by Nicole Dykes
He stares at the photo with me, both of us lost in the moment. “I didn’t want to leave you there, but . . .”
“But you weren’t ready for me.” I finish his sentence.
“I wasn’t. I don’t know if I’ll ever be.”
I stare at the beautiful photograph, remembering the stabbing pain I felt the next morning when I woke up, alone and confused. I was certain something had happened, maybe an emergency. My teenage mind went through every scenario, realistic and fantastic, because I couldn’t face the fact that he’d lied to me.
Used me.
And now, as I stand with him in this studio in front of the picture of that scene, maybe I wasn’t that far off. Maybe he didn’t use me, even though he thought he did. This very well could be our fantasy, our love story, a modern spin on all the old fairytales.
He wasn’t the cruel villain. But instead he was the beautiful, broken prince who, in fact, needed to be rescued.
And we’ll have our happily ever after. If only he’ll let me save him.
Save us.
A date. An actual date.
I haven’t been this nervous in my life. She says she doesn’t care where we go or what we do, but is that really true?
If I screw this up and pick the wrong restaurant, will that be it for us?
Do I even care?
I stare into my bathroom mirror, leaning into my hands against the sink.
Yeah, I do. I really care.
Jesus, when did I become such a pussy?
I agreed to this because there’s no way I could pass up this chance. She pretty much called the shots and said she would meet me today, literally the next day, after work.
I should have insisted on picking her up, right? Isn’t that what a chivalrous guy does? Picks the girl up?
I’m so fucking out of my element.
There’s a knock on my studio door, and I take a deep breath. But I’m still not ready when I answer the door and see Melody standing there.
She’s perfect.
She’s not dressed up like I expected, like I prepared for, and I look like a fucking jackass in dress slacks and button-down shirt while she’s in jean shorts and a plain pink, cropped tee. Her long hair is up in a ponytail. And she’s wearing some makeup but it’s light, and her lips have some sort of shiny lip-gloss on them.
She looks me up and down and smiles, making me paranoid.
“Was this all a joke?” It would be a good one, although childish and beneath her to ask me out on a date, then laugh in my face when I take it seriously and she doesn’t.
“Of course not.” It’s not? She smiles, and her thumb swipes over my chin as her hand brushes over my cheek. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I don’t care where we go on this date.” She shrugs, crossing her ankles in a nervous gesture, and I see she’s sporting tennis shoes. I didn’t know she owned anything other than heels. “I thought we could go for a walk.”
“A walk?” My right eyebrow lifts. For the life of me, I cannot figure this chick out.
She nods and then looks at what I’m wearing, “Do you want to change?” She clings to the collar of my button-down. “I mean you look damn good, but I want you to be comfortable.”
I don’t think that’s possible.
I nod and walk to where the clothes I wore earlier today are neatly folded on the couch.
“I can wait outside.” She’s smiling, her teeth nibbling playfully on her bottom lip.
I roll my eyes, smiling at her antics, kick off my dress shoes and unbutton my shirt, shrugging it off. “I really don’t mind you looking.”
Her eyes drop to my abs, and I smile as I undo my slacks maybe a little slower than I would when I’m alone and relish her eyes sliding lower. There’s no shortage of sexual attraction between us, that’s for damn sure.
I push the slacks off and replace them with jeans, followed by a casual t-shirt before turning to her. “Better?”
Her smile is bright as she moves to stand before me, placing a finger on her chin and pursing her lips in exaggerated appraisal. “It’ll have to do.”
She is really something else. There was a definite connection all those years ago, and I’ve been intrigued with her since. I always wondered who she really was, of what could have been, but never in a million years did I think I’d have the opportunity to find out.
I take a seat on the sofa and change into tennis shoes before standing up and looking at Melody, seeing the complete opposite of every wealthy woman I’ve ever known. “A walk?”
“A walk.” She wraps her arm around mine, and we walk downstairs to the crowded sidewalk below.
“You’re going to have to help me out, Melody. I’ve never been on an actual date before, and I have no fucking clue what I’m doing.”
We walk along the sidewalk, and I watch people rushing around us, some from their cars into restaurants, some from businesses out to their cars after a long day. Melody seems confident and strong as we walk, her arm still connected with mine. “No problem, I’ve been on a few, and I can definitely tell you what not to do.”
“Okay, let me have it.” It’s warm out now, but the fresh air feels good.
“Well, don’t talk about your father’s money.”
I let out a short laugh. “Not a problem.”
She nods her head, her grin so fucking bright as she lets me in on the type of men she’s dated. “Good. Don’t spend the entire time talking about your private jet.”
Jesus Christ. “I don’t think that will be a problem either.”
She giggles, light and happy. Dare I say it’s really fucking fun just talking to her? Fun? I’m having a good time, and it’s not with Rhys, Quinn, or Logan.
“Oh lord, and do not spend the whole date talking about quantum mechanics and then acting like I’m a total idiot for not understanding a word you’re saying.”
I stop walking and turn to look at her. “What kind of assholes have you been dating?”
“All the wrong ones.” Her hand brushes over my bicep. “While I was waiting for right one to finally pull his head out of his ass.”
“I think I’m there.”
“Good.”
We walk around downtown KC for a good hour before stopping at a damn good barbecue restaurant I’ve been to lots of times but she never had. The conversation never stops. Not once. It’s not forced, and it isn’t difficult.
There’s no dead silence. We talk about what we’ve both done for the past six years, about Rhys’s struggle with addiction, about Logan and Quinn reconnecting and then moving away. And Rhys and Blair, there’s a lot to say about those two.
Neither of us can believe they hooked up. But we’ve also not heard a word about it since we got back.
We walk out of the restaurant hand-in-hand into the warm evening air of the city, amid the loud sounds of cars driving by, people walking everywhere, and music playing somewhere in the distance.
“Yeah well, hopefully that’s all over with.” Melody is still talking about Rhys and Blair, and I agree.
“I can’t imagine anything between them would ever work out.”
“I can’t say much about Rhys since I don’t know him, but I can’t picture them together.” Her shoulder shrugs. “And he’s still hung up on Quinn.”
“You picked up on that?”
She looks at me like I’m ridiculous. “Of course, I did. I’ve been around them. His eyes are always on Quinn.”
I hate what Rhys has endured. “They weren’t a good match.”
“Clearly. Quinn and Logan are like couple-goals, but I don’t want to see Blair hurt, and his obsession with Quinn is intense.”
I agree, but I’m uncomfortable talking about it. “Rhys has been through a lot.”
“I know.” Her look isn’t judgmental or cruel. “Believe it or not, so has Blair. But I think this is for the best. Maybe they both need to find someone . . .” I raise an eyebrow waiting for her to land on the word she is searching for. “Nice?”
I la
ugh. “Oh shit, I can’t picture Rhys with nice.”
She laughs at that too. “Oh wow. Yeah, you’re right. I can’t picture Blair with anyone nice either.” She giggles a little more. “Oh God, she would eat up a nice guy.”
“Yeah. For sure.”
She shrugs, and we continue to walk. “Maybe they are a perfect match.”
“A match made in hell.”
She playfully swats me and leans into me as we walk. “Watch it.”
I smile happily as we seem to venture closer to the live music because it’s getting louder and louder. “What happened with your mother?”
She stops and turns to look up at me, pain apparent on her face. I don’t want to push her, but it’s something I’ve wondered about all these years.
I keep my voice low. “I know you told me you don’t talk about her.”
“I don’t.”
“I get that.” My hand rests on the side of neck, holding her gaze.
“But you did tell me about your family.”
“I think if we’re going to have a shot, then we need to really get to know each other. And this has been a mystery to me.”
She gnaws on her bottom lip and takes a deep breath before letting it out. “When I was twelve, my father woke up to find a letter from her saying that she was leaving him. That was it, just a letter. Months later, she filed for divorce. They settled, and that was that. She didn’t want custody of me, she just wanted money.”
“Wow.” Guess a shitty mother can happen to anyone.
“Yeah, my father told me much later she never really wanted to be a mother. I know he was hurt, but she used his love for me to get leverage and have a bigger settlement in the divorce. He’s tried. He’s busy and struggled to find balance, but he’s a good father.”
“That’s something I’ve never known. I don’t know love, Melody.”
She smiles easily. “Yes, you do. You know love, Sean.” She leans into my touch. “You may have never had a good parent who loved you appropriately, but you have known love. The family you made with Rhys, Quinn, and Logan is absolutely beautiful.”
I never thought of that before. “How can you be so certain?”
She smiles again, and her lips brush over mine as she leans close to me. “I see you. I did then and do now. You’re a good man, and you have to let your anger go. It doesn’t suit you.”
I hate my father. I always will. I hate what he’s done to me and indirectly to Melody. But she’s right, I know she is. My father doesn’t give a flying fuck about me or my mother, but Melody does.
She’s all I ever needed, and I was too angry and blind to see it.
She’s offering me a second chance, and I’m taking it.
“This is me.” I look up to where Melody points at a loft apartment.
“You live here?”
She nods her head and grabs my hand, tugging me toward a set of stairs. “Yeah, my father wasn’t happy.”
I look around the neighborhood as we walk up a set of metal stairs. It’s not really rough, but it’s not at all what she came from. It’s just a loft in downtown Kansas City’s art district. “I bet.”
She laughs, taking her keys out and unlocking the door, but not opening it as she turns to me. “He would have preferred a townhome or something, but I like it here. It’s closer to work.” She lifts her head and looks directly into my eyes. “And you.”
My hand slides through the silky side of her ponytail as I hold onto her. “You might be completely insane.”
She laughs slightly. Her hand moving to the doorknob. “Oh, I’m crazy for sure.”
“Anyone else would have given up on me a long time ago.”
“I did.”
She opens the door. Both of our eyes turn to look inside, but neither of our bodies move.
“I’m glad fate brought you back to me.”
My face nears hers as her head rests against my hand. “Me too. Sometimes all people need to do is to shut up and listen to what the universe is saying. I knew there was more to the story.”
Her hand rests on my shoulder as she leans in for a kiss, a kiss that brings back everything. Every time our lips touch, that spark is present.
That spark that was lit a long time ago and hasn’t faded.
My hands move to her ass as I pick her up, her legs wrapping around me with little effort as I walk us inside the apartment and she pushes the door closed.
All I want is her.
Her lips meld with mine, her arms around my neck, and I hear, “I expect you to be here tomorrow morning.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” I smile, knowing it’s a promise I can and will keep.
Our clothes fly off like the nuisances they are as we make our way to her perfectly made bed that we’re about to tear apart. “You are so fucking perfect.”
I lay her down on the bed, worshiping every inch of her as she shakes her head. “No. You’re the perfect one. You’re everything I ever wanted.”
I climb onto the bed, hovering over her, staring down at her perky breasts with rose pink, pebbled nipples that make my mouth water. “I can barely hear you. I’m struck deaf and dumb at all this beauty.”
Her eyes roll as her hand reaches the back of my head, and she pulls me into a kiss. “I know everything I need to know. I love you, Sean.”
My heart thuds in my chest as I use my arms to brace myself over her, both of us completely naked and vulnerable as I stare into her eyes. “I love you too.” I’ve never said those words before, but I mean them wholeheartedly.
I expect her to beg me not to hurt her, to be here tomorrow. But she doesn’t. Her lips engage me, taking over, and it’s as if she fully trusts me.
She really has always seen me. Before I even knew who I was, she did.
Okay, food in the oven—check. Table set—check. Sexy lingerie.
I look down at the lacy, beige, low-cut halter teddy I’m wearing.
Check. Thank God I turned up the heat when I got here or I’d be freaking freezing.
We’ve been dating for six months. He gave me the key to his house a few months ago, and I’m happy because I can surprise him like this.
I hear a car and dim the lights as I unlock the door, leaving it slightly ajar so I don’t scare the hell out of him. I’ve done this a few times, and the first time didn’t go as planned at first. I pose in my sexiest position in front of the door with one hand up and tangled in my long blond hair.
“Oh fuck.” No . . . That’s so not Sean’s voice.
I jump, completely startled, and stare at Rhys, not Sean.
Oh shit. Shit. Shit!
I scramble to the couch and grab a throw blanket, wrapping it around my shoulders, so completely glad I dimmed the lights. Maybe he didn’t see anything.
“Holy shit, Melody. Is this how you greet all of Sean’s guests?”
Oh my God. I might actually die from embarrassment. I think that’s a thing. It can happen, and I think I might.
He’s looking at me like I’m a total freak.
“Um . . . I was trying to surprise Sean.” I barely choke out the words as my cheeks flame hot red.
“Yeah, I got that.”
“It’s his birthday.”
He gives a curt nod. “Yeah. I know.” He grasps the back of his neck. “So, he’s not here?”
“Not yet. He should be soon.”
He turns toward the door. “Okay, just let him know I stopped by.”
He starts to leave, but I stop him. “Rhys?”
He turns slightly, looking like he wants to dart out the door. But to his credit, he stays. “Yes?”
“I’d really love it if we could be friends someday.” He looks horrified, and I try not to laugh or be offended by his horror. “I love Sean. And you love Sean. It’s only fitting that we at least be friends.”
Over the past six months, we’ve been around each other a little, but not often. And when we are, Rhys is always quiet.
“Uh.”
“Just th
ink about it.” I hold the blanket closed as tightly as I can and walk to him. “Rhys, Sean is really protective of your story. He hasn’t told me many details, but I think there’s more to you than what you let people see.”
He stands there, unmoving except for his jaw that’s ticking with anger or anxiety, I’m not sure which. He clears his throat and gives me a quick nod. “Okay. Maybe.”
I smile at that, happy he’s at least thinking about it. “Okay, just tell Sean I stopped by.”
“Not a problem.”
He offers me a small grin, and I notice his right cheek has a dimple when he smiles. “And thanks for making his birthday a good one. He deserves it.”
I smile at him, feeling an odd sense of pride. “I agree.”
He nods his head again and exits as I flop down on the couch, feeling so many emotions ranging from embarrassment to complete happiness.
Ten minutes later, I’m flipping through channels on the television, just me in my teddy, when the door opens and Sean walks into a much less-planned scene. But it doesn’t matter.
I stand up and greet him happily, my arms wrap around his neck as I kiss his lips, feeling so whole and so at home. “Happy birthday!”
His arms wrap around my waist as he looks down at what I’m wearing. “Fuck yes.”
I laugh. “Also, before I forget, Rhys stopped by.”
Now, Sean’s eyebrow lifts as he looks at what I’m wearing, but he’s also grinning. “Rhys was here? When you were wearing this?”
“Yes.”
“What?” He’s laughing. Actually laughing.
“It was humiliating. I thought he was you at first, and I’m pretty sure he’s traumatized.”
Sean runs a finger over my bare arm, and I shiver from the touch, already craving more. “Pretty damn sure that’s not what he was.”
His lips slide along my jaw, and my head drops back, letting his mouth slide over my neck. “It’s Rhys. Trust me.”
He chuckles and his lips meet mine again. “I fucking love you, Melody.”
“Then marry me.” The words just come out, but it’s not as spontaneous as it seems. I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I know what I want.