by Calinda B
"Simon, wait. Don't leave yet," the words were said low, but he'd heard her.
A few steps from the front door, he paused and turned around. "Why? What else is there to say?"
"You're still my closest friend," she paused and smiled when he raised one eyebrow as if to question her statement. "You are. Even when I didn't act like it. I missed you every day while I was away. I missed hearing your voice and telling you about the crazy things I did. All the travel I experienced. If only you'd been with me when I traveled to Paris. There was this little bistro down the road from my hotel."
"You loved their cinnamon croissants," he said without thinking of what he'd given away.
"I did. They were so..." she trailed off and stared at him. "How did you know?"
Still not catching on to what happened, Simon was confused. "Know what?" he asked.
"The croissants...Did you have me followed?" her voice rose in volume as she finished her question.
Fuck!
Putting his hands out in front of him, he tried to calm her down, "Mouse, wait a minute. You don't understand. It's not what you think."
Righteous anger filled her voice. "Then why don't you tell me what it is," she said with a wave of her hand.
"I needed to know you were okay. You wouldn't contact me. Every attempt I made to reach you was ignored. Not one fucking word from you in six years, Melanie. What the fuck was I supposed to do?" Now he was yelling again.
"But you kept tabs on me, Simon. Someone was watching my every move. That wasn't fair, and you know it."
What wasn't fair was her standing in front of him with her bare skin showing, looking like every wet dream he'd ever had. Simon closed his eyes for a second and took a few deep breaths. He needed a fucking drink. He strolled over to the liquor cabinet, pulled out a twenty-five-year-old whiskey, and poured two fingers worth into a crystal glass. Taking the brown liquid down in one gulp, he allowed the burn to clear a path to his stomach. Those few moments cleared his head as well. Antagonizing her was not going to make this better.
Holding the glass in his hand, he looked at the bottom, seeking answers to questions she hadn't yet thought to ask.
"Melanie, I was worried about you. I needed some fucking peace," he said with a derisive laugh. "At nineteen, I was feeling homicidal and out of sorts. My head was all fucked up and my heart was twisting into a goddamn pretzel. All I knew was that I needed to make sure you were okay. That you were safe. And if I couldn't be there with you, I needed someone who could."
Raising his eyes to hers, he saw her standing no more than ten feet in front of him. The pink of her toes caught his eyes and he smiled. Hot pink had always been her favorite color. He was glad to know some things hadn't changed.
"How did we get like this?" she asked in a wobbly voice.
If she started crying, he'd lose his shit. He'd never been able to handle her tears and he sure as shit didn't want to put his resolve to the test tonight.
Glancing around the room, he took in the home he'd come to love as much as his own. Their lives had been intertwined for so long, there was no way he'd be able just walk away from her.
Taking a few moments to think about her question, he shook his head when the answer didn't miraculously appear. At least, not the answer he wanted to give. "I don't know. I thought I was doing the right thing by leaving you alone. It only made you feel like I never wanted you at all. Never needed you. When you were the only thing I ever needed."
"I...I..." she stopped and inhaled, before exhaling loudly. "I needed to find out who I was without you."
Everything in him froze at her words. It was the exact thing both his father and her parents had told him all those years ago. How long had she felt that way? He'd never wanted her to lose herself to be with him. From the time he could remember, the only word that came to mind when he thought of her was perfect.
"What does that mean, Melanie?"
"You know what it means. You saw how I was back all those years ago," she countered as she began pacing along the bare floor.
"No. I need you to explain it to me. Explain this to me as if I'm a slow learner. Because I don't want any other misunderstandings between us." Her running away from him was ripping him apart and he wanted to this pain to stop.
Her smile was sad and a bit derisive as she paced closer to him, "It means, I needed to know if I could live without you. Was I able to move on and live my life if you weren't in it? You know, things like date other men. Love another man. Could my world survive without Simon Wendell Quinn?"
Love another man? Hell no. That shit was never going to happen, so she'd better get that thought out of her fucking head right now.
His fingers gripped the glass in his hand so tight, he had to set it down before he broke it. Chills coursed through his body at the thought of Melanie walking away and choosing another man. Loving another man. Her body pregnant with child by another man. "Never," he said aloud.
"What?" she asked, stepping closer.
Tightening his lips, he took a deep breath before getting control of his emotions. "Did it work? Were you able to find out who Melanie Ford is without Simon Quinn? Can you survive without me?" He'd never admit it, but his heart stopped beating as he waited for her to answer his questions.
Her chest role and fell as she fell considered her answer, and his eyes were drawn to the motion.
"Yes, it worked and yes, I did." When she'd first realized it, she'd been floored. She'd woken up one morning and gone about her day like normal. It wasn't until sometime after lunch when the first thought of Simon had entered her mind. Everything in her froze once the truth hit her.
Her hand lifted to his face and she cupped his jaw. It was the first time she'd initiated contact with him all night. His head turned slightly as he pressed his lips against her palm. She continued speaking and the words tore him apart piece by piece.
"I now know that I can survive without you," she whispered. "If you walked away from me tonight and never thought of me again, I would still wake up in the morning. The sun would rise. The seconds, minutes and hours would pass until I went to sleep. And the next morning, the cycle would begin again. Yes, Simon Quinn, I can survive without you."
Taking a deep breath, he pulled away. He grabbed both of her hands in his and kissed her knuckles. He should walk away, but he couldn't. There was no way he could just give up on them. On her. She was his. It had always been their truth.
And they both knew it.
Voice thick, he struggled to find the right words. So, he stuck with something the truth. "That's too bad."
"What is?" she questioned.
"That you've decided you can live without me."
"Simon—"
"Because I've had the same amount of time away from you and I've made some decisions as well." A smile came over his face and he stepped in closer, bringing them to within inches of each other. "I can't live without you. Actually, I refuse to live without you."
Bringing his head down, he captured her lips in a heated kiss. It was time to fight for his woman and the battle started tonight.
5
His soft lips pressed against hers. Demanding a response. Enticing her to open for him. Powerless to resist, she sank deeper into him. Standing on her toes, her body was flush against his as she did her best to crawl inside of him. If there was any way for her to get closer to him, she would do it. His tongue slide along the seam of her lips and she moaned in need.
Stomach clenching in desire, Melanie hoped this kiss wouldn't stop any time soon. Sure, she'd explored with men in the past, but none of them had made her feel this way. At no time had she ever felt this deep need to give herself over to him. Reveling in the feelings he pulled from her, she raised her arms to wrap them around his neck. Her fingers grabbed the thick strands of his hair, pulling him closer to her.
Simon pulled away from her, slowly breaking their kiss. "Open your eyes, Melanie."
No. If she opened her eyes, the spell would be broken, and she'd fall back
down to earth. All she wanted, all she needed, was to stay in the bubble, this dream of her and Simon. "I don't want to," she murmured.
"Open them up. Come on," he cajoled. Even worse, he took a step away from her. Cool air replaced the warmth of his body as he moved away from her.
Huffing loudly, she peeked one eye open and squinted at him. "Why'd you do that? I was just fine where I was."
Both of his hands lifted to rest on her bare arms. He began rubbing his calloused hands up and down her arms. They were rougher than she remembered. A shiver coursed through her body at the thought of what those hands would feel like on the more sensitive parts of her body. His eyes were intense as they followed the motion, but she liked the way he was looking at her and didn't want him to stop.
"I've waited so long for you," his voice was husky, as if he'd forced the words from his mouth.
For so long, she'd hoped to hear these words from him. But was it too late? He'd hurt her with the words he'd said in the family room earlier. It was as if he hated her. Closing her eyes, this time in despair as she thought about earlier. Losing their heads in the middle of the foyer was not the way to fix things. She missed her best friend.
Opening her eyes, she stared at his face and noticed the differences that had taken place during the past six years. His face was as stunning and beautiful as always, but now there was a hardness around his eyes and lips. No longer was he the carefree boy who'd allowed her to push and pull him around his backyard. Giving in to whatever crazy demands she wanted.
Oh no, that young boy was no longer here. In his place stood a man. Someone she was afraid she no longer knew.
"Do you know I'd loved you since I was thirteen?"
The sudden lift of his head caught her off-guard. Blue eyes stared at her with an intensity she'd never seen before. "What?"
Laughing, she took a step back. "Yup. You just didn't know it and I was too scared to say anything. It was the fourth of July. Our parents had all those fireworks they'd purchased in Pennsylvania."
A smile came over his face and it changed his entire look. Gone was the overly intense man who made demands and growled all the time. This was the face of the boy she'd fallen in love with. "Yeah, I remember that. I think there were more than a hundred people at our house for our annual party."
Resting against the staircase bannister, she placed a barefoot on the bottom step. The cool touch of the wood kissed her skin as she placed one of her arms on the polished surface. "Not that many, but it was close enough," she sighed. "I'd gotten my braces off two weeks earlier, but was still nervous about smiling."
"I remember," he nodded.
"That night, Harold Thompson came up to me and said, and I quote 'You still look like a horse face, even without your braces.' I was devastated. All I wanted to do was hide." Even now the memory tore at her. As a child, she'd never considered herself exceptionally pretty. Her face was long, her body still held some baby fat, and she went through an awkward phase that seemed to last forever. Kids never realized how much their words could hurt. But Simon...that night, he'd been her savior.
"I remember," he said, his voice a hairsbreadth away from her.
How the hell did he get so close without her knowing it? Too damn sneaky for his own good.
Her smile was huge as she remembered what Simon had done to Harold. From that night forward, she never had any issues out of him.
"Are you ever going to tell me what you did you do to him?" He'd never told her what he did to make Harold apologize. She was young, but she could still see the fear in Harold's eyes and the shaking of his body as he stood in front of her stuttering the words, I'm sorry.
"I made him the see the error of his ways, No one hurts you and gets away with it," he whispered. Lifting one hand, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"Then, once he left, you stood next to me. You wrapped your arm around my shoulder and told me...you said..."
Cupping her face between his hands, he bent down a few inches until he was eye level with her. "I said no one will ever hurt you when I'm around. I told you, when you need me, all you have to do is call and I'll come running."
Nodding her head up and down, she felt her heart expand as he repeated the words he'd said to her that summer night. Giggling at the memory, she couldn't hold back her smile. "And then you told me you thought I looked pretty with my braces off, but that you also thought I was pretty with them on. It was the nicest thing you'd said to me."
A slight red hue came over his cheeks as he removed his hands. "Well, I meant it. He was an ass. When we were sophomores in high school, I found out he'd liked you all along, but was too scared of what you'd say."
"Well, I didn't like him. I had someone else in mind."
Staring at her for a few long seconds, his blue eyes seemed to darken as he stood in front of her. "Melanie, don't play with me."
Tired of playing this game with him, she wanted him to stop being in control of everything. There was nothing wrong with just letting things play out. Simon was entirely to focused on being the only one with the power in their relationship.
"Simon, I need to ask you something," she said. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
"Go ahead."
"Why didn't you wait for me?" There, she'd said it. The question had been rolling around in her gut for years. If only he'd waited for her, she would have given him whatever he wanted. There would have been no reason for anyone else in their lives because they would have had each other, but he'd chosen other girls (women) over her.
His broad back was the next thing she saw. He'd turned away from her. Melanie watched him take some deep breaths as he kept facing the front door. Was he trying to decide if he should leave? Was her question that bad? Her face fell in defeat.
"I don't know," he responded after a few moments.
His words were low, but she'd heard them. He'd almost broken her. She'd left her home to get away from him and the heartbreak. And he didn't know why he did what he did?
The pitch of her voice was high and tight. "You don't know?"
When he turned to face her, she noticed he'd schooled his features again. Whatever indecision had pressed down on him as he faced the other direction had disappeared. "I was young. I didn't know any better. It didn't dawn on me what I'd done until you'd walked away from me and never came home."
Her voice broke on a sob, "You left me first." Wiping at her eyes to prevent the tears from falling, she faced him head-on. They would either get all this anger between them and move forward, or they wouldn't. But she couldn't live in the same city as him, be near him on a regular basis, and still not have this resolved.
"You still had to grow into who you were going to be. I thought I was doing the right thing." Another deep sigh came from him. "Come on Melanie. I don't want to fight with you tonight."
Well, too bad, because she did! Chest heaving with frustration and anger at his callous behavior, she wanted to scream at him. Then again, her body wanted something else from. And that thought cleared red haze of anger from her mind. If she acted on her feelings for him tonight, there would be no going back. Not for her.
For him? Well, he'd have another notch on his belt, but she had no delusions that he'd accept everything she wanted to give him. Including her love.
"I don't want to fight with you either." Looking over at the clock, she noticed another forty-five minutes had passed. It felt as if they were going around in circles. "Do you have somewhere to be tonight?"
She watched him glance over at the clock and say something under his breath. His phone came out of his pocket and he held up one finger to her as he walked into the other room. Well, what the hell was that about? If it were his parents or brother, he would have taken the call in front her. Right? Yes, she was positive about that. So, it must be someone else. Girlfriend. Chick of the week? Booty call that he was late for?
Why did she put herself through this? She hadn't been home for more than seventy-two hours and she could fee
l herself becoming too damn wrapped up in Simon Quinn. Again. She didn't give a shit if he had a girlfriend. He could have ten girlfriends' if he wanted to. That had always been his thing for as long as she'd known him. Have multiple women at one time so he could call them back-to-back if the others were too busy. Man-whore.
"Had to make an urgent call," he said, walking back into the room. "Won't happen again."
Now she was pissed. And maybe a little jealous. Crossing her arms, she lifted her nose in the air. Her gaze looked everywhere but at him. "I don't care. Go to your latest squeeze of the week. You don't need to be here with me. We're only friends anyway. Right?"
In two quick strides, he was right back in front of her again. "You are not my friend," he growled.
At her gasp, he clasped her chin and brushed his lips against hers. "You are, and have always been, so much more to me than just a friend. Why won't you believe me?"
Should she admit why she felt this way? Would telling him the crazy thoughts flying around in her head do any real good. Looking at him standing in front of her, she could almost pretend they hadn't spent years away from each other. She could try to convince herself he'd been at home pining away for her, even though she knew it wasn't true.
"Tell me. Why don't you believe what I tell you?" he pressed again.
She fought to keep the words inside, but she was losing the battle. Biting her lip, she tried to force her mouth to stay shut. She didn't want him to explain, it would only hurt more.
"Melanie. I'm waiting," he wrapped his thick arms around her waist, pulling her inches closer to him.
The words exploded from her, baring all the hurt she still held inside. "Because you never came for me. I waited for you to come and find me, but you never did. You only sent those fucking letters and emails, but not one time did you get on a plane and come to me. I wanted you to. I waited for you to show up. But you never did. I wasn't important enough for you to get off your rich, entitled ass to fight for me. You just let me go."
Simon couldn't believe what he'd heard come out of her mouth. This couldn't be real. There was no way she was seriously saying this shit. He lifted his face to the ceiling and took some deep breaths. She was going to be the death of him and didn't even realize it.