Undeniable: A Friends To Lovers Romance (Love Desired Book 4)

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Undeniable: A Friends To Lovers Romance (Love Desired Book 4) Page 4

by Cassie Verano

“What about you? How are you coping with the divorce?”

  Peyton inhaled and shut her eyes. It’s not that I wanted to take her to the heart of the pain, but I couldn’t just dance around the issue either. She’d brought it out in the open, and being anything less than being real wasn’t me. That was something Peyton had always known about me, too.

  “Some days are pretty good, and I’m thankful. But then there are other days where it’s a bit harder. You know? Realizing how much time I lost on him. And then I remember to be thankful that at least we didn’t start a family together,” she chuckled softly.

  “Are you? Thankful, that is.”

  Shaking her head, she cocked her head to the side and pinned me in place with that piercing gaze of hers. “I should be, but I don’t know if I’ve arrived at that stage yet. My mom gave me that advice when I first told her about the divorce. She said I should be grateful we didn’t have kids together.”

  “That’s not sufficient. I mean, on the surface, that’s great that there’s no one else that has to be dragged through a pile of bullshit, and even better that it isn’t kids. But that doesn’t cull the hurt and loneliness that comes from something like that. Building a life with someone you expect to spend the rest of it with just to arrive here.”

  Laughing softly, Peyton ducked her head underneath the dim lights of the restaurant.

  “What?” I asked, smiling. I liked the sound of her laughter, and it occurred to me that I always had.

  “It’s just that I don’t know if I ever really expected forever from him. I mean, I should have, but I didn’t. I married Jacob because I was lonely, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever find anyone who would want me like that.”

  “Trust me. You were wanted,” I said.

  Ignoring my comment, she picked up her wine glass and tossed a swig back.

  “My God! I must sound awful!” she moaned. “Like some desperate freak.”

  Reaching out, I pulled her hand away from her face and tipped her head up with my other hand. “Hey, no, you don’t. No one wants to be lonely. And women are sometimes willing to accept more than they should just for the sake of saying they’re happy.”

  “But that’s just it, Bryce. I don’t think I ever was. I think I faked my way through it and smiled at all the right places, said yes when I was supposed to and looked the other way over his bull crap until I couldn’t look away anymore. You know what I mean?”

  “Actually, I do.”

  What Jackie and I had couldn’t compare to a marriage, but I knew about looking the other way and putting up with someone’s shit until you just couldn’t take anymore.

  “Anyway, my therapist says there are five stages of grief and loss,” she said, twirling a linen napkin in between her fingers.

  “Yeah, denial and isolation, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance, right?”

  “Exactly. I think my denial stage came before the actual termination of the marriage. After the failed counseling sessions where Jake either wouldn’t show or if he did, he didn’t participate, I knew it was over, but my heart wouldn’t let me believe it. The denial came to an end the day I arrived home to see him screwing some red-head tramp on the couch. They didn’t bother to make it to the bedroom.”

  “Damn. I’m sorry, Peyton.”

  “Don’t be. If I hadn’t run into that scene, I’d probably still be burying my face in his lies and crap. I kicked him out that night. He wouldn’t leave until I called the police on him. Then I took two weeks off work that I could barely afford and locked myself away in my house. I didn’t take any phone calls or make any. At some point, I pulled myself up by the bootstraps and hired a lawyer.”

  A long deep inhale ended on a loud exhale and sigh.

  “Then I was angry as hell at him for so long, and I wanted to take him to the cleaners. I demanded everything and let up on nothing.”

  “Did you get everything?”

  Peyton pulled her hands through her hair and smiled at me. “Everything except for my dignity.”

  “I hear that’s highly overrated,” I joked, prompting a smile from her lips.

  “Then, before everything was finalized, I went through this stupid phase where I called him up and asked him what did she have that I didn’t have. What did all the others have that I didn’t have? Because that wasn’t the first time. She was only the first one that I saw with my own eyes, rather than hearing the phone calls, seeing strange phone numbers texting him or nude pics, or him smelling like another woman’s perfume, or the panties in the car or the dried semen on his underwear or the lipstick smudges around his dick when he’d come home and fall out on the couch, too drunk to make it to the bedroom. I’d remove his clothing to help him get comfortable in his sleep. Well, one night, I removed his underwear, too. Trying to get him alert...and there it was. Passion purple lipstick rings around his junk,” she said in disgust.

  “And yet, you kept trying.”

  She nodded her head, knowing that I wasn’t judging her.

  “I did. And when we were almost at the final stage of the divorce, I seemed to forget all that and tried to bargain with Jake to do right. Let’s just make a go at this. I believe we can get it right if we try hard enough.”

  “And?”

  “He said he wasn’t interested. Said it was too hard sneaking and creeping around and lying and having to cover his treks. He said that he hadn’t felt such freedom in a long time, and he didn’t’ want to go back to feeling like a kid again being smothered by his mother.”

  I whistled. “That shit’s harsh,” I said, pulling my hand down the back of my neck.

  “Harsh, it may have been, a bitter pill to swallow it may have been, but it was what I needed. It got my head together and made me realize I had no ounce of dignity or self-esteem or anything.”

  Peyton was quiet for so long. I knew she was stuck in the past, and I couldn’t leave her there.

  “And now?”

  “What’s that?”

  “What stage are you in?”

  “Somewhere bordering on the brink of depression and hovering over acceptance?”

  “Depressed about?”

  “How I failed myself and ended up here. My life looks nothing like it did in college or my early adult years. I’m not sure how I stumbled into the abyss, but I’m there. And the fog is thicker some days than others,” she said, her voice cracking.

  I reached a hand across the table and grabbed hers, and squeezed.

  “Now, you see why it wasn’t good to kick me out of your life?”

  “I can think of a million reasons,” she said.

  “The main one? Nobody listens like me.”

  She smiled a brilliant smile at me. “It’s getting late, Bryce. I’d better get home.”

  “Let me pay for our meal, and I’ll make sure to get you there safely,” I said, signaling for the waiter.

  “You do know I live right down the block and one street over. I can walk from here and be there in less than ten minutes.”

  “Then, I’ll walk you.”

  As we walked to her place, a comfortable silence descended between us. My mind was full of memories of when she’d come to do her work in my dorm room and fall asleep on my bed. Memories of how protective I was over her when other dudes came chasing after her.

  Everyone always joked about how she didn’t need a big brother with me around. But even then, I knew the feelings I harbored were nothing like a big brother. But those feelings weren’t safe. Not when I knew our paths were not in alignment at the time.

  “Did you ever think you’d be back here getting ready to sign books in my bookstore one day?” she asked, looking up at me as we walked down her quiet street.

  Laughing, I said, “Nope. But you were supposed to be my agent.”

  “I know. We both had such big dreams back then. High hopes.”

  “Yeah, well, you didn’t have to give them up. I continued pursuing mine.”

  “And I...”

  “You disappeared to
go marry some asshole that didn’t deserve you.”

  “That’s true. But I still pursued my dream of becoming a literary agent.”

  “Just not mine, and that was the agreement. I didn’t even know how to get in touch with you,” I said.

  “Really, Bryce? There were my parents and my siblings before I left town.”

  I slowed our stroll and stared at her. “Are you serious right now?”

  “Yes, completely,” she said, her innocent face a wide-open book.

  “Like hell. Your dad didn’t like me, and your mom wanted to jump my bones. The hell makes you think I’d ever reach out to either of them again?”

  “My sister and brother?”

  “Still gotta go through your parents to get to them.”

  “You’ve got a point.”

  “Besides, with the way you left town and up and changed your number, I thought you’d decided to ditch the old crew and get a new life. Maybe we weren’t up to par with what you wanted for your future,” I said.

  This time she stopped as we stood outside of her house. Peyton stared at me, outlined by the light on her porch.

  “Don’t do that, Bryce.”

  “What?”

  “Act as if I’d ever look at you as though you were beneath me.”

  “Some of your friends felt that way.”

  “And so did yours...felt as if I wasn’t good enough for you. But we’re not our friends. And if you take a look around, those people are no longer in my life.”

  “Neither am I.”

  “Yeah? Well, that was a mistake.”

  Her gaze was soft. The emotional moment was intense. The air around us was charged and turbulent like an electric storm of fond memories, missed opportunities, and something so much more.

  I leaned in towards her. The brushing of my lips against hers so light if I weren’t there participating at the moment, I’d doubt that it happened.

  Peyton smelled like the warm scent of summer sun mixed with a hint of strawberries and honey. Her lips were smooth and full. Not quite as soft as I’d imagined but definitely pliant underneath mine.

  I heard a simple sigh escape her throat, and I moved my fingers to touch the skin there. Soft, delicate, and hot. Slowly my hand slid from her throat down her arm, linking our fingers together pretty much the way our lives had been since we’d known one another.

  But that little gesture was enough to pull us apart. Peyton pulled back from the kiss, her eyes searching mine and confusion written in every line of her face.

  “What...what was that about, Bryce?”

  Shoving my hands in my pockets, I took the coward’s way out. Downplay, as always. That’s how I’d always explained everything with Peyton whenever she’d questioned my intentions or actions in the past.

  “You standing there looking hella sexy like you needed to be kissed. The porch light’s framing you like an angel. Made me think of a scene I need to write.”

  “A scene?”

  “Yeah, just working out the dynamics in my head,” I said, twirling my finger around my temple to indicate my thought process.

  “I looked sexy?”

  Laughing, I said, “Quit reading too much into it. Get your ass in that house and cool off. I got you home safely as I promised,” I said with a wink.

  Frowning, she shook her head. “You play too much.”

  “That’s why you love me, girl,” I said casually over my shoulder as I walked off.

  I didn’t trust myself to look back for fear she’d see the truth in my eyes. In my pants. That I wanted her very much.

  CHAPTER 6 – PEYTON

  THE NEXT DAY PROVED just as busy at the store as the first day had. But things seemed to flow a little bit smoother the next day. Everyone learned where they served the strongest and worked diligently in those areas.

  The only hiccup was when Anita was caught mooning over Bryce too long when her husband arrived. Her line had grown outrageously long, and she was moving slow, which wasn’t like her at all. But that was because she was so busy staring at Bryce.

  The crisp white, short-sleeved button-down shirt hugged his biceps showing off the definition of perfectly sculpted, golden-bronze arms. Tucked down into a pair of black slacks that showed off his trim waist, it was easy to see that the man had the abs of a god.

  Everything about Bryce today was sleek and casual, pulled together so effortlessly, but he still looked like a million bucks. The same outfit wouldn’t have looked so good on another man.

  I thought back to last night and instantly blushed at the memory as heat warmed my cheeks. It wasn’t the first time that Bryce had done something similar. In the past, when he’d work on a story, he’d run some corny line on me to see if it worked.

  I was always his test dummy in the past. Test dummy.

  Yeah, I’d better stop reading too much into it like he’d advised me a thousand times or more.

  The day rushed past with long lines and constant sales as people flowed in and out to get autographed copies of Bryce’s books and to meet the man himself.

  Everyone was tired and headed out for home no sooner than the store was cleaned and back to its original state.

  “Everything looks good, boss?” Bryce asked, leaning against the doorframe of my office.

  I looked up and smiled at him. “I wouldn’t expect you to be around still.”

  “Well, there was a lot of cleaning and packing up to do. I couldn’t dip out when the real work came in,” he said with a smirk.

  “But you’re the celebrity. I wouldn’t expect that of you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Is that what you do at all your book signings?”

  Laughing, he said, “Okay, you’ve got me. But I’m home now. That’s different.”

  “Is it really, Bryce?”

  “Yes. It is,” Bryce replied quietly, walking into my office and dropping down onto a chair opposite my desk.

  “Home. That’s supposed to be a place of peace, right?” I asked, dropping my chin in my hand.

  “Yes,” he said in a soft tone but still relatively deep.

  My eyelids drooped closed for a minute.

  “What’s on your mind, Peyton?”

  I opened them again to find his eyes on me, a look of concern etched across his face. I briefly wondered if I’d worried him the way that I opened up to him last night or the way I’d responded to his kiss.

  “Just ready to go home. That’s all.”

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “It depends,” I teased.

  “Well, I’ll ask it anyway.”

  “And maybe I’ll answer,” I said, a small smile lifting my lips.

  “What did Maggie mean last night when she toasted to keeping the doors of this place open?”

  I’d somehow thought we got past that embarrassing moment. I know that Maggie didn’t mean any harm with that statement, but it just didn’t seem the appropriate time to bring it up.

  Sure, a lot of people knew that I was struggling, and the sales were down. Most folks around here knew everyone else’s business and tried to do all they could to support.

  But what did one do when people preferred reading online rather than a good old fashioned paperback or hardcover? What happened to enjoying the feel of the paper in their hands, or the smell of the book?

  Reading a physical book was a more intimate experience for me. There was something so personal about holding the book in your hand.

  But rather than addressing those factors, I lied.

  “Nothing. Just hoping for growth, that’s all,” I said, turning my lips down.

  Bryce stretched his long legs out in front of him and crossed his hands behind his head. “You were never a good liar, Peyton.”

  “What?”

  “Every time you lie, your lips turn down like that, and your eyebrows lift just a little.”

  “Do not!”

  “Yes, they do. You never wondered how I always called you out on everything?” Bryce s
aid with a little smirk on his lips.

  I dropped my head in my hands, wishing that the blush I felt creeping up my features wasn’t such a betrayal of my emotions.

  “Come on, Peyton. I’m not here to judge, but maybe I can offer some advice or help you brainstorm on some things.”

  When I looked into his eyes, I saw nothing but compassion and sincerity there.

  “Fine,” I said, blowing a wisp of hair out of my eyes.

  I spent the next twenty minutes discussing the issues I’d run into and giving a summary of the financial challenges I faced. I shared with him what I’d done thus far to address the problems and the outcome.

  When I finally finished speaking, with his hands resting on top of his head, his legs crossed at the ankles, and his eyes closed, I wondered if he were asleep.

  “Bryce?”

  “I was thinking.” Finally, he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Are you open to suggestions?” Bryce asked.

  “I’m open to anything that helps.”

  “Cool, so here’s what I’m thinking. May I?” he asked, gesturing at an ink pen lying next to my keyboard.

  “Sure,” I said, pushing it to him along with a sheet of printer paper as he scooted closer.

  I watched as he began etching out crude shapes and angles. Turning my head, I tried to get a glimpse of what he was drawing, and before long, it came into focus.

  My store.

  “So, back here, you’ve got this extra space that’s just dead space. The large nook can be repurposed for shelving space. The aisles set up here and here,” he said, pointing at the area where our young adult fiction section was located.

  “Yes?”

  “They can be relocated to this alcove with a little bit of construction and some refiguring. It doesn’t take much, and it won’t be costly. Then you can have a small stage constructed here. The large empty area across from the register now can be shifted slightly to the right of the register, and it would face the small stage.”

  “Shift the empty area?”

  “Yes, place these shelves here in the currently empty area, thereby opening up this area. Now here, you would place a few tables and chairs.”

  “For what?”

  Bryce turned his caramel gaze on me, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “This is where your customers are going to sit while they listen to live acts.”

 

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