Stone Princess

by Devney Perry

  This distance between us wasn’t working anymore. I couldn’t sit here and watch her try to hold herself together. I slid closer, taking her arms and unwrapping them from her legs. Then I hooked her knees over my lap so I could lean in close. “Don’t blame yourself for this. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were eighteen and scared too. None of this is on you.”

  She looked into my eyes, those beautiful crystal-blue pools flooding with tears. “I abandoned her.”

  “You saved your own life.”

  “The guilt”—she swallowed hard—“is crushing me.”

  “Let it go, baby,” I whispered. “Stop holding it so close.”

  She collapsed into my chest and the dam broke.

  I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, pulling her into my lap as she fell apart in my arms. Her shoulders convulsed and tears soaked my shirt.

  “Let it go,” I whispered into her hair. “I’ve got you.”

  She buried her face in my neck, then cried and cried until there were no tears left. I expected her to sit ramrod straight and pull away. I was ready for the wall she’d slam up between us.

  But she stayed.

  She held on to me as I held on to her. The barriers, the obstacles, vanished.

  Trust. Honesty. Faith.

  They cloaked us and sent a surge of hope through my veins.

  We were going to make it. I was going to win her back. The crippling pressure in my chest ebbed along with the fear that had settled deep when I’d thought I’d lost her.

  The fight wasn’t won. Yet. But I’d walk away the victor. I’d win Presley Marks.

  She was my anchor.

  She was my heart.

  “Sorry,” she said as she sucked in a deep breath and leaned back. She wiped at her cheeks, sniffling. “I didn’t mean to unload on you.”

  “I’m glad you did. You good?” I cupped her cheek, using my thumb to dry one last tear.

  She met my gaze, giving me the weight of her face in my palm. “Yes. For now.”

  “When yes becomes a no, you come find me. Okay?” I trailed my fingertips along her jaw.

  Presley’s breath hitched and her eyes flared as I leaned in closer. Our noses nearly touched.

  This was closer than we’d been in months. The heat from her skin, the warmth of her touch, her scent—“I fucking missed you, Pres.”

  She leaned in, her lips almost dropping to mine, then she was gone. She shot off my lap, shaking her head and clamping a hand over her mouth.

  Damn.

  She dropped her hand. “I’m with Luke.”

  “So you keep saying.” Except I hadn’t seen him since the night he’d dropped her off. “Where’s he been?”

  She maneuvered around the coffee table, putting the piece of furniture between us. “He knows Scarlett is here, and he’s giving me some time alone with her.”

  Wrong move, Rosen. Luke hadn’t been here to catch her tears. He hadn’t been here when she’d been ready to unload the past. And I had a feeling, if it had been Luke in my seat, Presley wouldn’t have told him anyway.

  She’d trusted me with that gift. Me.

  I was winning this goddamn fight.

  I stood from the couch and walked to the chair where I’d draped my jacket when I’d come inside. “Luke’s a nice guy, but he’s not the right guy.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Yeah, I do.” The right guy was standing in her living room. “End it.”

  “No.”

  “Call it off.”

  “No.” She huffed. “No. No. No.”

  My voice dropped, smooth and gentle. “End it, Pres. Please.”

  “N-no,” she stuttered, maybe because each time she said no, the corner of my mouth turned up. “You should go.”

  I shrugged on my jacket. “If you need anything, I’m right next door. No strings. I’ll be here.”

  She nodded, her arms crossed over her chest as she followed me to the door, keeping a safe distance. “Bye.”

  Forget the door. I spun on her, stepping into her space with one long stride. “Don’t say goodbye. I never want to hear it from you again.”

  “Shaw—”

  “Are you in love with him?”

  “It’s only been a month.”

  “Give me a month.”

  She huffed. “You had yours already.”

  “And I fucked it up. Give me another chance. Please.” If we’d reached the begging stage, I’d drop to my knees this second.

  “Why?”

  Time to lay it all out there. “Because I fell in love with you this summer.” I framed her face in my hands as she gasped. “Because you fell in love with me too. And because he’ll never kiss you like this.”

  Then I crushed my mouth to hers, hoping to erase every lick of Luke Rosen with every sweep of my tongue.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Presley

  I closed the door, locked it, then let shame wash over my body.

  Shaw had kissed me.

  And I’d kissed him back.

  I’d kissed a man while dating another.

  Shit. I was low. I wasn’t this woman. I didn’t string men along. Hell, before Jeremiah, there hadn’t been any men to string along.

  Before Jeremiah, there’d been boys in high school who’d sneak a kiss in an empty hallway. They’d been appealing only because they’d been forbidden. Those boys had been a way to give my father a rebellious fuck you.

  When I’d moved to Clifton Forge, I’d been too busy growing up to think of dating. Besides that, no one had asked. The eligible men in town saw me surrounded by Tin Gypsies and stayed far away.

  Then came Jeremiah. Then Shaw.

  My hand came to my swollen lips and I wiped them again. Shaw’s taste was still in my mouth, and his scent clung to the air.

  I’d let him sweep his tongue against mine and devour my lips until I’d realized exactly what I was doing, how I was betraying Luke. I’d pulled away and shoved him out the door.

  What was I doing? This wasn’t me.

  My stomach churned. Luke Rosen was a good man. He deserved better. He deserved a woman who wasn’t kissing other men.

  A woman whose heart wasn’t torn.

  Kissing Shaw hadn’t felt wrong, not in the moment. Feeling his lips on mine was like coming home after a long day. It was like finding the sanctuary, the solace I’d been missing for months. The boat of my life stopped rocking. The waters of my soul calmed.

  My foolish, reckless heart was his.

  There was no Luke and me. Me and Luke.

  When I looked into the future, I saw a man with dark blond hair and a smile that millions of women coveted but was only for me.

  Poor Luke had never stood a chance. Even if Shaw hadn’t returned to Clifton Forge, eventually I would have cut Luke loose. I simply wasn’t . . . available.

  But Shaw had returned. Things would be entirely different this time around. I couldn’t hide him from the people in my life. The world would know that Shaw Valance was sleeping in my bed.

  “Ugh.” I dropped my forehead to the door.

  Was I doing this? Shaw had the power to destroy me. If he left me behind again, I’d be shattered beyond repair.

  Or . . .

  He’d hold my heart and treat it with tender care.

  He’d love me.

  But before I could think about Shaw, about taking that risk, I had to end it with Luke.

  I pushed away from the door and walked into the living room, grabbing my phone.

  “Hey,” Luke answered. “I was just thinking about you.”

  Oh, his voice. Not as smooth as Shaw’s but it was still sexy. I sank down to the edge of my chair, my shoulders slumping. “Are you still coming over later?”

  “I’d like to see you. But if you need more time with your sister, I understand.”

  I looked down the hallway to the door that was still closed. “No, I’d like to see you too.”

  “Yeah?” Luke sounded so hopeful. I bet he wa
s smiling.

  This was going to suck. “Yeah.”

  “Give me an hour.”

  “Okay.” An hour would have to be enough time to figure out what to say.

  I hung up and tossed the phone aside, pinching the bridge of my nose.

  My emotions were all over the place. I hadn’t planned on unloading my childhood on Shaw, but with Scarlett here, the floodgates had opened and the horror I hadn’t wanted to relive for years had come rushing out.

  I hadn’t even hesitated. Confiding in Shaw was so natural. So easy. Why was that? I’d kept my past locked up tight. The only person who’d been able to finagle it out of me had been Draven, and even then, there were things I hadn’t told him.

  I hadn’t told him about the red nail polish incident because Draven would have jumped on his bike, ridden to Chicago and slit my father’s throat. It had been hard enough admitting my father had beaten me. I’d cried. Draven had cussed. And when the lid on his temper had blown, I’d clutched his arm and made him promise not to retaliate.

  I’d assumed Scarlett was still there and I hadn’t wanted to make things worse. And I hadn’t wanted my past mixing with my present. The Presley with long hair and a dutiful smile was dead. The Presley who lived by her own design had been thriving.

  I didn’t want my parents tainting the beauty I’d made for myself.

  Shaw had been as angry as Draven. Shaw’s fury had pulsed off him in waves, but much like Draven, he’d locked it down. He’d listened and when I’d broken, he’d held me like I was precious.

  If I hadn’t already fallen for Shaw, today would have been the tipping point.

  He’d told me he loved me. He’d been so sure I loved him too.

  Was I in love? Being around Shaw was comforting. It was exhilarating. But there was something else—a feeling I couldn’t name.

  Those were worries for another time because I had a guest coming over. I stood up and straightened the living room. I lit a candle on the coffee table because I didn’t want Luke to walk in and smell Shaw’s cologne.

  Then I waited. My stomach knotted and I couldn’t seem to take a deep breath. My palms were sweating by the time Luke arrived, true to his word, exactly an hour after our phone conversation.

  “Hey.” He smiled and kissed me on the cheek when I greeted him at the door.

  “Hi.” I took his jacket and hung it in the small coat closet. “Come on in.”

  Luke followed me into the living room and looked around. “Nice place.”

  “Thanks.” And thank God that elderly woman had crashed into the gym.

  It wouldn’t have been right, sleeping with Luke. No matter how many times I’d mentally paired us together, there was a gap.

  That gap’s name was Shaw Valance.

  “Would you like something to drink?” I asked.

  “Nah, I’m good.” He walked into the living room and took a seat on the love seat. He sat right in the middle, leaving no room for me to sit beside him, then leaned his elbows on his knees. “How is your sister?”

  “Fine.” I took the chair across from the love seat. “She’s sleeping at the moment.”

  “Anything I can do?”

  “No.” I gave him a small smile, then mustered my courage to break this off. “So, um—”

  He held up a hand. “Presley, it’s okay. I know why I’m here.”

  “You do?”

  “Shaw Valance is back.”

  “How did you know? Did he call you?” Because that was going to piss me off. Shaw had no right to interfere.

  Luke shook his head. “There’s not a lot that happens here that the chief of police doesn’t know about. Especially when a famous actor moves next door to my girlfriend’s house.”

  Girlfriend. He thought of me as his girlfriend.

  Oh, hell. This was not getting easier, but I took a deep breath and gave Luke the only thing I had left—honesty. “We were together when he lived here before. It ended when he left.”

  “But now he’s back,” Luke said. “I get it. If I had to choose me over Shaw, I might not choose me either. He’s surprisingly difficult to dislike.”

  Ugh. He was being so nice about this. Couldn’t he get mad, call me horrible names and storm out the door? “I’m so sorry, Luke.”

  He hung his head for a moment, then lifted it to give me a sad smile. “So am I.”

  Silence settled over the room, aside from the candlewick crackling on the table between us.

  Luke stood. “Take care, Presley.”

  “You too.” I followed him to the front door and retrieved his coat.

  He shrugged it on, then bent to brush another kiss on my cheek. There were no tingles. There were no sparks or butterflies.

  I’d been searching for something with Luke that had never been there.

  “Give me a few weeks, then tell Shaw he owes me a beer for stealing my girl.”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  Luke opened the door and walked outside, lifting his hand to wave before he jogged down the steps. I stood in the cold, watching as he got into his truck and reversed into the street. Then I closed the door, turned and gasped.

  Scarlett was standing in the hall.

  “He’s cute.”

  My hand flew to my racing heart. “You scared me.”

  “Sorry.” She shrugged and walked into the living room, curling up on the couch. Her eyes drooped and she yawned, shoving a lock of her stringy hair from her face. “What day is it?”

  “Tuesday,” I said, sitting beside her.

  “Huh. Guess I was tired.”

  We stared at each other wordlessly.

  Looking at her used to be like looking in the mirror. We’d had the same hair, the same clothes. Did I seem as foreign to her as she did to me? Maybe after a shower, she wouldn’t look so much like a ghost.

  “Do you want a shower?” I asked.

  Scarlett dropped her gaze to her hands. “Sure. Can I borrow some clothes?”

  “I’ll put some on your bed. There are towels and an extra toothbrush in your bathroom.”

  “Thanks.” Her fingers toyed on her lap, picking at something black, probably mascara, caked beneath a nail. Then her hands stilled, and she looked up. “Did you love him?”

  “Luke? No. We only dated for a month.”

  “No, not Luke.” She gave me a flat look. “Jeremiah. Did you love him?”

  “Oh.” My cheeks flamed.

  Why couldn’t we have talked about anything else first? Like why she was here. Or how she’d left Chicago. Or what she’d been doing with her life. Why did we have to jump right into the Jeremiah subject?

  “Yes,” I admitted. “At least, I thought I loved him at the time.”

  “And now?”

  “Maybe I don’t know what love is.”

  “I do.” Scarlett shifted her gaze to the burning candle. “Because Jeremiah taught me.”

  And there, in her soft voice, was her broken heart.

  I’d betrayed my twin sister. “I’m sorry.”

  For Jeremiah.

  For leaving her.

  For the years that had gone.

  “Whatever.” Scarlett stared at the candle without blinking. Without speaking. She was quiet for so long that I gave up and turned to the candle too.

  We’d been so close once. If there was love in my past, it was entwined with memories of Scarlett.

  Had I ruined us the night I’d left? Was there any hope I’d get my sister back? Or would she hold Jeremiah against me forever?

  “I missed you,” I whispered, not brave enough to look away from the candle.

  Scarlett stood from the couch and exited the room. But before she disappeared into the bathroom, she paused at the mouth of the hall. “I missed you too.”

  I held my smile until I heard the shower turn on, then hope bloomed.

  This reunion wasn’t what I’d planned. A reunion wasn’t something I’d ever planned.

  At eighteen, I’d had illusions of the two of us laughin
g and singing to the radio as we drove away from Chicago. I’d pictured us living our lives separately, but connected—mine in Montana, hers in California. We’d call each other often. We’d vacation on the beach and spend Christmases together.

  None of that had come true.

  But maybe it would, a decade later.

  I went to my bedroom and took out a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt for Scarlett. I also grabbed a fresh pair of panties and a sports bra. I set them on her bed, glancing around the guest bedroom at the bag she’d brought with her.

  It was a black backpack, sagging in a corner like it was mostly empty. Where had she been? Where was she living? She’d arrived in a cab. Had she flown here from somewhere? Or taken a bus? Or hitchhiked?

  Now that she was awake, we could talk. I went to the kitchen and made dinner. It wasn’t anything fancy, but I was hungry and from the looks of it, Scarlett hadn’t eaten much lately. I went for simple grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup.

  When she emerged from her bedroom, our meal was waiting at my round dining table beside the kitchen.

  “What would you like to drink?” I asked.

  “Water is fine.” She slid into a seat, her hair wet and hanging down her back. My clothes were not fitted, but they were baggier on her than they’d ever been on me.

  “You can start without me.” I filled up two glasses of water in the kitchen, and when I returned to the table, half her sandwich was gone. I sat down, trying not to stare as she inhaled the rest of her food.

  “Thanks for dinner.” She gulped from the water glass. “I was starving.”

  “You slept for two days.”

  “I was tired.” Scarlett yawned and stood. “I’m going to go back to bed.”

  “Oh.” So much for talking. “I have to get back to work tomorrow. Are you staying or . . .”

  “If that’s okay.”

  “Yes, of course. Stay as long as you’d like.”

  She picked up her dishes and took them to the kitchen.

  I abandoned my meal to follow. “Do you need more clothes? Or anything? I can swing by the grocery store on the way home from work. Maybe we could talk tomorrow night.”

  “Tomorrow.”

  I smiled. “Get some rest.”

  “Night.”