by Lyla Grace
Before I hit the kitchen, I see her by the stove. Relief washes over me. Holy shit, she didn’t leave. Rather, she is standing in my kitchen, spatula in hand. She’s cooking. Does she even know how to do that? I stand there and watch her for a while, humming while she cracks and whisks and whatever the hell else she is doing amongst the gigantic mess she made. I will gladly take any mess she makes, because that means she is here to make it. I can’t take my eyes off of her, afraid that if I do, like a mirage she will disappear.
The hair I had in my fist last night is now tied up in a messy bun on top of her head. The button-down shirt she took off of me hangs down to mid-thigh. And those damn legs……I don’t care what she has them in, they looking fucking amazing. But it’s not her body I am focused on; it’s the humming. It’s light and carefree and happy. She seems happy, and the idea that her happiness might just have something to do with me. Well, fuck, if I thought my feelings were strong for her before, they just grew exponentially.
She turns to grab something off the island and catches me watching her. Her hand flies to her chest as she shrieks, obviously startled by my presence. “Holy shit, Landon, you scared me.” If only she knew that she did the same thing to me this morning when I woke up alone. But I will keep that little piece of info to myself. No need to tempt fate.
“I was enjoying the show,” I confess. “I didn’t know you could cook.”
“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, Stud.”
“Such as?”
“Such as…I’ve never had sex on a kitchen counter before.” She throws a smile at me over her shoulder while she continues with her work at the stove.
“I will make sure to rectify that after breakfast.” I move over to her and wrap my arms around her waist. “What’s cooking?”
“Omelets. I hope that’s okay. You had a ton of eggs in the fridge.”
“Sounds amazing.” I drop kisses down her neck, my hands beginning to explore her body a little more. Damn it all if seeing her in my clothes doesn’t make her even sexier.
She writhes her body against mine, trying to break free, but the feel of her against me only eggs me on more. No pun intended. She swats my hand with the spatula. “Easy, Stud, or this is going to burn.”
“What about me? I am burning with desire for you.”
She throws her head back and laughs. “Really? What is this, some cheesy romance novel?”
I kiss her neck one last time before moving away. “It was worth a shot.”
A few minutes later, breakfast is ready and on the table. This moment--sitting, eating, laughing--it all feels so natural. Livie seems so comfortable, such a far cry from where the evening started out yesterday. She leans forward on the table, coffee cup in her hands as she watches me eat her leftovers, partially because it was really good, and partially because I will do just about anything to keep this date going. She did mention something about sex on a kitchen counter, didn’t she? I am sure I can make that last awhile.
“I hate to be a buzz kill, but I have plans with Becca this afternoon.” Guess the kitchen- counter sex is going to have to wait.
“Let me grab a quick shower, and I’ll drive you home. Unless, of course, you want to join me?” I can see her thinking about it. And the moment she takes her bottom lip between her teeth, I decide to make the decision for her. I pick her up and toss her over my shoulder as she giggles. “And trust me, baby, I plan on dirtying you up plenty first.”
Chapter 11
Livie
And just like that, it’s over. Eighteen hours of pure bliss. I sit in the passenger seat of his car, his hand on my leg as mine are clasped in my lap. Last night…well, last night was a game-changer. I had wanted to go on a date with him; I even expected him to ensure it was an amazing date. What I hadn’t prepared myself for was for him to be a romantic genius. This man can conjure up things that dreams are made of. And that is exactly what he did last night. Every portion of our date was hand-picked and hand crafted by him. From his favorite restaurant that he had never taken anyone to before, to my favorite movie, then to his bed. Yet another spot that was only for me. I don’t know how you can make a girl feel more special than that.
And what do I give him to show him my appreciation? A stupid omelet. Mentally I berate myself for being such an idiot. He gives me a fresh start, a new beginning, and I give him eggs. It’s about time I put on my big-girl panties and do something for him, show him how much he means to me. It’s time I get out of my own head and give this amazing man what he has been waiting so patiently for.
Ever the gentleman, he opens the car door for me and offers me his hand to help me out. Once I am safely to my feet, he loosens his grip on my hand, just as I tighten mine on his. Hand in hand we make our way to my door, because according to Mr. Perfect Gentleman, it’s the proper way to end a first date. Personally, I prefer endings like the one he gave me in the shower this morning, but hey, I’m not going to complain.
When we finally reach my door I am still struggling with what I can say to make him feel as special as he makes me feel every day. The moment feels more poignant than it should. Technically, it was just a date. But, in reality, for us, it is so much more. I try putting together the right words, but the butterflies in my stomach have me so nervous.
“So…I, uh…I had a great time,” I stutter.
“You sure?” he laughs at the hesitation in my voice.
“Of course I’m sure,” I say. While I realize that he is only teasing me, his off-the-cuff comment also solidified what I already know. I need to give him a piece of myself that’s only for him. “I….” I turn away from him. This isn’t how I intended for this to go. I wanted it to be perfect but as usual I screwed it up. “Damn it,” I curse.
“Livie…” he says. I can hear all the questions he has tied to my name in that moment, without him even asking. His body is still. Ever patient, he gives me my space to work through whatever disaster I am currently putting us through.
I turn to face him, but my head remains down. I can feel his eyes boring a hole into my fragile psyche, but I just can’t seem to meet his eyes. I know what I will see: questions, concern, understanding. But I am just not ready. I shake my head as I begin to speak. “I wanted this to be perfect. You deserve perfect.”
“Nothing’s perfect, Livie. Not me, not you. And I wouldn’t want us any other way.”
I look up at him, his eyes filled with sincerity. “Landon Sutton, you are the most amazing man I have ever met. I don’t know how I got so lucky to have you in my life, but I sure as hell don’t deserve you.”
“Liv….”
“Let me finish.” I pause momentarily to compose myself. “But for whatever reason, you want me, all of me. You accept me for who I am…the good, the bad and the ugly. And that’s why…I want to try.”
“You want to try?” he asks, sounding kind of confused.
I nod. “I want to be with you Landon--really with you.”
“Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?” he asks, the tone of his voice giving way to the fact that he is making sure he understands me correctly before getting too excited.
“That depends on what your answer is.”
“You really have to ask?” He tilts my chin up, his face serious. “Nothing in the world would make me happier, Livie. I love being with you. I told you before, I want you in my life any way I can have you. And if I am more than just your booty call – all the better.”
A sigh of relief escapes my lips. Because, despite him telling me on a daily basis how much he wants me, I still have a hard time believing it. I mean, who in the world would put up with everything I have put him through these last few months? Not your typical man, that’s for sure. Lucky for me, Landon is anything but typical. I am so glad that, for whatever reason, he seems to like my kind of crazy.
“You know you were always more than just a booty call, right?” I ask him.
“Will you shut up and kiss me already?” he says as he pre
sses me against the door with his strong body. His lips find mine in celebration of this new beginning for us. The kiss deepens, going further than I anticipated. But with us, that always seems to happen. There is some unexplainable force that connects us, not only physically but emotionally, too. No matter how hard I try to fight it, deep down I think I always knew I would give in. Because, damn. He is worth giving in to.
“Sorry, Stud, but I really need to go.” His forehead rests against mine.
“You literally drive me crazy--you know that, right?” he asks, his hands still not leaving their hold on my body.
I can’t help but laugh. Because I know it’s the truth. The Landon I know, he’s not the same guy that everyone gets to see--he doesn’t lose control for just anyone. He saves that just for me. It is by far one of the most damn empowering things I have ever experienced in my life. A quick peck on his cheek, and I manage to sneak away and close the door behind me. I rest my satiated body against the door. Last night was magical, more than I could have ever imagined, more than I ever thought I deserved. But hell if I don’t want to deserve it; and that want is so strong that I am about willing to do anything to make sure that I am worthy--including throwing my stupid rules out the window and letting in this amazing guy who, for whatever reason, has eyes only for me.
I push myself off the door when I hear a sound from the kitchen. I pause for a moment when I see the shadowy figure in the kitchen doorway.
“Hello, Olivia.”
Chills run down my spine. It has been four years since I have heard that voice. I am frozen against the door, my feet cemented to the floor with fear. I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping that when I open them, he will be gone. I silently pray that this is all just some nightmare. After everything that happened with Landon, how right everything felt just moments ago…I can’t fathom that this is happening. That once again, Will is ruining my happiness. Shit, shit, shit. My eyes fly open the moment I feel his hands on me. “No!” I scream. His hand clamps down over my mouth to quiet me. The sentencing hearing was the last time I saw him. I was petrified by the look in his eyes as he walked past me that day for what I hoped would be the final time. But that look? That was nothing compared to the fury and rage I see in them now.
I have to get out of here. I have to get help. I refuse to be his victim again. Because in this moment, I am certain he will kill me if I don’t. There is no other choice…fight or flight. And thanks to Landon, I have so much to fight for now. I push against Will and when I can get myself into position, I shove my knee into his groin with as much force as I can. As he doubles over, he reaches for me, but my hand is on the door, yanking it open before he can reach me. “Help,” I scream loudly. I run just a few feet before I hit something solid.
“Baby, what is it?” Landon’s arms are around me in an instant. Despite knowing that any minute Will is going to show up, I am no longer afraid. If there is one thing I am certain of, it’s that with Landon I am safe.
My heart is still racing and from the panic I can barely utter the words, “W-Will.”
When it clicks exactly who Will is, Landon tenses. He steps in front of me, his body shielding me from that man that is currently stalking toward us.
“Well, if it isn’t Landon Sutton, Chase’s right-hand man. Does he have you playing bodyguard for his sister now too?” Will taunts.
Landon clenches his fist. “No, asshole. I am here to keep you from putting your hands on my girlfriend…ever again.”
Will bursts out in laughter, the sound more evil and condescending then I recall it being. “You would think a big shot football star would be able to find someone a little less--”
“Watch how you finish that sentence,” Landon warns as he takes a step forward.
“Or what?” Will taunts.
Before I realize what has happened, Landon has Will by the shirt. In one swift move, he slams Will against the wall to my right. And just as quickly, he hits the wall to my left. It’s then that I notice that Will’s feet aren’t even touching the ground. “I will not hesitate to end you,” Landon growls through gritted teeth.
“Landon, no. He’s not worth it,” I shout. I love that he is protecting me, but I refuse to let him do anything to jeopardize everything he’s worked for.
“She’ll never love you the way she loves me--she’ll always be mine, always come back to me. Won’t you Olivia?” Will says. The way he says my name sends chills down my spine.
Landon tosses him to the ground like a five-pound dumbbell. “She never loved you, asshole,” Landon says recalling the words I spoke to him all those years ago. “I suggest you get the fuck out of here before I make good on my promise.”
Will shakes his head as his tall, languid body exits the building. “I’ll go, but I will be back,” he promises.
The moment Will is out of my sight, the adrenaline that was keeping me upright wears off, and I sink to the ground. Landon falls to the ground beside me. His hands cup my tear- stained face. “Baby, you okay? Did he hurt you?”
The concern in his voice is evident, and I can’t bear it. A fresh wave of tears begins to flow. Unable to speak, I shake my head. Though I know he would rather hear the words, know for certain that Will didn’t touch me, through the tears I can still see the tension in his shoulders ease.
He maneuvers me off of the floor onto my feet. “Come on, sweetheart, we need to get you out of here,” he says.
I couldn’t agree more. The adrenaline drop has left me weak and shaky; his strong arm around me holds me up as we make our way back to my apartment. “He’s gone,” Landon reminds me as we stand in the same place where Will had just attacked me. Maybe at the moment, but Will said he was coming back. And there isn’t a doubt in my mind that he meant it. “You’re safe now. I won’t let him hurt you.”
I walk through the apartment to my bedroom. This is my home, my safe haven--and now? I shudder. He invaded it. God--who knows how long he had been here, what he had touched or done?
I turn to Landon. “You can’t promise me that. You don’t know him, what he’s capable of.”
“And you have no idea what I am capable of. Pack a bag. We need to get you out of here,” he says. He takes his phone from his pocket and heads back out to the living room.
I know he is calling Chase. Part of me wants to stop him; part of me is grateful that he is doing it, not me. I realize I am being childish, that I should be the one calling him. But I can’t. While I know that Chase just cares about and wants to protect me, I also know that he is going to be pissed--make that livid--that I never told him Will was getting released. It dawns on me that the prison was supposed to notify me the day of his release. I pick up my phone. There, plain as day, is an unfamiliar number and a message that I never checked because I was too busy worrying about my date with Landon and not my psychotic ex being paroled.
Landon comes back into my room, but instead of helping me pack, he stands there, hulking over me. “Thanks for talking to him for me,” I say.
“How long have you known?” he asks. I continue to pack, but he grabs the shirt out of my hand. “How long have you known, Livie?”
I sigh and sit down on the bed. “The day after the supply closet encounter.”
“That was weeks ago,” he yells.
“I know. I just didn’t want to worry you--or Chase, for that matter. Not until there was something to worry about, at least. Then everything with us started to change, and for the first time in the past four years I forgot about him, about what he did to me. And I lost myself in us. The parole board called to let me know yesterday, but I guess I was a little too preoccupied to check my messages.”
I can hear him curse under his breath as he begins absently throwing items into a suitcase I had placed on the bed. I touch my hand to his arm. “I’m sorry.” He puts his hand behind my neck and pulls me close, his lips pressing against my forehead. He doesn’t say anything, but I know he isn’t angry with me. He’s scared. Scared about what could have happened had he not
been here, scared about losing me.
Landon drops my bags in the living room. “Is that it?”
Before I can answer him, Becca walks through the door. “What do we have here? Taking a trip?” she asks. Landon looks at me, and I don’t speak--I burst into tears…again. Becca’s arms are around me instantly. I recount the details of the afternoon, minus the good parts with Landon.
“I just can’t stay here,” I tell her.
“You probably shouldn’t, either,” Landon warns Becca. “I can get you a hotel room for a while until we sort all this out,” he offers.
“Penthouse suite?” Becca teases to try to break the tension.
“Would I offer anything less?” Landon replies.
“I knew I liked you,” Becca says with a wink. “Don’t worry about me. I have plenty of places to go. Just promise to keep me posted?”
I hug her tight. “Of course.”
She turns to Landon. “And you…make sure that creep stays away from her?”
“You have my word,” Landon replies as he picks up my bags and heads out the door.
I follow closely behind him as he makes his way to his car and places the bags in the trunk. He opens the passenger door for me, and I get in. I lean back against the head rest and close my eyes. I feel his hand squeeze my thigh. “It’s going to be okay, Livie. I promise.”
He takes off down the street, and where I expect him to take a left, he instead makes a right. I look over at him, confused. We are going in the complete opposite direction of Chase’s condo.
“I don’t want to stay in a hotel,” I begin. “I would rather stay with Chase.”
“Sorry to disappoint, but you’re staying with me.”
“I…I can’t do that. I can’t impose on you like that.”
His hearty laugh kills the tension in the air that’s been there since Will’s arrival. “Impose? You, Livie, are about as far from an imposition as you can get. My building is more secure than Chase’s. Besides, I want you there with me so I can keep you safe. No arguments.”