You Loved Me Once

by Corinne Michaels

  It’s what keeps those who come through the doors returning over and over again.

  “So, what’s new with my girls?” Rich asks.

  “Ren started her clinical trial,” Jules says.

  “You did?” The pride in his eyes is humbling. He’s almost like a second father to me.

  I nod. “Yeah, Monday it really starts, but all the preliminary stuff is done,” I explain.

  “Well,” he grins. “I’ll be damned. I knew you two were going to change the world the first time I saw you both.”

  He’s so full of shit. We were two doe-eyed med students the first time we stumbled in here. I had moved back here to help with my mother, lost Bryce, and was trying desperately to pretend I was okay. I was drinking more than I should have, and sleeping with as many guys as I could to feel anything but my longing for Bryce.

  “He lies.” Julie rolls her eyes.

  “I do not.” Rich puts his hands on his hips. “I knew you two were going to do great things. Just took you both a little while to realize it.”

  “I’m glad someone knew we were special,” I giggle.

  “You’re special, all right,” Rich says with sarcasm. “What are you troublemakers drinking tonight?”

  Julie and I look at each other and answer. “Vodka.”

  After a few martinis, I’m pretty damn numb. I don’t care so much about all the shit in my life. Julie rests her head on the bar and spins her glass.

  “Rem-member when we drank lots of these?” she stammers.

  I laugh as my head drops back, causing hair to sway. It feels funny. “I ’member.”

  My phone dings with a text.

  “Ugh,” I groan. “Westin again.”

  Westin: I don’t know where you are, but you said you’d be home by five. It’s late and I’m worried that you’re not okay.

  Me: I’m fine. Just hanging with Jules.

  Westin: Okay then.

  “What does he want?” Julie asks.

  “More.”

  “More is less,” she giggles. “More is never happening with you.”

  “More sucks,” I respond. “You know why you don’t give more? Because you give more and then they want more of more,” I ramble. “I’m tired of it. I won’t give nothing anymore.”

  Julie lifts her head, slaps the wood, and straightens her back. “Yes. Give nothing because men don’t give us enough.”

  “Yes!” I agree.

  “I think you’re an idiot, though,” she shrugs.

  Why am I an idiot? I’m the one who started this revolution of how stupid giving more is.

  “What the hell?” I ask feeling miffed.

  Julie raises her glass toward Rich, indicating we need more. “Because Westin is more than any of us will ever get.”

  “Westin is not perfect.”

  He has flaws and people need to understand that. I’m so tired of hearing how great he is because sometimes, he’s not. When he loses a patient, he’s a dick. When he can’t figure out a way to fix something, he’s awful. When he doesn’t get his way, he’s a big-ass baby.

  He’s a man.

  I know he’s great in so many ways, but he’s also a showman. The good impression he makes is carefully orchestrated. Westin wants to be the Chief of Surgery. He’s playing a game and we’re all the pawns. Anyone that doesn’t see that is blind.

  “I never said he was,” she clarifies.

  Didn’t she? “Why do you keep bringing this up? It’s the second time in a few days.”

  Julie shifts to face me. “Don’t tell me you don’t hear the rumors about the women wanting to take your place, Ren. He may not be perfect, but he’s pretty damn close.”

  “You don’t know everything. He’s got ambitions and if you think he won’t step on all of us to get there, you’re crazy.”

  She sways in her seat a little and puts her head back down. “Like either of us wouldn’t if we had the chance?”

  “I’d like to think I wouldn’t step on my friends to get to the top,” I say, because I want to earn the title of chief, not politic my way to that seat. Which will probably be why I never get it.

  Julie laughs once. “You would and neither would Wes. He may have aspirations and goals, but he’s not an asshole. He wants to get it the same way that we do.”

  Wes isn’t that way. He’s kind and she’s right. He wouldn’t purposely destroy anyone to reach his goals. “True. So that leaves you. And we all know that you couldn’t hurt anyone,” I reply. “You’re too damn nice.”

  “This is true,” she sighs. “I’m happy in my lab, and you’re happy with people.”

  She’s right again. I want to be the person on the front lines of medicine. Being chief is a lot of paperwork, politics, and pissing people off. I’ll stick to the patients, where I can make a real difference.

  “I have to pee,” Julie giggles as she hops off her barstool. “Don’t do anything stupid!”

  “Okay,” I say as my head lolls to the side. “I’ll be right here.”

  I never drink like this, but it feels good to relax for once. I feel like the last fifteen years of my life, I’ve had a great big stick up my ass. It was college, mom being sick, med school, internship, residency, and now it’s just constant death. Not to mention my father isn’t going to be around forever and my wayward brother can’t do shit.

  I’m tired. I’m tired of always doing the right thing.

  I’m tired of always being a damn adult.

  When do I get to have fun? Never, that’s when. My friends enjoyed the first four years of college, but I wasn’t at bars or frat parties, I was studying or with Bryce. It was my choice, I know this, but I thought I had more time.

  When Mom got sick, everything changed. My entire life became about cancer. I need a little fun once in a while.

  “This seat taken?” A deep voice I’d know even in a crowd of screaming people asks from beside me.

  Our eyes meet and there’s an ache in my heart as I take him in. He looks tired and desperate, and yet on the outside, you only see perfection. Bryce Peyton was trained to never show emotion, but I can see it. There were always fissures in his stone-cold façade that I was able to pick up on. There’s pain and fear in those gorgeous eyes, things he thinks he’s hiding, but I see his wife’s sickness is weighing him down.

  Wife.

  Remember that, Serenity. It’s not because of me or being around me. It’s because his wife is sick.

  “I’m waiting for my friend,” I explain and turn back to my drink.

  “Not what I asked,” Bryce says as he sits without my answer.

  “Well, the seat is taken, but I’m sure you’ll sit anyway. Not like you care about what makes me happy.” I mumble the last part and then drain the rest of my martini.

  It’s clear that he’s not going to respect my request for him to stay away from me.

  “I’ll move when your boyfriend gets back,” he tosses out and then orders his drink.

  A whiskey neat.

  Some things never change.

  “I never said Westin was here.”

  “He has a name.” Bryce smiles and I glare at him.

  “Yes, he has a name. Why do you care?”

  Bryce shifts so we’re close enough that I can smell the mint on his breath. “I don’t. I’m married. Remember?”

  I roll my eyes and lean back. “Yes, you are. I remember.”

  The two of us continue to stare at each other and I work hard to read him. I’m not sure why he’s here or why he felt the need to talk to me, but Bryce is fighting his own demons.

  “So, we meet again—in a bar.” Bryce clears his throat, breaking the eye contact, and I fight back the desire to trudge down memory lane. We’re not those people anymore.

  I lift my glass, letting Rich know I need another. At this rate, he could bring me the bottle of Tito’s and I’d be happy. Who needs olives after the fourth—or was it fifth?

  “Shouldn’t you be with your wife?”

  �
�She’s sleeping and I needed to work,” he explains.

  “Work? In the bar?” I question.

  Bryce rolls the drink around his glass before bringing it to his lips. I’m just drunk enough to allow myself a momentary lapse in judgment as I think about what he once tasted like. The memory of a mix of whiskey, mint, and just . . . him, sends my pulse into overdrive. I remember how he’d kiss me with his entire body. It wasn’t just his mouth. I could feel all the energy he carried flow through the two of us, causing an overwhelming surge of emotions.

  He kissed me with tenderness and power that battled for dominance.

  I remember feeling drunk afterwards even though I hadn’t had a drink.

  “Does it matter? I needed a drink, and here I am.”

  Lucky me. “Yeah, here you are.”

  Where the fuck is Julie? I really need her to get back here.

  “So, you and the doctor?”

  My eyes narrow and I try to piece together why he’s asking. This is the second comment now about Westin and I can’t help but wonder if it’s bothering him. It shouldn’t, considering he’s the one that actually moved on. Of course, he doesn’t know anything about my life and I’m not about to admit how pathetic I am.

  “Westin and I have been together for a few years,” I admit.

  “I don’t see a ring,” Bryce notes.

  “Unlike you, who found someone and got married. Although I’ll admit Allison seems great.”

  He takes another long sip before finally speaking. “She is. She’s been good to me, and,” his eyes meet mine, “she saved me after I went down a dark road.”

  My breath hitches as the passion in his gaze tells me so much more. We were always in tune with each other when we were together. Bryce could look at me and I’d know what he was saying. It was like we were two halves of a whole that came together without any gaps.

  “Because I left?”

  “Yeah, Ren. You left and shit went downhill for me.”

  “Don’t think it was so easy for me either,” I counter. I’m still recovering from it, and him being here has reversed what little progress I’ve made.

  He looks up at the television, sighs, and then his eyes close. “I didn’t sit down next to you to fight.”

  I don’t want to fight either. All I want is for things to go back to the way they were. I liked my life a few days ago. It wasn’t perfect, but I was . . . content. Westin and I were going to turn a corner and now I feel as though I ran into the wall—a wall named Bryce.

  I play with the stem of the martini glass. “Then why did you sit?”

  “I don’t know. I saw you and started to walk toward you. I swear it was like I couldn’t stop myself.”

  His admission stuns me. There’s a hint of defeat in his voice. Bryce is struggling just as much as I am.

  “Why were things so dark?” I ask.

  He pinches the bridge of his nose and then takes a long, slow slip of his whiskey. “You think I wanted you to leave? I was a wreck after you decided to go to Northwestern. We were stronger than that, Chick. We were supposed to go to school together, start our life, and you came back home and then it was like I didn’t matter anymore.”

  He mattered. He always mattered. Hell, at one point, he was all that mattered.

  Maybe we should talk about all of this that lingers between us? Closure is what we’re both lacking. If we could get it out there, we could finally put this thing to bed.

  “Oh my God. I met this guy right by the bath—” Julie’s voice breaks the intense moment. “Well, hello there.” She looks at Bryce.

  He drains the remnants of his whiskey and stands. “It was great to see you, Dr. Adams. I appreciate you lending me your seat, miss.”

  Looks like closure has to wait.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Peyton.” The formality sounds foreign coming from my lips. He’s Bryce. My Bryce. The one who I met in a run-down bar like this one what feels like a million years ago, but he’s not mine anymore.

  Chapter 12

  Knock, knock, knock.

  I really need an IV to cure this hangover. Vodka is not my friend today. No, today I hate vodka and all the promises it made about how much better I’d feel if I drank it. I do not feel better. Instead, I have a splitting headache and I’ve spent a few hours in front of the toilet.

  “Ren?”

  My head falls back. I groan when I realize who it is, and I rest my hand on the door. I don’t have the energy for today. I wanted to spend today in bed, hating my life and enjoying a little pity party I was going to attend.

  “Ren, I saw your car,” Westin’s voice says from the other side of the door.

  I twist the lock and unhook the chain, knowing I need to deal with this now. Westin deserves better from me.

  “Hey,” I croak, clear my throat, and try to smile.

  “Are you sick?” he asks with concern lacing his voice.

  I shake my head. “No, Julie and I went to Rich’s bar.”

  He smirks. “You blew me off for that?”

  “I didn’t blow you off, Wes. Or, I didn’t mean to. Either way, please know I’m being thoroughly punished for my sins.”

  “Since last night was a bust, I’m stealing you for the day,” he informs me. “Go get dressed, we’re going out.”

  I look at him with my brows raised. “I’m sorry, what?”

  He takes my hand, pulling me toward the bedroom. “Get ready, Ren. Don’t fight me, just listen for once.”

  I stop walking, cross my arms over my chest, and fight back a smile. “What are you up to, Westin Grant?”

  Our eyes are locked, and he moves close, his strong arm hooking around my back, and pulling me in so we’re flush against each other. “I’m doing what I should’ve done a long time ago,” he says, watching my reaction. “I’m not going to let you drive the car anymore, Serenity. I want more and I’m tired of waiting for you to be ready.”

  I gasp as the fire burns in his gaze. “What if I’m not ready now?”

  His lips turn into a sinful smile. “Then I guess I’ll have to make you ready.”

  If this were a week ago, I would’ve been thrilled at this take-charge kind of change in him. I might not have been on board right away, but I wouldn’t feel as though I was being pulled apart. Now, though, I’m at war with the girl I was and the woman I want to be. I think about what it was like to let a man run my world, and how that ended. My heart is irrational and it’s torn. I remember the way it was for me a long time ago with Bryce, and even though I can’t have it, I crave the closeness and love I felt.

  Westin must see the hesitation, because he doesn’t allow me the time to let it grow. Within a second, his lips fuse to mine. The force of the kiss knocks me off my feet and he slams my back into the wall. His body molds to mine and I’m completely lost to him.

  My tongue slides against his, feeling the dominance radiating from him. I moan into his mouth as his hands roam my body. Westin knows how to please me. He moves his fingers down to my core, pressing in exactly the right spot.

  I would much rather get undressed right now than go wherever he’s planning to take me.

  “Westin,” I groan. “Bed. Now.”

  He moves his lips to my neck, kissing his way back to my lips. “Not until we go on our date.”

  That’s not fair. I want Westin to do what Westin and I do best and then we can think about the date. I want to forget and he is the one thing that makes the chaos that riots inside of me calm.

  I pout and he chuckles. “Not fair.”

  “Neither are the games you’ve been playing.”

  “I’m not playing games. I’ve been honest from day one that I’m not a relationship girl. I like what we have. I started to think I wanted more, but now I don’t know anymore . . . what if we don’t work out? We would have to work together, see each other daily. I’m scared, Wes. I’m scared of letting you in and then messing up what we have.”

  I make myself stop talking, because I am a mess.
I’m frustrating, unsure, insecure, and all of that has become clear in the last few days. I have spent the last fourteen years hardening myself to being vulnerable to a man. My work, my family, and my focus have allowed me to survive that way. The fear of opening myself to being hurt again leaves me restless.

  He pushes back a little, and his nose flares but his voice stays even. “I know, but I’m asking for one date. One chance to see what it could be like if you let your guard down and open your eyes to what we have. Not this half in and half out shit you’ve been doing. We’re both mature adults. We can handle working together if it fails. We can be friends if this ends, but God, Ren, can you handle walking away?”

  Doubt plagues me and I wonder if I’ll regret this moment for the rest of my life. If I say yes, am I giving him hope that doesn’t exist? If I say no, am I willing to lose what I do have with him?

  Julie would punch me in the face if she was here.

  “No, I can’t, but don’t . . .”

  “Don’t say another word, just get dressed and meet me in the living room,” he kisses my lips and walks away.

  Damn it. I guess we’re going on our first real date.

  Westin takes me to the movies, which I haven’t done in—forever. I seriously think college was the last time I’ve gone to see a movie.

  “What are we seeing?” I ask as we get to the cashier.

  “You’ll have to wait.” Westin’s arm wraps around my shoulders and my hand rests on his chest. To anyone who walked by, we’d look like a couple, and for right now, we are. It feels . . . nice. There’s no baggage or pretending when I’m with him. I can laugh, be weird, and I don’t have to impress Westin. He’s been around long enough to know my quirks.

  He gets two tickets to a horror film and I’m slightly giddy.

  Westin buys popcorn, a huge soda, Reese’s Pieces, Starburst, and Whoppers.

  “Who is eating all of that?” I ask as he hands me the popcorn.