Love Me Not

by Reese Ryan

  “Mother!” Kari blurted, her cheeks red.

  “That’s enough!” Miles barked at the same time. “You will not—”

  Jamie put a hand up, halting Miles midsentence. A wry smile snarled the corner of her mouth. So there it is. She much preferred her enemies to declare themselves openly. She’d take open animosity over pretense any day of the week. “Actually, Mrs. Copeland—” her tone was gleeful at the use of the name Lucinda had just asked her not to call her, “—I have plans this afternoon.” Jamie turned toward Miles. “I’m going to get some more painting done before family dinner tonight, but I’ll see you whenever you get some time.” She wrapped her arms around his waist, lifting on her toes and pressing her mouth to his. She surveyed Lucinda’s expression, enjoying the heat spreading through the woman’s face. Her heart pounded and every muscle in her body was tense, ready for a fight. But she refused to give this arrogant shrew the satisfaction of seeing her squirm. If she’d been anyone else, Jamie would have told her exactly what she thought of her and where she could stick her unsolicited opinions. But she cared for Miles, and the woman was his mother. So instead she deepened her defiant smile. “Again, it was a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Copeland. You, too, Kari.”

  “I’d love to do lunch or something later this week,” Miles’s sister said.

  “Miles will give you my number.” Jamie managed a polite smile then quickly exited the door.

  Miles followed her into the hall. “Jamie.”

  She kept walking toward the elevator.

  “Jamie!” he called again, trotting to catch up with her.

  She punched the down button, still not looking at him.

  He put a finger under her chin, lifting it so their eyes met. “At least let me explain.”

  “What’s there to explain? Your mother and sister were here, and you were embarrassed to introduce me to them.”

  “Is that really what you think? That I’m embarrassed to be dating you?” A hurt look marred his handsome face.

  “Why else would you lie about it?” She stared at him defiantly.

  The elevator door dinged and then slowly slid open. An older man and woman were inside.

  “Sorry, we’ll take the next one,” Miles said.

  The man huffed and punched the button to close the doors.

  “I didn’t lie to you,” he said in a loud whisper. “Maybe I wasn’t completely honest, but I never lied to you.”

  She took a huge step backward, creating space between them. “The openness you claimed you wanted in this relationship apparently only goes one way.”

  Miles lowered his gaze, his chin dropped to his chest and his shoulders slumped. “It seemed like the right decision at the time, but I was wrong, and I’m sorry.” Jamie leaned against the wall but didn’t respond. “How’d you know—”

  “Lisa saw you with a woman, who I assume was your sister. Unless, of course, you have some other secrets you’ve been keeping from me. Like a wife. Or kids.”

  Miles winced as if he’d been punched. “I deserved that, and I can’t tell you enough how sorry I am. But I’m not embarrassed of you. Nothing could be further from the truth.” He closed the space between them, gripping her shoulders lightly.

  “Why then?” She forced her gaze to meet his. No matter what was there in his eyes, she needed to see it, to know the truth. Even if it’d hurt like hell.

  His hands trailed down her arms before gently gripping her elbows. “After the way you reacted when I told you how I felt about you, I didn’t want you to feel like I was pushing you too hard or too fast. I mean, asking you to meet my mother... C’mon, that wouldn’t have freaked you out a little?”

  Okay, so maybe he did know her. “It would’ve totally freaked me out. Especially since it’s pretty obvious she doesn’t like me.”

  Miles’s cheeks were red. He gritted his teeth. “Lucinda was in complete bitch mode in there, and I’m sorry about that. If she thinks for one minute that she can come in here and—”

  “Look, I appreciate you wanting to defend my honor or whatever. But I don’t want you fighting with your mom over me. Besides, if I were in her shoes I probably wouldn’t want my son seeing me either,” she said bitterly. “We’re so different. Our families are different. Everything about us is—”

  “Everyone’s different. That’s what makes life exciting. Who said two people need to be exactly alike to be together? That’d be boring.”

  “That’s just one of those things we say when it suits us.” Jamie’s voice was quiet, but her gaze held his. “But it’s never really true, is it?” She broke away from his grip and punched the elevator button again.

  He stood beside her, both of them facing the polished stainless steel doors. “Maybe you’re right,” he said quietly. “But I won’t be satisfied until I find out whether it’s true for us. I hope you feel the same.”

  Her stomach clenched. She cared for Miles; she really did. But with this feeling came a host of others she hadn’t anticipated—like fear.

  She was no chickenshit. After all, she’d gone skydiving on a dare and ridden motorcycles and terror-inducing roller coasters. She was certainly no stranger to risky, adrenaline-based decisions. But letting Miles in so deeply that he could hurt her was the most dangerous thing she’d ever done. Maybe they should cut their losses and move on before someone got hurt.

  But when she peered into those hypnotic blue eyes, just like that, she’d been lured in again. She nodded, a small smile lifting the corners of her mouth.

  Miles took her into his arms and pressed his mouth to hers in a long, slow kiss that melted her heart and set her skin on fire.

  “Are you two getting on?” A kindly older woman peered at them earnestly, eyes filled with amusement.

  Miles and Jamie separated. “I am,” she said, stepping onto the elevator and raising her hand in a low wave.

  “I’ll call you as soon as I can,” Miles was saying as the door closed.

  Jamie pressed her back against the elevator and shook her head slightly. What in the hell had she gotten herself into?

  Chapter Nineteen

  Miles stepped inside the door to his mother and sister sitting on the couch, waiting for him. Lucinda’s eyebrows knitted with worry. Legs crossed, her right heel swatted the air.

  “How dare you pull a stunt like that,” Miles seethed, his finger stabbing the air as he spoke. “This is my home, and Jamie is my girlfriend. You don’t get to come in here and pull shit like that. Ever.”

  “I certainly didn’t intend to offend you—or her, for that matter. She’s a lovely girl, albeit a little...edgy for your taste.” Lucinda softened her gaze and relaxed the muscles in her face. “I just wondered what you see in the girl.”

  Miles forced a long stream of air through his nostrils before he trusted himself to speak. “She’s remarkable. Smart. Funny. Sweet. Painfully honest. I can talk to her about anything and she has this way of cutting through the bullshit and laying it on the line in its simplest form. She’s an unbelievably talented artist. She gets me in a way no one ever has. That’s why I love her.”

  Lucinda and Kari’s eyes widened. He could smell the sheer panic emanating from his mother’s skin. He hoped she’d brought her anxiety pills, or she’d be consuming a lot of vodka today.

  “You love her? But you’ve only known her for a few months. You met her in a bar, for God’s sake. How can you possibly think you love her?”

  Miles sank his teeth into the flesh inside his cheek, wishing he’d chosen his words more carefully. “I just do. End of story.”

  “She’s hot, I’ll give you that,” Lucinda said, causing Miles and Kari to exchange glances. They’d never heard their mother use that word in regard to anything but food or the weather. “But hot sex does not love make. Ask your father.”

  Heat spread up Miles’s neck and across his cheeks. His grimace turned to a glower. Kari gave him an expressive gaze, silently begging him to let it go.

  Miles sucked in a deep br
eath and stalked over to the window. He stared out on the city, his back turned to his mother. “This is nothing like Dad’s trysts. For starters, I’m not married and neither is she.” He turned back toward his mother, not wanting to miss the look on her face. “And I think I’m old enough to know the difference between a good fuck and really caring about someone.”

  “Miles Aurelius Copeland!” Lucinda splayed her open palm against her chest and gasped, as if a heavyweight prize fighter had just knocked the air out of her.

  A wicked grin tugged at the corners of Kari’s mouth. She placed a hand on her mother’s shoulder. “Relax, Mother. Miles is just making a point, and a very good one. It isn’t your job or mine to decide who he should or shouldn’t care about.”

  Lucinda scowled, directing an icy squint at her daughter. She turned back to her son, who stood across the room, arms folded, chin lifted in defiance. She climbed to her feet, her heels clicking across the wood floor as she closed the space between them, her gaze never leaving his. “You know I only want what’s best for you. It’s all I’ve ever wanted for you. Even when you were with Evie—”

  His jaw tightened and he jabbed a condemnatory finger in her direction, causing her to take a small step back backward, her chin lowered and shoulders rounded. A small gasp escaped her pinched lips. His voice wavered. “Do not bring up Evie.”

  It was suddenly hard to breathe. That single utterance—Evie—seemed to suck every ounce of air from his lungs. He turned back to the window, clenching his teeth, determined not to allow the emotion rising from his gut to be visible on his face. It felt like a lifetime ago, but it’d been a little more than seven years since Evie had died on that hotel room floor, a used syringe beside her. Tightening his jaw, he blinked back hot tears. Surprising. He’d been sure there wasn’t another tear left in his body to shed for Evie, the girl he’d loved madly and deeply but couldn’t save.

  “I think we should give Miles some space.” Kari’s voice was soft but firm. When there was no response from Lucinda, her tone turned insistent. “Now.”

  Miles didn’t turn around. He stared out of the window, barely breathing, until he heard both bedroom doors shut.

  * * *

  Evelyn Van Buren had been gorgeous. Nearly six feet tall, she had long, dark, wavy hair and a captivating smile. His heart ached as he remembered that smile and the sound of her laugh. Some nights he still missed her. Even after all these years.

  “Evie,” he whispered aloud, his forehead leaning against the cold, hard glass as he stared down onto the street. All the old questions he’d tortured himself with night after night, for so many years, churned in his head again. Pain, regret and guilt weighed heavy in his heart. No matter what else he’d accomplished in his life, it would never erase his dismal failure where Evie was concerned. His inability to save her from the drug habit she’d developed in her quest to be a top international model.

  Like Jamie, Evie had a naturally curvy frame. He’d delighted in every single curve. She bemoaned them, fearing they served as a barrier to breakthrough modeling jobs. She’d been right. She started using speed, coke and heroin—at the suggestion of a fellow model—in order to shed her curves so she would more closely resemble a high-end hanger than a human being. As her weight dived, her career soared. She’d finally broken through to the upper echelon, landing assignments she’d only dreamed of before. But Evie had been a natural born addict. She embraced her addiction with the same ardor with which she’d embraced her career, with which she’d once embraced him. Soon she was spending her money as quickly as she made it on designer clothing and the drugs she credited with propelling her to stardom.

  He pressed his eyes closed and wiped the corner of his eye angrily. Why’d she have to bring up Evie? He sighed. How could she not bring up Evie? After all, wasn’t it Jamie’s dark hair, full lips and curvy frame that had initially attracted him to her? There was something about her that reminded him of Evie, before the drugs. He wouldn’t admit that to his mother or sister, but there was no point in lying to himself about it. Maybe it was Jamie’s faint similarity to Evie that had piqued his interest, but that wasn’t what kept him coming back. Jamie Charles was a one-of-a-kind woman, if ever he’d met one. He fell in love with her because she was amazing, strong, funny and unbelievably honest. He fell in love with Jamie because she was her, not because she resembled Evie.

  Miles went to the kitchen to grab a beer. Just five more days and his mother would be gone.

  * * *

  “That was his sister? I knew there had to be a logical explanation.” Lisa sighed in relief. “I’m sorry. I should’ve kept my mouth shu—”

  “No, you shouldn’t have. I would’ve done the same for you.” Jamie arranged her paints on the easel. “I just wanted you to know that everything is alright.”

  “Is it?” Lisa asked, allowing a few moments of uncomfortable silence. “Because it doesn’t sound like you’re alright.”

  “Okay, so I’m not in love with his mother. She’s kind of a bitch.” Jamie sighed then shifted the phone to her other ear as she searched through a drawer for an unopened pack of brushes she bought a few months ago. “Can you blame her? If I was in her position, I wouldn’t want my kid messing around with a fuck-up either.”

  “You are not a fuck-up. You’re human, just like the rest of us. If his mom is a rich bitch who can’t understand that, then that’s her problem. It only matters what Miles thinks about you, and I’m telling you, the guy adores you.”

  Jamie released a deep breath. “Maybe he doesn’t know what’s best for him either.”

  “Okay, if you don’t stop talking crazy I swear I’m going to come over and slap the shit out of you right now. He should be fucking grateful that you’ve even given him the time of day, and his uppity-ass momma is just gonna have to get over herself unless she wants to lose her son.”

  Jamie bit her lip. She wanted to accuse Lisa of being melodramatic, which she often was. But she knew what this kind of thing could do to a family. After all, it was Melanie’s breakup with Jaxson Payne that had prompted her to move as far as she could from them—the family and friends who’d told her so all along.

  Mel had never admitted it, but they all knew. When her relationship with Jaxson had imploded, seeing them every day only reminded her of how foolish she’d been. That they’d been right about him. She and Mel were still best friends, but sometimes it felt like an obligatory title neither of them was willing to shed. An uncomfortable distance had grown between them.

  Jamie winced. The realization that she might be a “Jaxson Payne” to Miles and his family cut like a Ginsu knife between the ribs. “Thanks, Lisa. You’re a good friend. Just promise me that you’ll always tell me the truth. No matter what. Even if it’ll make me wanna scratch your eyes out.”

  “You’re not doing a very good job of selling this, babe.” Lisa laughed. “But I promise to tell you the truth, no matter what. And to bitch-slap you if necessary.”

  * * *

  Miles sat across the table from his mother. She’d been squirming in her seat like a toddler in church, itching to bring up the subject of Jamie again. He knew it was only a matter of time until she did. Kari had opted to stay behind, preferring not to get involved with the drama they both knew would be on the menu for brunch.

  “If you have something to say, Mother, for God’s sake, just say it.”

  Lucinda sighed, her face weary. “Sweetie, why do you always do this to yourself?”

  Miles forced a stream of air through lips pressed into a tight line. “Do what? Find someone I care about? Someone who loves me?”

  Lucinda raised an eyebrow with concern. “Has she told you that she loves you?”

  Miles shifted his gaze toward the window and watched as an older woman sauntered down the street with an armful of bags. “Not in so many words.”

  Lucinda sucked in a breath of relief.

  “But I know she does. She’s been burned and she’s just afraid—”

 
; “Oh, honey!” She pressed her manicured talons into the table, leaning forward. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. You’re always finding these...these projects. Women who are broken, who’ll never be able to truly love you—not the way you deserve. Are you on a mission to find someone as socially inept as your father?”

  Miles’s head snapped toward hers, his eyes narrowed.

  “Is that what you want for yourself? Because it certainly worked out well for your father and me, didn’t it?”

  The blood pounded in his ears as heat slowly rose up his neck and through the top of his head, like steam gathering in the neck of a teakettle. He slammed his fist on the table, causing the silverware—and the patrons at a nearby table—to jump. He leaned forward, too, lowering his voice to a harsh whisper. “Why does every fucking thing have to be about Dad? Why can’t you just let it go? He doesn’t give a shit about us, I can tell you that.”

  Lucinda didn’t flinch. Her eyes met the intensity of his, though she leaned away from him, pressing her back into the cushion. “I can’t forget because I spent two decades married to a man I’m not sure ever really loved me. In fact, I’m not sure he’s capable of loving anyone, even himself.” Her eyes softened for a moment, and then she steeled her shoulders again. “It’s a pain you can’t imagine. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy, and I’ll do anything to ensure neither of my children endures such a fate.”

  His jaw—set to fire back a response—suddenly went slack. Resting his head in his hand, he massaged the tension stretching the width of his forehead like a tightly wound elastic band. “I know you only want what’s best for me and Kari, and I appreciate that. I do. But giving birth to us doesn’t give you the right to run our lives. You raised us the best you could. Now trust us to do what’s best for ourselves.”

  “Like you do with your sister?” The corner of Lucinda’s mouth curved and the light danced off her blue eyes. She squeezed his hand.