“Fuck!” he snaps.
Will grabs his arm. “Mate, there’s kids around. Watch your language.”
He runs his hands over his shaved head. “I’ve fucked up.”
I point my finger at him. “What did you do?”
“I…. Shit!”
Torn between leaving to go after Carly and staying to tell Will everything I need to tell him, I choose my best friend when he says, “Go. We’ll talk later.”
I nod and leave, soon finding Carly outside.
“What happened?” I rest my hand on her back, her shoulders bobbing as she sobs.
“I… I just want to leave.”
“Okay. I’ll get Will to drive us home.”
She wipes her eyes. “Will?”
“Yeah. He won’t mind.” I wipe a tear from her cheek, my heart breaking at her distress. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay and sort it out?”
She shakes her head adamantly. “No.”
“Okay. I’ll be back in a minute.”
I head into the marquee again. Derek is standing with Bryce and Lucy, his head in his hands. I don’t know what he’s done, but whatever it is, it looks bad. Shit!
Not wanting to leave Carly alone for long, I approach Will who’s with the guy he was talking to earlier. “Hi. Sorry to interrupt—”
“Elizabeth, have you met Matt?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“He plays bass in the band.”
“Oh, that’s right. Nice to meet you.”
Matt tips his head, flicks his eyebrows, and grins while looking me up and down.
I narrow my eyes at him but focus back on Will. “I know this is a big ask, but would you mind taking Carly and me home? We came here with Derek, and she doesn’t want to see him right now.”
“Anything for my favourite Labia—”
I grab his arm. “Knock it off.”
“But you wanted—”
“That doesn’t matter right now.”
His eyes widen, and he passes Matt his beer. “Later, mate.”
I sigh, relieved. “Thank you.”
“No sweat, sweetheart.” He places his hand on the small of my back. “Let’s go.”
“Libby, hold up.”
I pause and turn to Derek, who’s stepping over toddlers to get to me.
“Is she okay?”
“What do you think?” I snap. “I don’t know what you’ve done, but I… I’ve never seen her this upset.”
“Just tell her I’m sorry and that I love her, and I should’ve told her.”
“Told her what?”
“Just tell her that. Please.”
His eyes beg me, and a small, sympathetic shred of my being feels sorry for the guy. He’s obviously kept something from her, for whatever reason, and now it’s backfired. I guess I can relate to his predicament. Sort of.
“I’ll tell her. But you need to tell her yourself. You understand? You need to make this right.”
“I will, when she lets me.”
“A word of advice, Derek: she won’t, so don’t wait too long.”
Will slaps him on the back. “I’ll get her home safe.”
“Thanks. Wait!” He points to both of us. “Are you two a thing?”
Will scoffs. “Nah, mate. She hates me.”
I smile. “Let’s just say he’s growing on me.”
As we leave the marquee, he leans in, his breath hot on my neck, and murmurs, “I can grow for you anytime you want, sweetheart.”
I nudge him with my elbow. “I know.”
Carly sobbed the entire way home and went straight to her room when we entered the house. Will kept Sasha occupied while I consoled her, and when she finally told me what happened, my heart broke for her. I also knew I had to tell Will my secret. And I had to tell him now.
“Is she okay?” Will asks as I enter the living room.
I shake my head. “No.”
“What happened?”
“I think you should ask Derek. It’s probably best you hear it from him.”
“That bad, ay?”
“Depends how you look at it. I guess I see both sides.” I fiddle with the hem of my cami.
“You wanna talk?”
“I do.”
He pats the spot on the sofa next to him. “Come here, sweetheart. I hate it when you’re so far away.”
My chest squeezes with love and apprehension, and my hands tremble. “I can’t have kids,” I blurt out before taking a seat. “I mean, there’s more to it than that, but the bottom line is, I had cancer in my fallopian tube when I was fourteen, so both tubes were removed. I’m sterile, and I’m okay with that. I have a classroom full of kids. They’re my kids, and I love each and every one of them. That’s why I became a teacher, to help raise kids I didn’t bring into the world. It’s the next best thing. I—”
“Whoa!” He blinks. “Slow down.” Will reaches for my hands and pulls me onto his lap. “You had cancer?”
“Yes. I suffer from Cowden Syndrome. You probably haven’t heard of it, because it’s rare. It’s inherited. Runs on Dad’s side of the family. Basically, I get multiple noncancerous growths on various parts of my body, but I have an increased risk of developing certain types of cancers. Breast, thyroid, endometrial, which is what I already had. I see a specialist every month and have scans multiple times a year.”
“Shit, Lib.” His misty eyes chase mine. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m not. It is what it is, but it does mean I’ll never have kids, and if you stay with me, you won’t either. And I… I don’t want to be responsible for that. You’re great with kids. Really great, and you deserve to have them. This is my brick wall in life, and I don’t want to be the reason for it becoming yours as well.”
He rubs the pad of his thumb across my cheek, and I close my eyes and lean in to his touch.
“Can’t you do IVF?”
“I can,” I say, opening my eyes, “but I don’t want to. I don’t want to pass this disease on, and if I have kids, there’s an exponential chance I will. I want it to stop with me.” I take his hand in mine. “I’ve made peace with my decision, but you don’t have to.”
Will gently tucks a tendril of my hair behind my ear. “I don’t want kids either.”
I rear back. “What? Of course you do. Why wouldn’t you?”
“Because I don’t. My kids are my animals. They’re enough. Always have been.”
Swiping his hand away, I stand up. “You’re just saying that. Don’t brush this off like it’s nothing.”
He stands up too. “I’m not.”
“I think you are.”
“Don’t tell me what I think and feel, Elizabeth.”
“I’m not.”
“Yeah, you are.”
“I just want you to let this all sink in, properly. Really understand what it means. I’m locked into this lifestyle; you’re not.”
“I know what it means.”
“Will, you need to think about this for longer than five fucking minutes,” I seethe.
The doorbell rings, and we both look toward the front door.
I sigh, my shoulders slumping. “I need to get that.”
“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.”
Huffing, I make my way to the door, look into the peephole, and find Lucy on the doorstep. “Shit!”
“Who is it?” Will whispers, his beard tickling my ear.
“Jesus!” I nearly jump out of my skin at his close proximity. “It’s Lucy.” Scowling at him, I open the door and say, “Hi” hoping she doesn’t want to speak to Carly.
“Hi.” She gives Will a quizzical glance then focuses back on me. “Is Carly here?”
Crap! “Yes, she is.”
“Can I come in?”
It’s probably not a good idea, but I step back and gesture for her to enter. “Surrre. I don’t think she’ll speak to you though.”
Lucy glides past me like an ethereal being, and I swear for a second that she is Belle fr
om Beauty and the Beast.
“So, she told you.” Lucy hangs her hands, one over the other, in front of her waist.
“She did.”
A half-smile creeps onto her face, and she points to Will then to me. “Are the two of you…?”
“Maybe,” I snap.
Her smile widens. “That’s wonderful!”
Will winks at Lucy and lifts his chin, smug-like.
I turn to him. “Go home.”
His smugness vanishes. “What? Why?”
“Take the time to think about what I’ve told you. Really take the time. You can’t do that here, now, with all this shit going on.”
“You’re kicking me out?”
“Yes, but”—I stretch up on my tippytoes and lightly peck his lips—“I’m hoping you’ll come back. And if you don’t, I understand. I won’t hold it against you.”
Will threads his hand across the back of my head and pulls me to him, teasing my lips apart with his tongue, his kiss firm and direct.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetheart.”
Chapter Seventeen
Carly and Derek sorted their shit out in the weeks that followed, thank God, and it was now time for Will and me to do the same.
He sent me numerous texts, telling me he thought about what I said and that his mind remained unchanged. It was what I wanted to hear, of course, but as painful as it was, I deliberately kept him at bay, forcing distance between us in the hope it would give him time to factor in every aspect that needed factoring, continuously replying with Take more time. I didn’t want him pursuing a future with me if he wasn’t one hundred per cent sure I was worth the sacrifice, because that’s exactly what being with me is—a sacrifice, a severing of ties to parenthood. And a decision like that deserves more than a sweeping thought.
Yawning, I stretch as I shuffle into the kitchen and switch on the kettle, phone in hand, Will’s latest messages on the screen.
Will: Elizabeth, stop avoiding me.
Will: I don’t need more time
A flicker of pain tickles my chest, and I rest my palm over my heart, unsure whether or not he really has thought about what being with me means. I know I can’t avoid him any longer, and I don’t want to. Every moment spent with him sparks new hope in ways I didn’t know existed.
In a perfect world, I’d be enough for him and he’d be enough for me. We’d fill each other’s voids and soothe the constant white noise. We’d smile for the other, bleed for the other, breathe for the other. We’d love enough. We’d be enough.
But the world isn’t perfect. It’s the water’s edge, enticing but rippled, murky and unclear, and the only way to find out what’s underneath is to dip in your toe and hope for the best.
I’m ready to dip now; I just hope he is too, like he says he is, but for the right reasons.
Leaning against the kitchen cupboards, I draw in a deep breath, about to reply, when another text comes through.
Will: Knock knock.
I giggle.
Me: Who’s there?
Will: Open your front door and see
My head springs up, and I shuffle in my slippers along the hallway, my skin prickling with excitement when a towering shadow swims across the frosted glass panel beside the front door.
This is it, make or break.
Puffing out a breath, I shake my hands, shedding the tension from my body, and unlatch the lock, swinging open the door to find him standing on the doorstep wearing a white polo shirt, collar—as always—up. His sunglasses are perched on his head, and one hand is in the back pocket of his jeans, the other braced on the doorframe, his inked bicep taut and deliciously obtrusive.
“Hi,” I say, exhaling with a whoosh.
He looks me up and down, a lazy grin forming on his face. “Mornin’, sweetheart.” His eyes flicker with excitement and desire.
I glance down, unsure what he’s stirred about, only to find that my sleep shirt is stained.
Scrunching up the spot, my laugh is a little foolish. “I… er… I spilled my Milo last night.”
He steps closer. “Cute.”
I step back. “It’s not cute. It’s piggy.”
He steps closer again, a predatory glint in his eyes. “Cute piggy.”
“Wait!” I hold up my hand. “We need to talk first.”
Will wraps his fingers around mine and brings my wrist to his lips, his eyes still alight with mischief and lust as he presses a kiss to my skin.
My knees wobble.
My eyelids close.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” he whispers.
My eyes snap open again, and I snatch my hand back and place it on my hip. “Oh, yes, there is! I need you to take this seriously.”
“I am.”
“No, you’re not.” I point at him. “You have sex eyes. Nothing is serious with you when you have sex eyes.”
Will chuckles and waggles his damn sex eyes.
Growling, I turn on my heel and head back to the kitchen. “Coffee?”
I don’t wait for his answer; he’s having one whether he likes it or not.
Grabbing the coffee and sugar cannisters, I lift an eyebrow when he stops in the doorway and speaks.
“I am taking this seriously, Elizabeth.”
“Just because you used my full name does not mean you’re taking this seriously.” I open the cupboard, pull out a coffee mug, and slam it on the benchtop. “I won’t have kids, Will. Ever.”
“I know.”
“And I might get cancer again.”
He pushes off the doorframe, moves to where I’m standing, and takes my hands in his, his voice calm. “I know.”
“My life isn’t simple. It’s an ugly time bomb that might explode or simply tick forever. I don’t have a choice in this, but you do.”
“I know.”
Tears prick my eyes. “Stop saying that.”
“What else do you want me to say?”
“I… I don’t know… that it scares you as much as it scares me.” A tear spills from my eye onto my cheek.
Will reaches up and wipes it away. “But it doesn’t.”
“Well, it should.”
“Why? Because all men and women should want kids and live the perfect, cosy life?”
“Yes!”
“Believe it or not, not everyone wants that.” He trails his fingertips along my hairline then tucks a tendril behind my ear. “It’s boring.”
I scoff. “That’s stupid.”
“It’s not stupid. I don’t want boring; I never have. I want fun, excitement, the unknown. I want a challenge, not what everyone else wants or has. I want the good times and the hard times. I want you.”
“But why?” I sob. “Why do you want me?”
“Because you’re hot as fuck.”
I shove him. “I’m serious!”
He grabs for me again. “I know! I’m sorry. I know.”
We stare each other down before he says, voice calm, “Because you’re serious when I’m not. Because you’re short and I’m tall. Because I make you smile when you don’t want to smile. Because you’re fierce and see the world for what it is. Because you’re smart, funny, beautiful, kind, and fucking annoying. Because you’re you, sweetheart. That’s why I want you. That’s why I choose you.”
“But you shouldn’t have to choose.” I close my eyes, inhaling deep before slowly breathing out. “I’ll be the reason you’re not a father, and one day, you’ll resent me for it. You’ll regret this choice you were forced to make, and I can’t…. I just don’t think I can live with that.”
“You’re not forcing me to make this choice. It was made long before you came along.”
I close my eyes, praying he’s telling me the truth. “So this is why you never settled down, because you told every woman you dated you didn’t want children?”
“Yes, and no.”
“No?”
He smirks. “None of them were you.”
I can’t help the smile that lights my ey
es. “Are you sure?”
“There’s no question here.”
“We’ll never have the fairy tale we deserve.”
Will shakes his head and smiles. “You don’t get it, do you? We can make our own fairy tale, together.”
“But—”
“No buts. You get me, and I get you. We fit. Sometimes it’s a squash—” He looks himself over then gives me a sheepish grin. “—but we fit. Like a pipe to an elbow joint.”
I blink. “A what?”
Sliding his fingers under my arms, he hoists me onto the benchtop and settles between my legs, his hands on my thighs. “Not all pieces that connect are the same.” He tips my chin up. “You’re one piece, and I’m the other.” Leaning forward, he softly pecks my lips. “We’re not the same, but we connect.”
I’m about to tell him he’s the sweetest man I’ve ever known, when he lifts his hand and makes a circle with his thumb and pointer finger and then pokes his other pointer finger inside it, pulling out and repeating the motion several times.
“See?” He grins, all teeth and tenacity. “Connection.”
I push at his chest and laugh. “I’ll give you connection.”
Will growls and reaches around my back, squeezing my arse before sliding my body across the benchtop into his. I gasp, my core a flutter of desire as I lock my ankles behind his back.
Searching his stormy sex eyes, I want to ask one more time if he’s sure I’m worth the sacrifice, but it’s as if he knows what I’m thinking, his pinched expression saying I should shut the hell up and focus on the fact that his cock is now pressing my clit.
Pushing the thought out of my mind, I surrender and rock into him, reaching down to cup my hand over his erection and giving him a light squeeze. He growls again, threads his hand into my hair, and pulls me to his mouth, his kiss hungry as he rocks his cock into the palm of my hand, hard and unapologetic.
Will’s tongue sweeps mine a little faster, a little messier, and all I want is to feel his silky warm skin against mine.
Lifting his T-shirt over his head, I let him take over and remove it while I unbutton the top of my sleep shirt. He tosses his shirt on the floor then coaxes the lapels of mine apart, his fingers skating across my breasts. My nipples peak, and I dig my heels into his arse and grab at the buckle of his jeans, frustrated as I fumble with the zip.
Connection (Temptation Series Standalones Book 2) Page 17