatory) Page 11