by S. M. West
“Thinking I was pregnant was my wake-up call.” I swallow the shame and anger. “A child meant I’d be forever linked to Brock, and it finally made me realize I had to stop waiting for the right moment to leave him. There was never going to be a right time.
“I think fear paralyzed me but seeing the one blue line on the plastic doohickey was enough to get my ass in gear. But Drew, if I was pregnant, this wouldn’t be your concern.” My voice is strong and crisp.
“Pippa.” Drew kneels in front of me, and my stupid stomach flutters as he clasps my shaky hands in his. “I’d love any child of yours, whether I was the father or not, because it would be a part of you.”
His words cage me and like a trapped animal, I’m rash and frantic, grabbing at his face and pulling his lips to mine. His words do things to me that I can’t bear to dissect for fear of what I could lose again if I gave into my wildest dreams. Instead, I want to block all thought out and only feel. Feel him.
He kisses me hard, stealing all my air. Passionate and possessive. My eyes flutter closed as his mouth hungrily assaults mine. In unison, we stand, and greedily, I pull him by the waist, bringing his body against mine.
My hands wander wildly of their own volition. First gripping his ass, then skating along the hard planes of his back, and finally threading my fingers through his hair.
Frantic, I surrender to the overwhelming lust living and breathing inside of me. This is the beginning of the end. Of us.
His kiss trails off, but his lips linger on the corner of my mouth and my hands freely roam his body from his broad shoulders, to the back of his neck, down his defined back to his tapered waist. He threads his fingers through my hair and prickles skitter across my scalp, yanking me out of my torturous thoughts of a future without Drew.
24
Drew
The sun has barely cut through the darkness when banging on the front door wakes me. Pippa is snuggled in the crook of my arm and it takes everything within me to get up, grab some clothes and get the door.
Paige.
She’d called both of us while we were otherwise occupied last night. Incessantly, but her calls went unanswered. At one point, Pippa almost stopped what she was doing with her amazingly gorgeous mouth, actually considering picking up her ringing phone. At that thought, it’s tempting to let my sister chill outside for another hour.
Yawning, I open the front door and Paige stands in the doorway. A box from our favorite French patisserie catches my eye and a hungry smile steals my lips.
“Please don’t tell me you two were screwing.” She barges past me with a naughty grin.
“Hello to you too.” I shut the door and yawn, following her into the house. “What’s got you up at the crack of dawn?”
“I’ve been craving Rahier’s chocolatines and you know if you don’t get there before seven forget about it. And then once my tired ass was up and out, I decided to head up early and share. You’re welcome.” She places the box of rich, buttery chocolate goodness on the counter and starts to remove plates from the cupboard. “Where’s Pippa?”
“Sleeping,” I say at the same time her best friend enters the kitchen.
“I’m right here. Nobody can sleep with the scent of chocolatines in the air.”
Pippa’s hardly awake, more like a walking vision of sleepiness, in her yoga pants and hoodie with her golden hair bunched on top of her head.
Beautiful.
My lips curve up at the corners when her eyes land on me and a glow blooms deep within me, warming me to the bone.
“Oh my.” She sinks her teeth into the flaky chocolate-filled croissant and moans. My stomach tightens and groin twitches. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?” Pippa stares longingly at my sister and Paige basks in the adoration.
“Why, yes, you told me yesterday when we talked, but I can never get enough.”
They link arms and rest their heads together, and the sight brings a sting to the corners of my eyes. What the hell?
Coffee. We need coffee. I push away the surge of emotions that have been building for weeks. I can hardly believe the woman I love with every fiber of my being is back in my life.
We’ve pussyfooted around what we’re doing and yes, I’ve deliberately held my tongue, not wanting to rock this blissful boat, but we do need to have a come to Jesus moment. It’s inevitable.
Shaking away my thoughts, I busy myself making coffee while they talk about Paige’s work and her latest failed date. Try as I might to block out the gory details of my sister’s love life, I fail miserably.
“It was a Vienna sausage. I kid you not!” Paige declares, holding her thumb and forefinger not even two inches apart.
“Jesus Christ, please stop. I just vomited in my mouth.” I place a mug in front of each of them.
“Oh, gross!” Paige jumps back, screwing her face in disgust.
Pippa laughs, shaking her head. “I want to hear what she has to say. I haven’t been on the dating scene in ages. These are things I need to know.”
I stand ramrod straight, my features tensing, and the air thickens. She didn’t say what I think she did. Did she?
“You don’t have to worry about any of that.” My gaze locks onto Pippa, and my sister watches intently as her best friend tilts her head to the side and studies me curiously. I wait, expecting her rebuttal or protest, but nothing. Eventually, she breaks eye contact, shifting her gaze to the view of the lake.
“Do you want this?” Paige says, hoping to break the weird vibe in the air.
She holds out her half-eaten pastry and I shake my head. My appetite is gone, and I’m stuck wondering what Pippa’s non-answer means. This is why we need to talk. She seems intent on fighting the idea of getting back together.
“Guess what I did last night?” Paige coyly asks.
“I don’t know. What?” Pippa obliges and asks.
“I watched the football game—with Claire.”
“Football? With Claire?”
Pippa and I stare at Paige, confused because none of that makes sense.
“Well, I was bored, and I’d heard about Claire’s meeting with Matthew Carruthers.” Paige waggles her eyebrows and licks her lips.
I’d shared my version of the night Brock showed up with my sister and none of it included Claire and Matt. So she heard something from someone else. But I’m still not making the connection. Something happened with Claire and that football player? I was too busy worrying about Pippa and wanting to restrain myself from killing Brock to notice much else.
“Damn, I’d have liked to meet him. Anyway, I made her watch the game. That girl is too high-strung when you take away her study materials.”
“And?” I prompt impatiently, having lost interest in this conversation.
“And nothing.” She gives me a pointed look. “Oh, that’s not true.” She perks up like she’s just remembered something. “I didn’t want to bring this up but did you guys see what happened to Brock?”
My head snaps up and locks onto Paige, then Pippa. She looks just as much in the dark as me. We both say in unison, “No, what?”
“His knee. I don’t know exactly what happened, but last night’s game. Shit, it all happened so fast. One minute he was up and the next, down on the field. It was awful. It doesn’t look good.”
“Dammit,” Pippa mumbles, rubbing her forehead. “He’s out for the season?”
“I think so. That’s what some of the commentators were speculating but who knows.”
The room is tense, as if we’re all hanging from a ledge and not sure how much longer we can hold on. I grab my sister’s phone and pull up the browser, searching for the news.
We watch in silence, huddled around the small screen. It’s the same knee he had surgery on years ago. Both women gasp at the moment when a player from the opposing team inadvertently lands on Brock’s knee. The beast collapses in agony. Nasty.
“Fuck.” I rub at the back of my neck and Pippa nods.
Brock’s inj
ury could mean any number of things. He could take the situation out on Pippa. Not physically, thank fuck, but through the divorce. Or shit, if he’s out for the season, as soon as he’s on his feet, he could come here. Get in her face.
“Well, we can’t do anything about this now,” Paige says.
“Yeah, we’ll have to wait and see,” I offer weakly.
Pippa nods but adds nothing. She’s lost in thought with a worried look and teeth nibbling on her bottom lip.
“So, what else is new?” Paige tries again to move the conversation along.
Pippa lifts her head, turns her attention to Paige, and her expression morphs slowly as a smile dawns and she comes out of her fog.
“I’ve got two job interviews.”
“What?” Paige jumps up and down, squeezing Pippa tight. “Tell me more.”
“One’s with New York—”
“And the other is Toronto.” I can’t help myself and interject as if that will make Pippa choose Toronto.
Pippa narrows her eyes at me and Paige squeals, “Toronto!” She claps her hands like a happy child. “Just imagine what that could mean. Tell me more. I want to hear it all. When did this happen? How?”
“Slow down, tiger.” A small reluctant smile glides across Pippa’s shuttered expression. “It’s with the North.” Her voice is quiet, too reserved for someone so close to having her dream job. “But I also have an interview with the Fury.”
“Wow, Pip, that’s amazing. I’m so excited for you.” Paige does another jump and squeeze. “Which one do you hope to get?”
“I’m not sure,” Pippa says. At the same time, my voice unintentionally overrides hers with a loud and resounding, “Toronto.”
When will I learn to shut up?
Pippa’s gaze snaps to me, surprised and upset.
Unaware or maybe too aware and wanting to avoid the impending collision between Pippa and me, Paige doesn’t miss a beat.
“Oh my god, Pip, can you imagine if you got it? We’d see each other all the time. It’d be like old times. Shit, you could move in with me.” Her smile is as bright as Madison Square Garden.
“I want New York,” Pippa says flatly, her fiery gaze never leaving mine. “Of course, that’s if they offer me the job.”
“What?” My eyebrows arch and I step closer to her.
“Oh.” Paige’s enthusiasm fizzles a bit at that news, but she quickly catches herself, her smile firmly in place.
“Yeah, I’ve always wanted to live in New York and the Fury are an amazing team. Why wouldn’t I go?” She’s challenging me and stupid as I am, I take the bait.
“Because your family’s in Toronto. Working for the North would mean being close to your parents, your brothers and sister.”
Silence descends on the kitchen again, like death, and our gazes remain fixed on each other. I can’t help but think the tension and uncertainty of Brock’s injury coupled with my foolish comments about her future job have created this stranglehold, intensifying our emotions, our reactions.
Paige fidgets from foot to foot but knows better than to add her two cents. Not now. Not when I don’t even know what’s going on.
Time passes between us, it may only be seconds, but it feels like hours, and when it’s obvious Pippa isn’t going to say anything further, I do.
“Why wouldn’t you want to stay in Toronto?”
She finally moves, blinking at my question, and turns her head to glance at Paige and then around the now-brightening kitchen. The sun is gradually rising in the pale blue sky and casts an airy glimmer on the room.
“It’s not about being close to my family. It’s about doing something I love, and New York isn’t that far. Why do you think you get to choose for me?”
“I wasn’t choosing for you.” It may have sounded like that and dammit, I looked like an ass. Like Brock, domineering and controlling. “I just thought you’d want to be here.”
“Why?” She stands, squaring her shoulders.
“Because your family is here. Because I’m here.” My voice is choked and stripped bare.
I’m exposed.
Longing and hoping I am enough.
Longing and hoping she sees we belong together.
Our past is a potent mixture of tragic contradiction, perfection and mistakes, but we can’t get trapped in all of that. The past is where it belongs. Behind us.
We belong together.
She releases a long and crestfallen sigh, shaking her head, and pushes from the counter. The distance grows between us.
“Did you even stop to think about me?” Expressive ocean-blue eyes slice through my chest and my heart spasms, achy and splintering.
“I think about you every day.” My confession is bold and unapologetic.
Conflict cloaks her features as her body stiffens and her eyes widen. Paige murmurs from her side of the room, and I suddenly remember we aren’t alone. My sister casually backs up toward the door, most probably wishing to vanish, as do I.
Doing this in front of Paige isn’t ideal. I’d declare my love for Pippa anywhere. I’m not embarrassed or hesitant in the least, but Paige’s presence has Pippa guarded. Scratch that, more guarded than usual.
Pippa isn’t one to hold back or mince words. She’s always just said it like it is. But she’s different now. Or at least, different with me. I’ve caught her a few times pausing, weighing what her options are before responding to me. She’s not the spur-of-the-moment, say-it-like-it-is woman I used to know.
“Paige, why don’t you grab a chair and watch the show?” My question is pointed, sarcastic and uncalled for.
My sister’s eyes narrow into thin, dark slits and her hands land on her hips. “Actually, I was going to grab some popcorn first.” Her acidic, sarcastic tone is fitting and well-deserved, especially since she was trying to leave.
Pippa snorts and they share a look that only friends who’ve grown up together can.
“Good one.” Pippa flashes a dry smile and turns to me. “She can stay.”
“No, I’m going.” Paige walks from the room and we find ourselves alone.
“Talk to me.” My voice is raspy, a mixture of demanding and pleading.
“I can’t do this.” She pivots on her heel, but I grab her shoulder gently, stopping her in her tracks. She doesn’t turn to look at me.
“Do what? Face that you and I belong together. That all these weeks we’ve been finding our way back to each other.” My voice rises with each word, more emphatic and more urgent and I twirl her to face me.
“We’re… we’ll always be friends. I’ll always love you. Like family.” Her lips tremble and her countenance tenses painfully, but she forces herself to look me in the eye as she recites a Dear John letter.
“We’ll always be family, but the rest—ancient history. We’re broken. You broke us.” Her words sear through my heart and the pain is unbearable. “We’re beyond fixing.”
Bullshit.
I can’t bring myself to believe anything she’s saying.
“What are you talking about? That’s what we’ve been doing here, since you came home with me.”
She gapes, cocking her head to one side in confusion, and my anguish and frustration grows. Why can’t she see what I see? Feel what I feel? It’s as obvious as the nose on my face.
We are salvageable. We’ve been finding our way back to one another. We are not a lost cause.
“I thought we were…” My voice trails off, not sure I’m getting past her blank stare.
“We were what?” she clips, lips thinning.
Now lost and confused, I can’t wrap my head around why she’s deliberately denying any headway we’ve made. The significance of the hours and days we’ve been together. Getting to know each and slowly repairing the cracks in our hearts.
“What are we doing?” I feel like a needy teenager, so in over my head.
“We’ve been having sex, Drew,” she says vehemently. “Fucking. Nothing more.”
She runs from the
room and she might as well have struck me with a fiery torch; my insides burn, and I’m paralyzed. When I finally do get my shit together and decide to go after her, Paige stands in the doorway.
“You okay?” Her deep brown eyes are filled with tenderness.
“Why is she fighting this? Us?” I hate how desperate and shattered I sound.
“She’s scared. She’s loved you for forever and you left her.” She doesn’t say it with malice, but it doesn’t lessen the gut-wrenching sting. “She’s not ready to face what this is.”
My eyes flick from my sister in the direction Pippa fled.
“What is this?” There’s hope in my tone. The hope that if Paige sees what I do, there may be a chance for Pippa to do so too.
“Love,” Paige whispers and smiles sweetly. “You two love each other and are meant for each other, but you’ve got a lot of stuff to work through. Pippa isn’t ready.”
“But what if she’s never ready?” Voicing my fear is chilling and, unable to stand still another second, I push past Paige.
“Leave her. She needs some space.” She grabs at my arm, stopping me.
“Do you realize what you’re asking me to do?” I ask, exasperated, running a jagged hand through my hair.
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t stand here and do nothing.”
She raises her dark brows, staring at me cynically. “Drew, it took you five years to do something.”
Fixing her with a hostile glare, I’m tempted to lose my shit. Her comment was low but she isn’t wrong, and I’m angry with myself not her. I need to face my part in this.
My biggest regret.
“Yeah.” Hanging my head, I give her my back.
Not even a minute later, the front door slams and we both catch sight of Pippa warming up for a run, earbuds in and face as hard as stone.
“For what it’s worth, I’m thrilled,” Paige says from beside me, nudging my bicep.
“What?”
Pippa is pissed at me and running away, literally. What is there to be thrilled about?
“I’m so happy you found your balls and went after her.”
Paige’s pleased smile grows tenfold as she takes in my shocked expression. Laughter bursts from deep within my chest, pushing past the lump lodged in my throat like water gushing over a crumbling dam. I can’t argue with how true her words are. My only wish is that I did it sooner.