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Bad Romance

Page 15

by Jen McLaughlin


  I wondered if Jackson saw it, too.

  “That you’re here?” Jackson asked, shrugging one shoulder. “Yeah, but I’ll cope.”

  I sighed, watching his arms. He carried a six-pack of beer and a pizza. I didn’t know which I wanted more—the beer, the pizza, or him. Who was I kidding? There was no competition. Jackson won, hands down. And he always would.

  Pursing my lips, I shook myself out of my Jackson trance and glanced at Derek to see if he noticed—but he was too busy admiring the same muscles I’d been. Swallowing hard, I tried my best to ignore the fact that my future husband was drooling all over the only man I had ever slept with. This was such an insanely messed-up situation. “Is one of those for me?”

  Jackson glanced at me, his jaw tight. “Yeah. Sure. If you want one.”

  “Thanks.”

  Standing, I raised my arms over my head, groaning when the aching muscles in my back finally got the chance to stretch out. Derek and I had been working on a crossword puzzle. I felt as if I were ninety years old already. Jackson watched me through narrow eyes, and for the first time in days, I saw desire there. It was enough to make me want to jump his bones—alleged fiancé in the room or not.

  Jackson studied me, as if he knew my thoughts, and smirked.

  Derek didn’t notice. He was too busy watching Jackson.

  “You want a beer?” I asked Derek.

  “Huh? Oh. No, thank you.” He glanced at his watch and stood. He’d gotten what he came for. He’d seen Jackson. “I have to go.”

  Jackson didn’t even look at him. Just set the beer down on the counter and opened the pizza box. “Sounds good. See ya.”

  I walked Derek to the door.

  He glanced toward the kitchen. “If he could just be a little more respectful, I wouldn’t mind him hanging around all the time, but he acts like I’m the interloper. He should be trying to be nice to me so I keep his secret, trying to please me…”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Never mind,” he said quickly, cheeks red. “I’ll see you later.”

  He ran out the door as if a rabid dog chased after him.

  Maybe I was that rabid dog. Maybe he was as unhappy with this possible marriage as I was. And maybe, just maybe, he could be an ally in escaping it. I closed the door behind him, sighed heavily, and dropped my forehead on the cool steel door. “Thank God.”

  “Thank God for what?” Jackson asked. “You all right?”

  “Yeah.” Now I’d have to deal with him being impossibly polite, all the while acting as if he’d never seen me naked before. “I, uh, my neck’s sore. I slept on it wrong last night.”

  He chuckled and the next thing I knew, his hands closed around my shoulders, and he was massaging my sore muscles. “You always were a restless sleeper. I remember you roaming the halls in the middle of the night, back when we were kids.”

  “I know. I still—” I broke off and moaned. I couldn’t help it. As soon as the sound escaped, he stiffened, but stepped closer. I could smell him. Feel him. Sense him. “I still do.”

  He stepped closer. One more step, and his zipper would dig into my back. And I would be able to feel his erection. I’d missed it. “I know. I heard you last night.”

  Yeah. I couldn’t sleep because of him. I bet he knew that, too. “Your mom talked about you a lot the other night,” I said, still holding the doorknob for dear life. “About how you might be coming home soon.”

  “I know.” He tensed. I couldn’t see it, but I could feel it. His hands continued rubbing, moving down my back slightly, but they were stiffer. “I told her I wasn’t anymore.”

  I tried to face him, but he kept me in place, massaging deeper. My eyes drifted shut. “At some point, you’re going to have to tell her.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.” He did it. Stepped even closer. All the nonchalance in the world couldn’t hide the fact that right here, right now, he wanted me. There was no way he could explain that away as a fluke. “Depends on if I stick around or not.”

  My stomach hollowed out, and I squeezed my thighs together. “What do you mean? Are you thinking about leaving again?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.” He leaned in and breathed in deeply. Had he just…just…sniffed my hair? He totally had. “There’s an opening in Hawaii, and a little bit of sand and sunshine sounds pretty damn nice to me right about now.”

  Hawaii. My throat dried out. I tried to picture him lying on the white sandy beach, and it made my stomach hollow out even more. I squeezed my legs tighter, but it didn’t dull the ache in my core. Or the emptiness that filled me at the thought of him leaving again. This time, he might not come back. “But that’s so far away.”

  “I know. That’s kinda the point.”

  I swallowed. “Does Nancy know?”

  “No. I only told you.” His hand slid down my back, and without meaning to, I leaned back into his erection, pressing my butt against him. We both froze, breaths held. “You know, you can press those sweet little legs of yours together all you want, but it won’t make it any better. Nothing will.”

  I spun, resting against the door, chest heaving. He’d taken off his button-up uniform shirt, and only had a dark green undershirt on now. “I know one thing that will.”

  “Lilly.”

  “Jackson,” I whispered back.

  He was so close, hovering over me.

  Close enough that all I had to do was rest my hands on his shoulders and rise on tiptoe—and I’d be able to kiss him. One small movement, and I would get what I wanted. He still held on to my shoulder, and the other hand held on to my hip. He didn’t let go.

  Didn’t reject me.

  After days of nothing but kindness and distance, it felt like a miracle. Like a ray of sunshine between two dark, stormy clouds. Slowly, I reached up and cupped his cheek. The second I touched him, he shook off whatever had held him captive and stepped back.

  Groaning, he dragged a hand through his hair and laughed. “Sorry. I zoned out for a minute there.”

  Swallowing the protest welling in my throat, I forced a smile. Pretended like I didn’t want to climb all over him like a monkey. “Yeah. Me, too. Totally.”

  “Anyway.” He rubbed the back of his neck and laughed again. It sounded more forced than before. “Yeah, so Hawaii. Maybe. Don’t tell anyone, though.”

  “I won’t,” I said softly. “Your secret is safe with me.”

  We locked gazes again. Neither of us moved. Finally, he cleared his throat and said, “Yeah. I know. And yours is safe with me.”

  I curled my hands into balls. “Which secret is that?”

  “The obvious one.” He looked me up and down. “The fact that no matter how much you pretend otherwise, you’re not okay with maybe marrying Preppy Prick. Or that you’re okay with him watching me with more interest than he’s ever shown you.”

  I shook my head. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?” He laughed and ruffled his hair with his hand. “Tell the truth?”

  “I told you.” I tilted my chin up. “It’s my business.”

  “That might be so.” He came closer again, nostrils flared. “But it doesn’t mean I can’t see the truth staring right back at me. You said you might get out of it, but I think you know, deep down, you won’t. And it’s killing you.”

  I shook my head. “If I have to do it, I will. And I’ll be fine.” I held my hands out. “What’s so wrong with that?”

  “You could stand up for yourself. Say no to your daddy for once in your life.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, because it’s that easy.”

  “It is,” he snapped.

  “You think I haven’t thought about saying no?” I advanced on him. He stepped back. “This isn’t about Daddy, or his wishes. This is more than that. I went to a lawyer. The merger is the only answer.”

  “Corporate America is alive and well. Yay,” he said drily.

  “It’s not like that,” I said through my clenched teeth. “If I don’t do this, thousands of live
s will be affected. Thousands of people will lose their jobs. Their houses. Everything. There’s no escaping that. Not for me.”

  He frowned. “Screw the companies, and the hell with your dad. Just walk away, make your own choices. It’s what I did.”

  “Yeah. I remember. I was there. Perhaps you didn’t notice me?”

  He flexed his jaw. “Don’t be a fool. I damn well noticed you. I just left, anyway. It’s what people do. They leave.”

  I stared back at him, unable to respond.

  Moments passed.

  Finally, I broke the silence because he obviously wasn’t going to. “It was different for you. You had the luxury of just thinking about yourself.”

  “The luxury of thinking about myself? I fought for my damn country. I put my life on the line every day for seven years.” He looked me up and down. “You’re going to tell me that’s a fucking luxury?”

  “That’s not what I meant.” I covered my face, exhausted from this constant battle with him. He didn’t, and never would, understand. “I mean, there are similarities between what you did and what I’m doing, in a sense. Obviously, I won’t be surrounded by death or be in mortal danger. But if I go through with this marriage, I’ll be giving up years of my life, too, for the greater good. Yes, you made an honorable sacrifice, and yes, that was amazing. But it was also a way for you to escape. You left us all behind without a second thought, and you got out. If it hadn’t been for your injury, you wouldn’t be here now. And you know it.”

  He gritted his teeth. “What does that have to do with you and Preppy Prick?”

  “I would be making an honorable sacrifice, too, if I married him. Sure, I wouldn’t get to escape, or start new.” I pressed my lips together. “But I’d be saving thousands of people from unemployment, foreclosure, divorce, stress, all kinds of consequences. All I have to do is marry Derek for a couple of years, and they’ll be saved. That’s my job. That’s my sacrifice. And it’s my choice to make. One I won’t take lightly.”

  No matter how much I wished I could.

  Chapter 15

  Jackson

  I stared at Lilly, trying my best not to curse and punch a wall. Because I understood why she was doing what she was doing now, and I still didn’t like it. She wasn’t doing this to be a martyr, or a good little girl for Daddy Dearest. She wasn’t looking for pity, or for me to save her from a fate she didn’t deserve.

  If she went through with it and married Derek, it would be because, to her, it was the right thing to do. She would be sacrificing herself, her freedom, her immediate future, and her happiness, to save the jobs of faceless employees who would never know they had her to thank for their padded bank accounts. She was being noble. Kind. Honorable.

  Son of a bitch.

  I couldn’t help but admire that.

  “All right,” I said, dragging a hand through my hair.

  She blinked at me, forehead wrinkled. “What?”

  “I said, all right.” I dropped my hands to my sides. “I don’t like it, or agree with it, but I get why you feel you have to do what you have to do. And it is noble, in a way.”

  “I’m not noble,” she whispered. “I’m trying to get out of it.”

  “Yeah, but if you can’t find a way that’ll save the companies, the people”—I locked eyes with her—“you’ll do it. Won’t you?”

  “Yeah.” Something laced her voice, and I couldn’t tell if it was fear or commitment to her cause. “I would. But I’m hoping I don’t have to.”

  I headed into the kitchen, not knowing what else to do or say. “Want a beer?”

  “Yes.” She followed me. “God, yes.”

  After opening the fridge, I pulled out a beer, twisted the lid off, and handed it to her, before getting my own. I still thought she was insane for going along with this, but I knew from personal experience how difficult it was to buck expectations, especially when other people would be affected by your actions. And she wasn’t the type of person to knowingly hurt other people. Even people she didn’t know.

  It was yet another thing I admired about her.

  When we were younger, one time Walt was harping on me, like he always did. She came into the room, blond hair flying behind her, and told him to knock it off.

  And Walt had. It had been the most peaceful day I’d had in that house.

  “So. Hawaii, huh?” she asked, staring at her beer bottle. “Do you, like, have a death wish or something?”

  I snorted. “If so, I suck at accomplishing it. I was in dangerous situations for the last seven years of my life, and I lived to tell about it. But tell me, how does living on Hawaii equal a death wish to you?”

  “It’s literally on a volcano.”

  I laughed this time, not bothering to hide it. “It sure as hell beats the desert.”

  “Yeah. I bet it does.” She scrunched her nose up. “What was it like over there?”

  Stiffening, I downed a big gulp of beer. I didn’t like talking about that. I saw more men die than I could count, killed more men than I wanted to count, and lost too many friends. Seen too many of them lose themselves, even myself. It was a constant battle to remain, well, me. To not lose myself to the memories or pain. But with her, I don’t know, it seemed right to answer. Like she deserved to know. “It was hell. And that’s about all I have to say about my time over there.”

  “Is that why you never wrote back?” She lifted her beer and pressed it to her lips, but didn’t take a sip. I couldn’t look away. “Because you had nothing to say?”

  Yes. And no. I hadn’t written back because I had nothing to say to her. While she chatted on about her life, and her future, I didn’t know whether I even had one anymore.

  But who wanted to hear that?

  “I read all the letters,” I said, instead. “Every single one.”

  She swallowed a sip of beer and leaned against the counter. The new position made her breasts jut out, and, again, I couldn’t stop staring. “You did?”

  “I did.” I still had them, upstairs in my room. Like Tyler said the other day, no matter where I went, or how many times I moved, they came with me. But I’d die before I admitted that. I also wouldn’t tell her that some of them had been reread over and over again, until they started to fade away. “I liked them. I missed them when they stopped.”

  We stared at one another, neither one of us speaking.

  I wanted to ask her if she’d stopped writing because she’d stopped loving me. But really, what the hell was the point? No matter what she answered, it wouldn’t change the fact that she was more than likely going to marry Derek, and I was going to continue on with my life alone. For some reason, that didn’t feel as good as it once had.

  And I had no idea what was on her mind, but she seemed equally contemplative.

  Finally, I cleared my throat and walked into the living room. She followed behind me. “What’s gonna happen when I move to Hawaii?”

  She let out a little laugh. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

  “What I mean is, who’s gonna be here to remind you to have fun? To make choices for yourself every once in a while?” I sat down and patted the spot directly next to me. She curled into the sofa without hesitation, her knees brushing my thigh as she settled in. “Who’s gonna be your next mistake?”

  “You weren’t a mistake,” she said, her voice soft. “You were one of the best decisions I ever made. That night, in your arms, I felt in control of my own life for the first time…well, ever. And it was exhilarating.” Peeling back the label of her beer, she bit down on her lower lip. “Thank you for giving me that.”

  I swallowed past my incredibly dry throat and tugged on my jeans. My cock had come to life the second she touched my thigh, and it wasn’t going to shut up anytime soon. “Lilly…you’re welcome. But let’s be honest. It was hardly a selfless act,” I said drily, trying to lighten the moment before I gave up the fight and pounced on her.

  Her mouth quirked up at the corners. “No?”

 
“No.” I chugged back some beer. “But you can’t just screw somebody when you need to let off steam. You need another thing. Maybe another person.”

  She blinked at me. “You want me to find another man?”

  “Hell, no.” I scowled. “Christ.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  “I know. Neither do I.” I rested a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. “All I know is I want you to be happy, and I know Derek won’t be any help there. So you need someone else. A best friend. A confidant. Something.”

  “I could have you…” She peeked at me. “We could write one another. Email, this time. Text, maybe. Or even better? You could stay. Not go.”

  I laughed uneasily, because I almost wanted to say yes. I wanted to be her support network, the person she turned to when she was in need, even though I knew it would kill me a little each time. “Based on past history, I think we know any correspondence between us would be one-sided.” I purposely ignored her suggestion I stay.

  It was out of the question. The last thing I wanted to do was stick around long enough to watch her marry Derek. Not even I was that masochistic.

  “It wouldn’t have to be. I’m not saying we’d have to share deep, dark secrets. Just keep the lines of communication open.” She smiled sadly. “If you wanted to try. We could still be friends.”

  My heart twisted because she wanted to rely on me, and I didn’t think I could be that guy for her. Eventually, I would let her down. Eventually, I would damage her. And I didn’t want to do that. Not to her. Anyone but her. “I can’t make you happy, Lilly. I can’t be that guy.”

  Lifting a shoulder, she finished off her beer and slid it across the coffee table, acting as if my rejection didn’t upset her. I got up and grabbed two more. Part of me wished I could be the type of guy who was okay with being the person she called when she had a bad day, or when she wanted to celebrate good news. The man who stuck around so he could be the guy who filled in as her plus-one at events Derek couldn’t attend. The guy whose shoulder she cried on when she needed someone strong to lean on.

  But I wasn’t. And I didn’t want to just be a stand-in. I wanted more, and for the first time in my life, I was willing to admit that.

 

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