Whatever She's Got

by Lyla Grace

  When I look up, Chase, my best friend and the guy whose sister I fucked…repeatedly…last night, is heading straight for me. Considering how much he drank last night, he looks no worse for the wear. The smirk on his face tells me he either just got laid or is on his way to. Or, hell--this is Chase we are talking about. It could be both. Regardless, if he asks one question about last night…I am screwed. I suck at lying, and Chase can see through me every single time. I am definitely not ready to face him, but it seems the world is playing a cruel joke on me and not giving me the opportunity to prepare. I mean, if he does ask, what do I say? “Your sister is sexy as hell and impossible to resist?” While it’s true, I don’t think that’s what anyone wants to hear about their sister. The word “fuck” just keeps repeating in my head like a skipping CD.

  “Lando, Lando, Lando,” he says, shaking his head, a huge grin on his face.

  “What?” I ask, a little confused by his greeting.

  “What? Come on, Lucy, I think you have some splainin’ to do,” he says as he lowers his sunglasses and meets my eyes for the first time. His are filled with amusement.

  Mine are filled with confusion. I am officially lost. Just in case my facial expression doesn’t show it, I ask, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  He still has that stupid grin on his face when he starts talking. “Well, you see, pal, I got up this morning and thought what a great best friend I have, making sure I got home safe last night. Then I thought that I don’t thank you enough for all you do for me.” Guilt. More guilt than a 30-ton semi weighs on me. I know the guy can be an asshole, but he’s still a great friend. I don’t like that the tables are turned, that I am the jackass that screwed up…big. As I mentally berate myself, he continues, “I figured that for a change, I would be a nice guy and do something to thank you.” That damn smirk is making me nervous. He’s up to something--I know it, I just don’t know what. “Soooo…I went and got you a coffee, broke into your room, and what do I find? A woman in your bed.” And there it is. Fuck. “Oh, but no, not just any woman…my sister.”

  I exhale as my shoulders drop. He knows. He fucking knows. And here I stand without a damn clue as to how to explain this to him. Instead, I brace myself for the punch that I am certain is coming.

  As I rack my brain for any explanation or excuse I can conjure up, Chase breaks into a full-blown laugh.

  “Chase, I can explain…”

  “Please don’t. I do not want any details of that.”

  “I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

  “Oh, come on, man, don’t give me that shit. You have had a hard-on for her since the first time I introduced the two of you. I’m not stupid; I see the way you look at her.” For the first time since he started his little game here, he looks me in the eye. And whatever he sees, it changes his demeanor. He’s no longer teasing me; he’s consoling me, making it okay for me. “Come on, Lando, wipe that damn puppy dog look off your face. You are totally ruining this for me.” And I am sure I was. Apparently, he doesn’t expect me to feel bad for my transgression. Apparently, my feelings for Livie are a little more transparent than I realized. “It’s not often that you’re the one that does stupid shit and I get to call you out on it.”

  He is right, though; it was stupid to act on my feelings. This is the kind of shit Chase would pull, not me. Apparently, I’m the guy that wears his heart on his sleeve, because now Chase is looking at me with pity. “I didn’t mean it like that. Look, I get it. I’m happy for you, really. Just--” He pauses, trying to find the right words. “Be careful. I don’t want to see you get hurt, and Ollie…well, Ollie is probably the one person that could do it.”

  I can feel her before I even lay eyes on her. It’s like my cock can sense she is near and stands at attention to salute her. “What could Ollie do?” she asks, hands on her hips, stern look on her face.

  “Get Lando here to quit being so damn uptight. I’m sure you loosened him up real good last night.” His laugh is almost irritating at this point. He is enjoying my misery a little too much, though it seems that he is giving me a pass on it. He glances down at his watch. “Gotta run--you two kids have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” A quick wink, and he heads off toward the beach leaving Livie and me alone.

  “Is that really what he said?” she asks incredulously.

  “What? Yeah. He’s just giving me a hard time. Not that I don’t deserve it.”

  “You don’t.” I am not so sure about that, despite Chase’s nonchalant attitude. She moves closer to me, making my body fully aware of her presence. “We didn’t do anything wrong. But we do need to talk.” Great, here we go. First Chase finds out, now Livie is going to end this…whatever this is.

  “It’s okay, Livie. I get it. We had a great night together--”

  She presses her finger to my lips. “Yes, we did. But that’s not what I was going to say. Landon, we need to talk because…I’m starving and I hear they have a great breakfast buffet, but it ends in thirty minutes. We have to hurry.” She takes my hand, tugging on it to follow her. When we reach the buffet entrance, I pull her into me my hands falling to her waist. Our eyes meet, searching, wanting….

  “Landon,” she whispers.

  “Table for two?” the lady behind the lectern asks, interrupting our moment. It was a moment, a moment of weakness on Livie’s part, allowing me into her heart just a little bit. While she would never admit that, her quick recoil and deflection onto her desire for breakfast rather than for me spoke volumes. I am at least grateful that I was affecting her. I still may end up on the losing end here, no touchdown in sight, but at least I am getting to her. I still have a chance.

  Chapter 4

  Livie

  I toy with the fringe on the throw pillow. “So the next morning, I wake up. Landon’s gone, but there is a single rose on the pillow next to me, with a note,” I tell Becca. I hand her the paper that I have held on to since the moment I read it. “‘Livie: You are an amazing woman. Don’t ever let anyone treat you otherwise. I am so grateful for this week with you…we’ll always have Mexico. ~ Landon.’”

  “And you’re mad because…?” Becca asks.

  “I’m not mad. It’s just….”

  “It’s just that you didn’t want him to leave.” If she wasn’t my best friend, I would tell her she was a bitch and didn’t know what she was talking about. But Becca Reeves is not a bitch…she’s right. And I hate her for that. “Come on, Liv. You can talk your stupid ‘I’m not worthy, and besides, I don’t do relationships’ game, but this guy got to you. Like really, really got to you.”

  “That’s irrelevant. What’s done is done. It was an amazing week. And yes, he is an amazing guy. But that’s where it ends. This isn’t some romance novel, Bec, it’s my life. And we both know that I don’t deserve a guy like Landon.”

  Quite frankly, I don’t know how or why she does it. She listens to my ridiculous drama and still stands by me, giving me advice and support. Now here she is doing it again, trying to be my cheerleader, all the while still putting me in my place. After all these years, she is damn good at it; I am just flat-out lousy at listening to her…or rather, learning from her. Shit--I am a complete and utter hot mess. Even if I were willing to give it a shot, Landon deserves better than me. He deserves someone who doesn’t have the baggage I do. He deserves someone who isn’t a disaster, who doesn’t screw everything up, who just doesn’t measure up. I mean, if I couldn’t even manage to make a guy like Will happy, there is no hope of me ever being enough to satisfy Landon.

  “You like him, Livie. And that’s a good thing; it’s a great thing. When are you going to realize that your sorry excuse for a mother is wrong about you? That she is so damn insecure and miserable in her own life that she takes it out on you, degrades you because you are everything she always wanted to be? I know she is your mother--but fuck, Liv, she is a raging bitch who doesn’t deserve to have you as a daughter.” This isn’t the first time Becca has gone on a tirade about
my mother. It is, however, the first time that she ever called her a bitch. If Becca knew the truth, she would really kick my ass for putting up this long with how she treats me.

  Sharon Matthews is not my mother. She couldn’t be further from it. It’s the reason she hates me so much. It’s also the reason she raised me to believe I was nothing more than trash, the result of an unloving, illicit affair between my father and mother. I was just an unfortunate byproduct of my father’s deception that she got stuck with when my mother died giving birth to me. Despite my best efforts to please her growing up, I always came up short. She continuously reminded me that I wasn’t really one of them, not really a part of the Matthews family. My father traveled a lot and was rarely home. Had it not been for Chase, I don’t know if I could have survived growing up in that house. He was my one saving grace, the only one who really loved and accepted me.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” Becca apologizes, mistaking my silence for anger.

  “Don’t,” I say as I place my hand on her arm. “You’re right, on all counts. Can we just drop it, though? What’s done is done. I don’t want to look back; I just want to look forward. Okay?”

  As much as she hates it, she agrees. She tosses me a bag of Swedish Fish before opening her own. “Well, can you at least give me a little more detail about the sex then? I mean, if the guy is half as good as he looks like he would be….”

  “He’s better.” I pop a fish in my mouth as I fall back on the couch. “So, so much better.”

  Chapter 5

  Livie

  Two months…eight weeks…fifty-six days. No matter how you say it, it is a long time to have gone without seeing a man who totally turned your world upside down. I have spent more time than I care to admit almost calling or texting him. But I never did, because it wouldn’t be fair to him, or to me. Whatever we have, this unexplainable sexual attraction, is just that--nothing more. And I would hate to give him the impression that it could ever be anything more. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt Landon, which luckily makes the sacrifice of never touching him or kissing him again in my life a little bit easier.

  Then in an instant he manages to turn my world upside down yet again. I walk into the restaurant with Michael behind me, and I stop dead in my tracks.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  I tell him that I am, but I’m not. Because less that twenty feet from me sits Landon Sutton in all his glory. He’s at a high-top table near the bar, with some of the other guys I recognize from the team. Chase isn’t with them, which I can only assume means he found another source of entertainment. There are a million restaurants in this city. How is it possible that we would even end up in the same one after all this time?

  Maybe it’s a sign. Maybe fate is pulling us together? Or maybe the universe is pulling some evil joke on me--throwing the one man in the world I can’t have right in my face. And today, of all days. I spent the better part of my day thinking about him. It’s not an uncommon occurrence, but today was worse than usual. I almost laugh out loud at how often I pulled up his name on my phone, contemplating calling him – you know, just to see how he was.

  Well, at least I have my answer now. He still looks amazing. He seems happy. And now I am completely and utterly miserable. If only I hadn’t agreed to this stupid dinner with Michael. But I was starving, and he was my boss, so how was I supposed to say no to him? Don’t get me wrong. Michael is a great guy, an amazing boss. Any other night, going out to dinner after a long day at work would have been welcome. But now, the circumstances have changed and I am highly inclined to turn and hightail it right out of here without explanation.

  “Right this way,” the waitress says.

  Luckily, the service here is great and our food comes rather quickly. I’m not sure if I scarf it down because of how hungry I am or how much I want to get out of here. Michael, on the other hand, seems to be taking his time.

  Despite the incessant babbling of my boss, I can’t seem to take my eyes off Landon. It’s probably not the best idea to keep staring at him, at his broad shoulders, his arms straining against the fabric of his shirt. Apparently I am a glutton for punishment, because looking at him is pure torture for me. My body aches, my sex throbs. I can practically feel my nails sinking into his skin as he pounds into me. Shit. Suddenly feeling flushed, I reach for my glass of water and take a long drink, wishing it was something a little bit stronger.

  Eventually the meal runs its course, and I manage to avoid Landon’s attention. A few more minutes and I can easily sneak out of here unnoticed. Michael gets up from his seat and pulls out my chair for me. As we head toward the door, I turn and take a quick look back at Landon.

  “Did you forget something?” Michael asks.

  “No, I…I saw someone I know. Give me one minute; I just want to say hi.” The words are out of my mouth before I know what I am saying. Apparently my body and my brain are not on the same wavelength--I sure as hell keep telling myself to turn around, to leave without saying goodbye, but my feet keep heading straight for him. Each step toward Landon, my heart beats faster, my palms begin to sweat. What the hell is wrong with me? I basically threw myself as the guy in Mexico and let him have me six ways from Sunday, but now a simple “hi” has me sweating bullets? I take a deep breath before I move closer. I can smell him, that warm subtle masculine scent I loved waking up to.

  “Hey, Stud,” I whisper breathily into his ear.

  Landon turns to me. Shock registers on his face, as though he can’t really believe I am real, that this is really happening. I know exactly how he feels. “Livie,” he exclaims. Pure happiness radiates from him. I can’t help but smile as I take in his features. He looks like a kid in a candy store, with that huge smile and his eyes sparkling with joy and a hint of mischief. My heart flutters with the way he is looking at me. I never thought that I, Livie Matthews, could ever make someone so happy. Who knew that I of all people, Ms. Always Unworthy, could end up being the only woman that Landon Sutton has eyes for when there are so many out there that desire him. It is a complete and utter turn-on, and at the same time it unnerves me to the core.

  He begins to rattle off questions as though I am some long-lost friend…how I am, how work is, what I have been up to. I try to answer him the best I can, but my mind is a little frazzled right now. The close proximity to him, him looking so damn amazing--it is all a little overwhelming. Despite trying to play it cool, I am just as happy to see him as he is to see me. We chat for a moment before it dawns on me that I left Michael waiting by the door. Shit, this was a terrible idea. I should have just left without saying anything, because now? Now, I don’t want to go anywhere. I want to stay right here with Landon in this moment--laughing, smiling.

  He offers me the empty seat next to him, but I decline. “I can’t, I’m sorry.” I look back at Michael and hold up a finger to indicate I will be just another second.

  “You’re on a date?” he asks, pain evident in his voice.

  “What? No.” I laugh at the thought. “Michael’s my boss. We were working late and decided to grab something to eat.”

  “That guy is your boss?” he asks, his eyebrows raised.

  I nod, unsure why he seems so confused by this. “Yeah, why?”

  “So you mean to tell me the guy who has bounced between checking out your ass, not that I blame him on that one, and shooting daggers at me the whole time we have been talking…is your boss?”

  I slap his arm playfully. “Oh, shut up. He is not checking out my ass.”

  “You don’t believe me? Look for yourself,” he challenges. “The guy looks jealous as hell right now.” A quick glance at Michael, and I realize Landon might be on to something. How have I never noticed this before? Michael and I have worked together for three years. But we’ve never actually had dinner just the two of us before. And come to think of it, we really didn’t discuss anything that was work-related this evening.

  “Shit,” I curse, which causes Landon to laug
h. “What the hell am I supposed to do now?”

  “Stay. I missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too.” I swear my brain is not in collaboration with the rest of my body still. It’s as though he put some voodoo curse on me in Mexico that I can’t seem to control. “And as much as I would like to stay, I can’t. We rode together, and I wouldn’t feel right just ditching him.”

  “Ask him to join us, then,” he suggests. I tilt my head to the side as I stare up at him quizzically. He can’t be serious. He said himself that Michael was already showing signs of jealousy. It’s doubtful that scenario would fly or would turn out well.

  “That is so not a good idea.” I can almost see the wheels in Landon’s head spinning, trying to figure out how to get rid of Michael. “Maybe some other time,” I offer.

  “It’s been too long already,” he concedes. He smiles, and I know that something clicked…he has a plan. “Be right back.”

  This shouldn’t concern me--it is Landon, after all. He is by far one of the most honest, trustworthy men I have ever met. But considering the way he just looked at me--as though I were his oxygen and without me he would die--this could be worse than I thought.

  My presence does not go unnoticed for long. A few of the guys have already offered a very formal “You’re Chase’s sister” hello, meaning they stand at least an arm’s length away. Carter Wallace, the Knights quarterback, makes his way over. He makes small talk about a picnic we both attended last summer and how our volleyball team put a hurt on all the other teams. All the while, my eyes never leave Landon as he makes his way to Michael. I may not be able to hear what they are saying, but their facial expressions tell me what I need to know.