Unbroken: A Second Chance Romance

by Aria Ford

  “Well?” Alexandra asked, cutting a big slice off a toasted avocado sandwich and chewing thoughtfully.

  “Oh yes. Unfriendly. Well, he acts like he doesn’t really want to know me. I know he just asked me out for coffee but he’s so distant. And he never said anything about why he left. No explanation or anything.” I frowned and cut into my lunch. The smell of spices, rich and warm, flooded my nostrils headily.

  “Well, I guess you can’t say he hasn’t explained until you actually chat with him,” Alexandra suggested. “I mean, he might.”

  “True.” A flutter of excitement stirred in my stomach and I hoped, not for the first time, that I looked okay in time. I was soon going to see Jay. Maybe she was right. Maybe he would offer some explanation, after all.

  “It’s just…” I sighed. “I don’t even know why I’m doing this. I mean, all those years ago, he walked away without any warning. It was hard, Ally. I didn’t know what to think. I don’t know what to think. It made me feel worthless.”

  Alexandra looked sad. “I’m so sorry,” she said sincerely. “But I’m pretty sure that wasn’t his point. No one who knows you, who dated you, would think that.”

  “You sure?” I asked.

  She chuckled. “I am sure.”

  I smiled. “Thanks. But then…then, why did he do it? It wasn’t fair. I want some explanation from him.” I didn’t know how to explain what it would mean for me to hear some reason—any reason—in his words. I had spent years doubting myself, thinking I’d been worthless to him. Wondering if I was good enough. It would mean so much to me to have that cleared up.

  She nodded. “I know you deserve answers,” she said slowly. “But…take it slow, huh?”

  I nodded. “I’ll try.”

  “I’m sure he’ll give them to you. Or why has he invited you?”

  I smiled, feeling happier. “True,” I said. I hoped she was right. If there was something I longed for more than anything right now, it was answers.

  When I reached the coffee shop, my nerves were strung to breaking point. I stood in the doorway, struggling to compose myself.

  I scanned the crowded tables, searching for his familiar presence. There.

  From my fortunate placement in the doorway, I could see his blonde hair and blue eyes and those big shoulders. He was seated at a table at the back, eyes focused on the menu. I felt my heart twist with fondness as I studied his familiar posture, the little wrinkle where he drew his brows together, reading.

  I walked in. When I was about two paces away, he looked up. I saw his eyes gloss over me then return. They stretched as he stared at me and I felt my heart flutter with pleasure as he focused on my face.

  “Margo. Hey.”

  I grinned. “Hey. Hi,” I added, as he stood and shook my hand. The touch was like electricity down my arm, tingling all the way up to my shoulder. I shivered. His eyes held mine and something about that stare made my loins ache with longing.

  I remembered vividly how it felt to lie beside him, how he had stroked me so expertly, his fingers making my body shiver with their touch. I looked into his eyes, and they held my gaze, their blue depths making me shiver.

  I sat down, trying to ignore the fire that was surging through my body.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Margo

  “Hi,” he said, sitting down.

  Now, with me just twenty inches away across the table he seemed suddenly nervous.

  “You had a good day?”

  “So far, yes,” I said mildly. Dammit. Why could I not think straight around him? All I could think of, sitting this close, breathing the scent of him, was how much I longed for him. My body was on high alert, every nerve tingling. I felt as if I could feel his warmth on the air and every part of me was straining to feel him.

  “Good,” he said. His voice wobbled a little, as if he, too, was nervous. “Me too.”

  “Good,” I said.

  We sat looking at each other after that.

  I reached for something to say but couldn’t think of anything sensible. I sighed.

  “You’re living here?” Jay asked, forestalling my attempt to converse.

  I giggled. “Yes. Still here.” I grinned. “Where else? I work here.”

  “Oh.” He looked embarrassed. Then he grinned. “I guess that was a dumb question, hey?”

  I smiled. “No, not really. I might just be visiting family.”

  He nodded. “I guess.”

  I paused. “Is that why you’re here?” I asked carefully.

  “Yes.” He looked at his hands. They rested on the table, fingers long and corded with muscle. I recalled the way those fingers felt when they brushed down my skin with a shiver of delight.

  “Well, I hope it’s a nice visit,” I added.

  “It has been,” he said. He was looking at me intently and I felt a flush rise up into my face. His blue eyes held my gaze. Looking into those eyes, the way they held mine, smoldering and hot, made the whole attempt at conversation seem ridiculously silly. Why were we sitting here, polite and awkward, when we both clearly wanted something different? Or at least, I thought, feeling my clit throbbing in my panties, I wanted something else.

  “Um…are you here long?” I said.

  “No. Just a week.”

  “That’s not long.”

  “No.”

  We were floundering desperately in the aftermath, trying to think of something else to say, when we were rescued by the waiter.

  “Ready to order?”

  “Cappuccino.”

  “Regular drip coffee.”

  We both gave our orders and the waiter grinned and wrote them down, then withdrew. I was surprised by how automatically we both spoke, both ordering what we always did.

  “Still only regular?”

  He grinned. It was the first time, since I’d seen him in the airport, that he had given that boyish smile I recalled so well.

  “Yeah,” he nodded. “Still my favorite.”

  “Only because you never try anything different,” I teased. It was an old argument.

  “Well, I have strong tastes,” he said. Again, his eyes locked on me.

  I shifted where I sat, heat flooding my body. Under the table, I became aware of his knee.

  “Well?” I asked, not sure whether I should move my leg or let the slight contact continue. My whole body screamed for the second choice of course. I thought it was prudent to move a bit.

  “Well, what?” he said, sounding as if he was trying hard to swallow something big.

  “Well, if you don’t try anything else, how will you know those strong tastes wouldn’t settle on something else?” I asked.

  He looked into my eyes. The waiter appeared with our coffee, but I barely noticed as he left.

  “Well, I know what I like,” he said softly. “And unlike some, I never change my mind.”

  I felt his words shudder through me like a drumbeat shudders through wood. I throbbed and ached with the sweetness of his voice, my body turning into a melted mess.

  “But, Jay?”

  “Yes?”

  “What do you mean, change their minds?” Is that what he’d thought? That I’d changed my mind about him? I stared at him.

  He didn’t say anything. Instead, he lifted his coffee. “Mm. Still my favorite.”

  I swallowed hard and turned my attention fiercely to my own coffee. I lifted it and drank. I pulled a face and added sweetener.

  He laughed. “Still a sweet tooth?”

  “I can’t handle plain coffee,” I admitted. “It’s so bitter.”

  He chuckled. “You haven’t changed.”

  “Nor have you.”

  Our eyes met and held. He looked at me with such surprise and tenderness that my heart thudded painfully. Then, just as his lips parted and his leg stroked mine, he looked down.

  “Are you going away this year?” he asked.

  I frowned. The abrupt change of subject hurt me. Why was he suddenly so formal?

  “I mi
ght,” I said lightly. “Depends on this next interview, I guess.”

  “Oh?” His eyes met mine, alert again.

  What is your problem? I wanted to shout at him. Why are you so changeable all of a sudden?

  “I’m interviewing for another contract. With Realtone.”

  “Oh?” He frowned.

  I felt some professional pride. If I could move from my current job to Realtone, it would be a great move career-wise. I’d worked with Petals for a few years, and I was fairly certain they’d be changing their brand soon. I should find a new place, and as the face of the up-and-coming new brand…

  “Well, it’ll be good,” I said carefully, “if they take me on.”

  “I’m sure they will,” he said quickly. “You’re good, Margo.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  Again, that mix of intimacy and indifference was scaring me. What was I supposed to believe? On the one side, he was acting like we were the best of friends, and on the other like we’d just met under awkward circumstances and had nothing to discuss together. It was difficult and disconcerting.

  Make up your mind. “Jay?” I asked.

  “Yeah?” He took another sip of coffee, a look or caution on his face.

  “Listen, there’s something I want to ask you.” I sounded terse, even to my own ears.

  “What?”

  There was that guarded look again. He was shifting uncomfortably in his seat as if my asking him a question was the most painful thing that could happen to him. He looked down at his hands and I instantly felt bad.

  “I was wondering…well…never mind,” I said quickly. I swallowed hard. This was painful. We were supposed to care about each other. Where had he gone all those years? And why? But all the same, I couldn’t start bombarding the guy with questions now. Slowly. Go slowly. I recalled the words.

  “What?” he asked gently. “I’m sorry, Margo. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. I’m just, well…I guess I’m a bit rusty with this conversation thing. I’m sorry,” he said again. His blue eyes met mine and instead of guarded, they looked a little desperate. He smiled at me, a distracted half-smile.

  “Well…it’s okay.” I said. “I’m okay. Nothing to be sorry about.” I sniffed. Dammit, I shouldn’t let this guy affect me like this! I let my fingernails dig into my palm, not wanting him to see that he was affecting me. I wasn’t going to open up if he wasn’t going to open up to me—it wouldn’t be fair.

  “What did you want to ask?” he asked gently.

  “I guess I just wondered what you’re up to,” I said lightly. Slow. Take it slow. For once, I was listening to my friend.

  He smiled. “Well, that might surprise you.”

  “It might,” I agreed.

  “I went to college,” he said. He looked shy and proud. I smiled.

  “Wow! That’s great,” I encouraged. “What did you study?”

  “Well, I’m a sports nutritionist now. I did sports science.”

  “Awesome.” I was proud of him. He wouldn’t have dreamed of a career outside football when I first met him. And now he had one.

  “Well, I guess you saw,” he said shyly. He was still looking down at his hands, his cheeks red, voice level. “On the webpage, I mean.”

  “Yeah.” I nodded.

  We sat quietly for a while.

  Inside, I was wondering what to say. I had no idea. I mean, after almost four years apart, how did one even begin to start rebuilding bridges? I felt at once as if we’d never been apart and as if the past years were an impossible gulf. The years of silence were like one of those lake things around an old castle—wide, impenetrable, shutting me out.

  “Margo?”

  I blinked. Hearing my name on his lips made my heart flip over just like it always did.

  “I’m so glad you reached out.”

  I sighed. His words melted my heart. I let out a long shuddering breath and felt a strange sensation in my tummy as if it had turned into melted candy. I looked at him and felt all the love I’d kept buried in my heart for the last four years suddenly come to the surface like sap in trees at springtime.

  “Of course I did,” I said softly.

  “Of course?” He frowned.

  “Well…”

  “Will you take anything else?” the waiter asked, appearing to take our coffee cups, which were empty.

  “No, thank you,” I murmured.

  “No.”

  When he’d gone, we just sat and looked at each other.

  Jay sighed. “I guess I should go.”

  “I guess,” I said softly.

  He moved back, the chair grating softly on the floor.

  I sighed and stood.

  “See you soon?” I couldn’t help asking as I watched him stand, his hand leaning on the chair as he reached for his coat, shrugging into it carefully while balancing with one hand on the tabletop.

  “I hope so,” he said.

  His eyes met mine and again, I felt that spark leap between us.

  Then he reached down for his crutches and leaned on them. He swung slowly out toward the door.

  “See you,” he said to me softly.

  “See you,” I replied.

  He stood back for me in the doorway and, swallowing hard, I walked out. I heard him follow me down the sidewalk, crutches clicking and grating.

  When I reached my car, I sat down behind the wheel and leaned my head on it, my eyes, when I looked up, blind with sudden tears.

  I was about to drive away when I heard someone thump on the window. I stared.

  “Margo?” It was Jay. “Wait.”

  I sighed and opened the door, letting him in.

  “Margo?” he said again hesitantly. “I know that maybe you don’t…”

  I stared at him. “Jay, don’t be silly,” I said.

  He leaned forward, confused, and I couldn’t have actually said if he kissed me or I kissed him. His tongue thrust between my lips and I parted them gently, letting him probe my mouth.

  I gasped with pleasure as he leaned back, smiling at me uncertainly.

  “Margo…” he sighed. “I guess you need to work?”

  “I do,” she said. “But there’s no hurry. My next event is at seven. That gives us…what? A few hours?”

  He breathed out. “Margo…”

  “Come on,” I said impulsively. “I know somewhere where no one will see us.”

  My heart thumping in my chest, amazed at my own audacity, I sent the car into traffic, heading for a secluded spot I knew of on the bay. It was not quite dark, but I was fairly certain no one would disturb us. And this was not something I could back out of.

  My body would never forgive me if I did. I needed him.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Jay

  I couldn’t actually believe it. I was sitting beside Margo and we were driving to the bay. I watched her out of the corner of my eye. My stare lingered on her high, firm breasts, that long neck, her lips.

  “Are you sure about this?”

  She nodded. Her lip was between her teeth, focused on her driving.

  As we reached the docks, my ache of longing was laced with tension. What would I do? Margo had never seen my leg. Had no idea of the withered, bruised monstrosity it had become below my knee. I didn’t want to show her.

  She drew to a halt. We were in a deserted parking lot. The bay was a distant glimmer far below, the light catching the wavelets, the lake gray and sparkly, slowly being eaten by shadow as the night fell steadily.

  I breathed in. I was shaking. I reached over and let my hand rest on her thigh. Her skin was cool and satiny.

  I let my fingers stroke her skin, moving, searching, up under the skirt she wore. I could hear my breath catching in my throat, my body tensed.

  She giggled as my fingers brushed up and just skimmed her undies.

  “Does this thing go backwards?” she laughed. I frowned, and she indicated the seat, fumbling under it for the knob to make it go flat.

  I nodded. My h
and moved for the knob and I pressed it, and she leaned back. The seat shot flat.

  I let my eyes travel down her body. I was shaking, the longing was so bad. She was lying on her back, those round, hard breasts sweet and irresistible to touch. I let my hand slide up from her narrow waist and grip one, squeezing it.

  She gasped. I sighed. It felt impossibly good in my hand. They fit so well, just the right size for my grip. She leaned back, and I moaned, feeling my cock aching.

  I shifted in my seat, finding the lever and letting it go flat too. At least that way I could shift onto one side and kiss her. My tongue slid between her lips and I kissed her, probing her mouth. It was firm and warm on my tongue and I loved the feeling of exploring her, loved the way she parted her lips and yielded to my tongue.

  I rolled over and shifted so that our bodies touched. I wanted to take her clothes off but wasn’t sure if she would let me. I rested my hand on her shoulder and gently slid it into the collar, wincing with rising desire as I felt her warm skin under my hand.

  “Let me help,” she breathed softly. She sat up and started to undress. I stared at her. Every move was impossibly graceful even though I didn’t think she was trying consciously to be so. She had a natural, sinewy grace that made me drink in her every move.

  When she was down to her bra and panties she leaned back. I cleared my throat, but my voice was still a growl.

  “Let me.”

  She nodded and lay back and I let my eyes feast on her. Her bra and panties were matching, a pale color that could have been dark white or pale pink. I reached up and let the straps move down her slender arms. Her full cleavage was warm, and I ached to see it.

  It was getting dark now but as I fumbled and undid her bra I could still see the pale shine of her skin, the dark circles at their centers. Two pale rounds, I ached to feel them between my lips.

  I leaned down and greedily drew her nipples into my mouth. I sighed. I recalled them as big, and they were—big and full and so pleasurable to tease with my tongue.

  I heard her gasping and I ran my hand down her tummy, reaching for her undies. I slid them off.

  She gasped and shivered as I slid my hand between her thighs, my fingers gently parting her folds. They felt hot to my touch, and I could feel the hard nodule, firm and erect, between them. I gently worked it with my fingers and my whole body stiffened as I did so. I heard her sigh.